"And just a quick formality, you've been read your rights?" The detective asks, not looking up from the file before her.
"Yes."
"And you understand them."
"Of course, I've been surrounded by this stuff for years, Detective." This stops her reading, and she quickly composes herself and sits back in her chair.
"Do you know why you're here?" She asks, knitting her fingers together in her lap as she studies them.
"A bit hard not to." They chuckle. The Detective's grave expression doesn't falter. They shift in their seat and look down at the empty cup of water before them on the desk. It's clear they weren't exactly in the best situation when the rush happened but a substantial glass of water isn't obscene, surely. Yet the detective's stern and solid demeanour says otherwise.
"May I have another glass of water?" The detective gestures to the empty thin Styrofoam cup on the table in a silent response.
"It's empty."
"What a shame." The officer next to her breaks his silence.
"We're all entitled to water, detective." He says with a clear distaste for her quip at them. His disapproval of her unprofessionalism hangs heavily in the air between the three. The Officer nods to them and rises from his seat, his back clicks in a couple places as he bends to retrieve the empty cup. He sighs heavily as he departs the room, leaving the detective alone to do the interrogation.
Interrogation, sure. That's the plan. Somebody standing amongst a room full of highly positioned and well-respected members of the community deserves a fair interrogation without a doubt. However, finding that same room with the same members coating the floor with their frothing corpses bathing in shallow pools of red vomit could raise some suspicion upon said somebody. Yet multiple witnesses of catering staff relaying the same detailed events, security footage fully supporting those details and the heavy imprint of matching DNA would undeniably sway many on the idea of them 'deserving a fair interrogation'.
"Would you say a kill count of 73 in the span of an hour would deem you deserving enough to make requests that make you feel better? To make you comfortable?" She flashes a brief, sarcastically large smile.
"Not providing me a simple drink because of your opinion of me violates my human rights." The detective scoffs at their counter.
"Human rights? You have no clue what makes a human being... The fact that you think your human is laughable." She leans forward and spits at them. They lean forward and raise their cuffed hand to their eyebrow to wipe away the saliva with the back of it.
"I can assure you, Detective, I know what makes a human."
YOU ARE READING
Guts, Rearranged {INCOMPLETE}
RomanceWould you say that everyone deserves some kind of redemption? Would you say some deserve a gruesome end? Would you say some deserve the warm hands of a secretly murderous lover? As Maggie attends her first day as a butchery assistant, she'd been pla...
