THE UNEXPECTED KILLER [G!P]

Chapter 20

The asylum didn't scare Becky anymore.

The eerie feeling of something crawling its way down her skin, the noir atmosphere that personified madness in itself- none of it bothered her, its seemed.

In fact, she almost didn't notice the cold air enveloping her body, as she stepped into room 372 this time. She hated to admit it, but she was becoming used to it.

Losing her sanity, fragment by fragment.

"Good evening, Rebecca."

Instead of sitting on her bed like previously, Becky was greeted by a seated muscular form at the desk. Unlike everything else, Becky's name spoken in Freen's raspy, daunting voice didn't fail to disorient her just like it had always done. That's something she could never get used to.

She sat down slowly, trying her level best to ignore how dry her throat had gotten all of a sudden, fingers braced against the red button. She refused to look at Freen in the eye. She just refused.

Maybe it was the fear of possibly seeing a feral entity in those eyes, waiting for the right opportunity to pounce and tear its canines into an unsuspecting soul.

With hands still trembling in the slightest little motions, she turned on the voice recorder.

"Hello, Ms. Chankimha. Did you eat well?"

A bone-chilling chuckle escaped the mouth of Freen sitting across from her.

"I think we've been over this, Rebecca." Freen drew herself forward, "No games."

The irony in Freen's words might have made Becky laugh hysterically, only if it wasn't for the deathly fear in the rift of her stomach. Instead, she kept her eyes glued down to her file.

"When did you first feel the compulsion to....."

"That's not what you want to ask me."
Freen cut Becky off before she could even complete the question, mouth set in a cold, firm line.

"Yes, but this is what I need to ask. This is a legitimate assignment we're talking about, Ms. Chankimha," Not your blasted mind games, Becky added mentally. The pep talk she had spent an hour giving herself, seemed to have worked. She held her courage, taking pride in the fact that she hadn't stuttered once in Freen's presence.

"Now," Becky emphasized again, "When did you first feel the compulsion to.." Kill, she paused to say. "....Violate laws?"

Freen looked straight into Becky's eyes, no words spoken, merely smiling. "As long as I remember existing."

Becky only hoped that the silence in the room wasn't too lucid for Freen to have heard the gulp in her throat.

'As long as I remember existing....'

Of course, psychopaths are astronomically likely to have run-ins with crime, because they lack basic reason, logic and most importantly, empathy. But not all psychopaths are gruesome murderers.

The fact that the gorgeous specimen that sat before Becky, had just self-admitted to being born a killing machine, whirled Becky's mind on a whole different level.

It unnerved her, how she would have never seen Freen's true self, had she passed Becky by the street any other day. Just as an insanely attractive Adonis-like creature.

A raging murderer? Never.

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