Madman. (#wattys2015)

Chapter 1

The sun was shining and dancing along the happy family's faces and as they skipped merrily along. The youngest girl , with bright blond plats and a pearl white smile, stopped -her mouth dropping -and gazed forward. Her mother pulled her by the arm and walked quickly away. She was afraid. Not of me. Of all of us. And the others of course. The 'Western Institution for the Mentally Ill.' was grey and cold. The nurses tried to smile as they forcefully handed you pills, but you could tell they were afraid. They were just like the little girl - fine at first but as soon as they got too close they stopped and got pulled pack by rationality. Sometimes I thought that if I just pretended I could finally get out and feel the sunlight again. And feel that thrill again. The thrill I got from the hunting. But that stupid girl! The one I mentioned before that I can't hunt. I can not find her. She is too smart and too good at hiding. She told those Nurses not to let me out no matter what unless I told them the code. Of course she is the only one with the code so there is no way out.
I don't mind it that much. I miss my car.
You and that stupid car Fred!!! My mind aches every time you take control.
Want me to cut him?
No Cecilia. Not yet.
Fine Brooklyn. Your pain. Not his.
Thank you Brooklyn.
Shhh! Fred...
I see you have met the rest of 'Me'. Other than that stupid girl. She should come out to play someday.I think she might enjoy it. It is quite exciting. But she follows 'moral' rules. I do admit that even I have moral rules. Don't Kill unless they are guilty of another life ending. I think all of the voices want justice in one way or another. Even Fred.
"Talking to Cecilia and Fred? Or are you obsessing over 'the girl' again?" A tall man in dark clothes asked ,leaning against the bars of the opposite cell.
"No. She is gone. And I wouldn't lean back on those bars; Crazy Harry lives there - he ate people." I replied twirling my matted hair.
"What are you doing here Jackson?" I asked impatiently.
"Five bodies. All torn up." He stated staring into my eyes as he moved away from Crazy Harry to hand photos to me through the bars of my room.
"You found them all?." My hair looked so awful. So bleak. I looked at the photos. A little girl was sprawled across the floor cuts shredding through her. She was innocent. Pure. Not enough time to make terrible mistakes. She couldn't have been mine. I would remember her. The other four however. I had not made it to the hunt yet but I had begun to 'notice' them.
" They are new ones. I think you have a fan." For once in his live he was right about something.
His hair was not matted. It is because he works for the government. They all have perfect hair because they don't live in places like this.
"Not mine. And I have no fans. Only you." I sat up from my hard bed and stretched my legs and walked right up to the bars of my room handing back the pictures.
"Do you need help?" This was going to be so much fun.
"With finding the evidence and convicting the guilty- God no." He had this stubborn look.
"But.." Wait for it....
"But you had a way getting people to confess, the FBI would be ... gracious if you helped. That is of course if you still can do your job. 2 years locked up can really break people's minds."
I laughed. My mind is broken. It has always been broken.
" Broken? How could I ever been broken. I'll help- on one condition."
I smiled.
"What?."