Perfect Maniac

Insa

Iris' P.O.V

Forced into the police car. Not a word spoken. My expression grew blank, though my thoughts overflowed. I looked at the man driving. A smug look on his face.

I couldn't handle the silence. It only made the time slow. I felt regret as my heart pounded in my chest. I felt regret, and I hadn't an idea why.

"Don't fight it." The voice spoke. I glanced up at the officer. He didn't look back. He seemed unfazed. "Haven't figured it out yet?"

I didn't know how to respond without getting told to shut up. I only grunted. The voice took that as a continue.

"They can't hear me." The voice spoke once more.

The voice only reminded me of some spawn from hell. It only made me anxious. I thought of it as regret. It seemed to resemble something. I couldn't figure out what.

"Why don't you respond? No need to be afraid of yourself." It's words came from my head. Though, I didn't understand them myself.

"You aren't me." I mumbled. "You're a demon." My voice rose. The officer looked at me through the mirror.

"Calm down." The voice said it in a mocking tone. "I can't protest those words." It paused. "Why call yourself a demon." A laugh seemed to echo. It seemed close and limited. It may just be in my head.

"I'm not you." I repeated. Starting to get annoyed, I turned my attention out the window. I noticed buildings upon buildings. They seemed familiar. I hadn't gone on a walk in years.

I was that person. An introvert. At least for now. I only mourned a death that happened years ago. Now a death only happened a few hours ago. I wasn't going to mope. I was going to force myself to my feet. I didn't care what got in the way. I either get pushed down and get back up or fail all together. Either way I wasn't going to actually live a life unless I tried.

I noticed multiple police cars in front a building. It being so obvious what the building was, I slumped down. Maybe I shouldn't have killed two boys. Maybe they aren't really dead. Either way, I am a murderer.

I shivered at the thought. The way it sounded. I immediately thought of the voice. The one in my head. I felt raged at it. It mentioned murder. Murder that didn't have a true reason. I wouldn't do such a thing for entertainment. I need a purpose to murder.

What am I thinking? Why would I consider it? I felt needed of a reminder that, I in fact did murder two boys. I sent a girl running. Worst of all, I made a friend. It was like a promise I couldn't keep. Why was it the worst? Well, that's just not me. It's not that I don't care. It's that I'm afraid.

The officer stepped out. Walking around the car, he opened the door. I went to step out, struggling in the cuffs. The officer shut the door behind me. Pulling me to the door, I gulped.

Maybe I did go too far. I ended lives. My heart pounded as I only argued with myself. I was getting no where.

I looked up. Officers standing in different places. Some talking to people. Others talking to each other. The officer led me to the desk.

"This is officer Clarkson, here with our suspect." He spoke. The woman eyed me, then him. She wrote down something onto a clip board. Handing Clarkson a key, she let us go.

He led me down a corridor. He unlocked a room. We both entered. Before he stood, he waited for me to do the obvious. I sat down in a chair still in the cuffs.

I noticed the man was focused on something else. I didn't bother speak right away. I focused my attention on something other then simply speaking.

"Tell a truth." A voice spoke. I looked around. I thought it had been Clarkson. The officer seemed to pay no attention to me, as he looked at his watch. That voice was raspy. Too familiar. I recognized it then. The voice from my head. I felt raged.

Why would this voice, tell me what to do. We've barley ever talked. It just pops up out of no where. Why wouldn't I tell the truth. Would I tell a lie? No! I wasn't planning on it.

"I will tell a truth." I grunted. The officer glanced at me a moment. He turned his attention towards something else. His piercing blue eyes back to his watch then to the door. This officer wasn't Dominic's father. He seemed younger. His black hair was cut short. His eyes seemed merciful, though his voice told a different story.

"I said a truth." The voice spoke in my head. "Not the."

I paused a moment, not wanting to understand. The things this voice said was just dark. I didn't want this voice to change me.

"Twist the truth." The voice chuckled. "Just a twist. Tell them all the bad that happened to you. Leave out the other things."

I didn't want to talk out loud. I needed to ask questions if I wanted answers. I knew that. I watched as Clarkson met someone at the door. They talked. After a moment they glanced at me, then sliding the door shut.

I didn't know where to look while asking the question. Instead I closed my eyes to stay focused. I knew cameras would catch this. Me speaking. Maybe they wouldn't hear it clearly if I whispered.

"I'll do it." I rested my head on my hands. "Just tell me one thing."

"What would that be?" The voice questioned.

"Who are you? What are you?" I asked it waiting for the answer. I was unsure if I wanted the answer.

"I can't answer that completely." The voice admitted.

"Why not?" I snapped.

"I can tell you one thing." It seemed to offer.

"Yeah? Go on." I urged.

"You may call me this. Which I am."

"Yes?" I grew anxious.

"Insa."

I paused. I opened my eyes, forgetting the voice only came from my head.

"Why Insa?" I questioned hesitantly.

"Because. I am the first half to insanity."