Confessions of a teenage sociopath

Tactics

Sure enough, the man returned at exactly two hours past the time he left, sitting once more in the unremarkable chair in an unremarkable room. And he sat there, with his head back enough that she could detect the faint expressions beneath the hood. No features, just expressions.  And the one he gave now was smug, in control, and entirely pleased with himself. She returned fire with a small smile, really just a curl of the corner of one side of her mouth. “Impeccable timing. I’m guessing it’s been two hours?” She asked.

“Of course, I said two, so here I am.” He nodded. “A story, if you don’t mind.”

She rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance at his insistence. “If you insist. Now I’ve given you murder and assault, bloody fun for everyone no? But I’m no brute, I’m a queen. And a queen has refined tastes, refined tactics you couldn’t ever understand. So let me show you what I mean. It was still kindergarten, a lovely year for me. Finally there were kids, near the end of the year, who know I was strong and they had to stick with me to survive. I had my troops now, I could do things without having to be caught for it. I was finally showing the brains that got me to become queen in the first place.”

“AS it happened, having been watching everyone for so long, I knew just what they felt, how they thought, what they feared. Spending eight hours a day studying them did that to me. And so I could get what I want, without worry of bloodying the dirt. Such a useless expenditure of energy, even then. But even knowing everything, I wouldn’t dare threaten them up front. That alone was asking for trouble to come. So I acted through Cassandra.”

He interrupted, unsurprisingly, at this fact. “The girl who loved you? Why?”

A sigh. “Must you interrupt? Yes Cassandra, because she was loyal, and innocent. None would belive that she were the mastermind. So when someone got in trouble on my orders, they couldn’t say who gave the orders. They’d be in worse situations then. It was perfect, most perfect on the final day. I had somehow managed to fail kindergarten, and would inevitably be cut off from Cassandra and my loyal minions. That was unacceptable, but such a tender matter. It would be obvious who would want me to pass the school, so there was almost no way I could pull this off without attracting everyone’s attention. Then, the most brilliant of my plans began forming.”

Silence, long and deep, descended between them as she held him in wait. She listened around, and could hear a faint scratching behind her, faint tapping. Satisfied, she nodded and continued, leaving the man wondering what she had done in that short silence.

“I used Cassandra directly, for there was no way the teacher could tell me off because of her. No one would believe him. He was a decent man, unremarkably average brown hair and blue eyes, nothing outstanding except being my teacher. And it wouldn’t be a final day that would stand out either. As the time slot for the final grades approached, I had Cassandra deliver the first blow. First she innocently skipped up to him while he had other staff members, asking him nicely to let me pass. This was to establish that she asked him nicely to do what I wanted.  Needless to say, he said no and gave her a small explanation. This was my cue to tell Cassandra what to do. “

“Next she approached him alone on the playground (which always had a teacher on duty after my episode with the boys), almost begging him to let me pass. When he said no again, Cassandra was actually hurt and cried. Now being the ‘lady’ that I am, this was what I needed to officially make it war on him. The last time was before the hour was upon us for the final grades, and she approached him angrily, alone, in his office. She stared him in the eyes, and did exactly what I told her to do.”

He looked at her, an expression of confusion and…. Fear?... beneath the hood. “What did she say?”

“His worst fears. She gave every threat I told her of, every phobia the man had used against him at once, every childhood memory I overheard him discuss or read on his emails while he was busy. What happened after she delivered mental and emotional blow after blow I only know from her mouth.”

“She would say ‘Mistress’, as this is what I had her know me as, ‘His face went white. Pale. He got all twitchy and would just nod at what I said. Then he spoke really weird, like when I get scared. He said that he’d change it right then and there, just to have me go now. But I was a good girl, I said no and stood there and made sure that he changed it and that it locked him out from more changes’. Such a sweetheart she is, a shame no doubt to you that I corrupted her.”

“Makes for a good story.” He stated as he shrugged.

“Perhaps, though I wouldn’t worry about your story being entertaining, you’re interrogating a sociopath after all. Anyways, needless to say he would never speak out on this. A gamble, I admit, to hit him so hard with his phobias, but I had to hit him hard then and there.  Fortunate that such intense fear cemented his words in his brain, fortunate too. After I got done with punishments from the entire episode, he would’ve lived in hell until he so decided to end it himself.”

“You condone suicide?”

She shrugged. “Another story, perhaps, if we decide your story needs more… dirt. Now I suppose you go upstairs to your perfect suburban home and leave me here in the dark then?”

He laughed and walked across to her, standing above her. “Actually, no. You can sleep in the dark.”

And so then he turned, leaving. Footsteps up the stairs she couldn’t see, a door closing. And she stared into the light, watching the burning filimant as long as she could. And when she felt her eyes burn, she got lucky. The bulb burnt out, and blissful darkness gave her much needed sleep.