homicidal >> mgc

Chapter Ten

"Why did you kill those people, Michael?" Officer Gregory Dimmore questioned, looking at Michael with a raised eyebrow and hard eyes.

Michael tapped his fingers against his cuffs, admiring the reflective silver. He sighed. "I did it, because I wanted to."

"That's not a good reason to kill people." Gregory said.

"Is there a good reason to kill people, Gregory?"

The officer sat back and stared at Michael for a long time. Wondering how a person couple go from so sick and evil to actually realizing there are morals in this world. Gregory thought the boy was a mystery to all, why would one kill for no reason only to say there is no such thing as a good reason to kill. It just didn't make sense to hear those words come out of Michael Clifford's mouth.

Michael smiled cheekily, "you should take a picture, it'll last longer. Trust me, jail will not be good for this face. Wrinkles are soon to come, old chum. Just, if you do take the photo - which you will because, well, I'm Michael Clifford and who wouldn't want a photo of me - just make sure to get it on my left side, it's my better angle. But I'm sure you know all about angles, officer."

Gregory had seen this boy yesterday where he was a sputtering and snotty mess, and now he was a cocky and ignorant jerk? Gregory couldn't wrap his head around whatever mind game Michael was playing. It may be a tricky game, but it was a good one to say the least.

Michael sighed. He blew hair out of his face, "I'll tell you something, Gregory." Michael said, bringing his hands up on top of the smooth, wooden table. "I killed because I like to kill. Taking what one cannot simply just get back gives me a large amount of pride and satisfaction. Just knowing, I did something to make other people's lives miserable... Makes everything seem right."

"And yes, I do realize that in this world, murder is wrong. But guess what, I like it. I'm just a sick, evil, twisted, crazy psycho and I'm sure there are more like me." Michael said, clanging the handcuffs against the table.

Gregory sighed and pulled out a photo of a pretty white girl with brown hair. He pushed the photo towards Michael, "why Hallee Gunner?"

Michael caressed the photo with his fingers, remembering how her hair felt in his hands. He shrugged, "why not? I was annoyed and I had been thinking about killing for while so I thought why not her."

He pushed another photo towards Michael, showing him the remains of Hallee. Seeing the blood all over the floor and fragments of bones and chunks of hair all over the floor made Michael smile, as disturbing as it was. Michael nodded, reminiscing the moment. "I remember this very well, she was so scared. Cute, really." He chuckled as if he were talking about an old friend.

The next photo was of Grace Maybelle, the pretty 15 year old Michael had shoved in a trash can. She really was a pretty girl. "This one has to be my favourite!" Michael smiled down at the photo of Grace. It was a good photo of her, her smile was gorgeous and her hair fell perfectly pass her shoulders.

"Why, Michael?" Gregory leaned back and examined his behaviour, Michael was enthusiastic about his killing.

"I got a rush from killing Hallee, so I laid low for a couple days then made my strike. I guess I'm sort of an adrenaline junkie. Grace, man, she was really fun to kill. I just had a blast, y'know?" Michael spoke as if this was as normal as going to grocery store.

Gregory pushed a photo of graces remains towards Michael. Michaels smile seemed to grow wider at the sight, "see what I mean?! This is absolutely a piece of some fine art, yeah? I mean, do you know how hard it was to shove her in that trash can like that?"