A Little Bit Ruthless

"Look we've caught you at the scene of the crime, now give up where the other bodies are! Those families out there...they want closure. You've already taken their loved ones the least could do is tell me where to find the rest of them." The worn out detective who's been following me for years begs smoothing a hand through his hair. Shaking his box of cigarettes placing one between his lips he cups his hand lighting it getting a long pull from it.

"You're not going to talk?" He breathes out, the smoke attacking my nose and eyes. That was just disrepectful.

2 years and this is the only time he's gotten me into custody. Unfortunate for him though, my Miranda Rights were not read to me so I walk. "Detective,I'd love to tell you where I hid these mens' bodies, but your police officers suck. No one has told me my rights...so I would like to thank them for that." Taking a sip of the steaming caramel coffee brought to me the detective's face darkens in dismay. He should really hire better officers.

Pounding the table with his fist he snaps,"Fuck."

"Fuck is right hun, tell you what.. we can play this game when you're a little more experienced. I'm too complicated a case." He shakes his head at me smirking down into his coffee,"Izzy, why are you doing this huh? Who made you this way?"

His hazel orbs burn into mine looking for an answer that he'll never see,"Detective honestly,bad girls have more fun. Especially when you can get away with it."

Shaking the hand cuffs around my wrists taunting I blow him a kiss on my way out of the door. "You're sick." He calls.

Laughing I look back,"And you're a stalker,that's pretty sick don't you think?"

†★†

Officer green eyes(because I could careless about his name) drops me off infront of my house."Thanks for the lift hun, we should totally do this again." Shutting the door behind me his wheels screech as he speeds away pissed.

That's not my fault though, this place just sucks at preparing police what can I say. Heading straight for the shower I wash the grime of the day off of me. This itching, this nervous tick I have going. This uncontrollable urge to kill is getting worse. I'm starting to slip up, its time I paid a visit to an old friend.

†★†

Out for my night drive scoping out the place I wind up in front of a single leveled off white house. Vines making it look like a sad face under the moonlight, I climb the porch marching right into the house,"Hello?"

Coming from the kitchen wiping the glorious ruby red blood on a hand towel my teacher nods in my direction a slight grin glowing on his face.

"Ah, Izabella, what is the occasion that's brought you here today?" For a serial killer he has the sweetest voice I've ever heard,I'd never say it to him but his lithuanian accent is extremely becoming. With a strong jawline and beautiful blue eyes you'd never guess such a scrawny man was capable of the killings he's committed. Of course I was there for most of them.

"Hannibal." I sigh embracing him in a hug, like always he holds me close for a while breathing me in. "I need your help."

"With?" Releasing me he motions for me to follow him into the kitchen. Laying across the surgical table is a very eye catching sight. A severed body, male I assume, with the head sitting in a jar of vinegar.

"I'm slipping." Grabbing a scalpel I make an incision from the sternum down to the abdomen, pulling back to cut again from the left upper cavity of the chest to the other side. Perfet Y-cut. Peeling back the thick skin,tissue,and fat to see that sweet blood only triggers that gnawing urge I have.

"I think you are superb at this actually." Hannibal takes the scalpel from me dragging his pink tongue across it. "My favorite part of the kill, is enjoying the meal that comes along with it. Care to stay for dinner?"

"Hannibal you know that's not what I'm after, I'm only for the kill."

"Yes I do remember,but let us get back to why you are here." Carefully extracting the organs from the body tossing them on the counter he proceeds to mince it into its smallest form tossing it into a giant silver pot boiling on the stove.

Turning to me with a wry smile he says,"You are far from slipping,just slow down your mind long enough to allow the actions at which you perform to catch up. You don't kill because you have to, you kill because you want to. The blood draws you in, you see the beauty of it which excites you. My little hematomaniac; (which he pronounces like hey-matoe-manyack), once you get a handle on that you'll be more elusive with the kill."

Nodding I watch him take his time on the severed body, treating every part of it like its a precious jewel. Pulling the head from the jar he carves the cheeks from its face sauteèing them up with mushrooms,"Mmm one of these days you must stay for dinner."

"I'll consider it." I say leaning into him kissing his cheek,"See you later."