Cognitive Deviance

8. Offline

March 25, 2045 - 12:30 PM

An hour and fifteen minutes after her unnerving encounter with Jack Holloway along with a lunch break, Margo walked down a corridor toward the main office in silence, still having trouble comprehending the fact Holloway was a Psychwatch officer. At the end of the hallway, Carl and Nikki sat together on a couch. Nikki looked incredibly uncomfortable as she took a bite out of her apple, and Carl was the only one bothering to hold a conversation.

"Hey, you two," Margo said.

"Hey, Mar—uh, Miss Sandoval," Carl corrected himself.

"Aww, we don't need to be that professional, do we? We're still buddies, right, Carl?"

Carl smiled. "Good point." He cleared his throat. "Nikki here told me the two of you were stuck supervising Jack Holloway's evaluation. What's the point of redemption therapy if he's not even willing to cooperate?"

"I was thinking the same thing. But haven't you known him for a while?"

"Yeah. I taught him how to fight."

Both Margo and Nikki raised their brow. "Excuse me?" Margo asked.

"Technically, it was Vince who taught him. Yeah, one faithful and—depending on your experience with Holloway—possibly unlucky day, Vince decided to take the spotlight and left me and Catalina in the dark for a while. Jack managed to earn his sympathy, and long story short, Holloway is trained in mixed martial arts now."

"So you're the reason Jack's so dangerous?" Nikki asked.

"I already told you, honey. I wasn't in control that day. That's why we don't trust Vince that much. And in all honesty, I don't regret preventing him from learning self-defense. There are a lot of people who'd rather he die than continue his treatment."

"Didn't he beat a teen half to death during one of his first assignments?" Margo asked in concern.

Carl stayed silent, mostly because he realized he was trying too hard to defend a sociopath. "Well," he replied awkwardly, "the kid was responsible for influencing his classmate's suicide, and he didn't help himself by proudly admitting he did it. So it's not like a lot of people would've stood up for him anyway."

"That doesn't give them the excuse to condone violence, especially with all these stigmas going on."

"Wow, you sound so much like Catty. But you're right, honey. I've just been making excuses. My point was that we were trying to find a way to put his conditions to good use. And we did, in a way. He's been helping us out with crime scene investigations in the Psycho Slums."

"W-W-What are Psycho Slums?" Nikki stuttered.

Margo was surprised to hear her say that. Kids around her age were always talking about the Psycho Slums. Most of them were blind to its darker nature, seeing it as an opportunity to get away with debauchery. There were countless reports of teen runaways and underage pregnancies in the Psycho Slums as well as many infamous reports of statutory rape due to a lack of proper law enforcement. No one could figure out why regular cops were so afraid of the Psycho Slums. It was as if only Psychwatch had the guts to trek through its labyrinthine alleyways of insanity.

All of a sudden, their colleague Royce emerged from another room and approached the three of them. "Maslow, I have a question," he declared, nudging his glasses further up his nose.

"Hi there, Royce," Margo said, extending her hand out for a handshake.

Royce grimaced at her gesture. "I hate to be rude, but I don't like being touched," he replied sheepishly. "How about a fist-bump instead?"