The detective spoke with vigor as he interviewed the possible suspect. He was obviously very well versed in his job, wading through dozens of possible suspects to the horrific string of murders. This was the last one left; so by the power of logic, this one had to be him. Or, at least, it was very likely. The man himself seemed like a killer just by looking at him.
He had an eccentric grin, almost as if he were baring his teeth, which put anyone who saw it on edge. His eyes were terrifying; filled with murderous intent and lunacy as he stared the detective down. The suspect wore a brown long coat that was battered by the climate of the area. Easily, the most unsettling thing about him was his demeanour. He never quite settled on a specific personality, often flicking between different emotions as if they were channels on the TV.
'Mr... what was it again?' The Detective asked inquisitively.
'I didn't say in the first place.' At this, the detective realized how difficult this man was going to be.
'Well then, what is your name?'
To this, the man did not respond and instead stared straight through the detective.
The detective felt the uneasy atmosphere thicken as the suspect licked his lips with hunger.
'Do you know why you are here?' The detective wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, he had been working on the case for what felt like years but in reality, was only 2 months. Not the longest case he'd worked on, but still longer than his usual, and considering how complicated it was, it took a toll on his mental wellbeing. The detective had noticed himself becoming more irate quickly and having trouble falling asleep even though he was incredibly tired. He would be glad to rid himself of having to come into work every day to find barely any progress on a seemingly impossible case.
To the question, the suspect did not reply and just continued to stare into the detective's eyes. 'I haven't eaten in a while, do you mind if I have like a cereal bar or something?' The suspect spoke with great respect but also none at the same time in his request.
The detective grabbed the radio off the table, 'Hey yeah, Listen umm... I don't know how to phrase this but we need some sort of snack in here. Yeah yeah, in interrogation six. No not a code seven. Yeah thanks, he's not speaking so yeah. Right yeah, code four.' The detective put the radio back on the table and looked into the suspect's eyes as he tried to work out the best strategy to break him.
The detective had insisted on being the only officer in the room to the confusion of others, he believed he could make him crack by himself. 'I'm going to need your name sir, you do realize that?'. The detective really wanted to know the man's name, he wanted something to ground him with.
'You don't know my name.' The suspect's character changed again the moment the words passed his lips. His body jerked up slightly, as he blinked his eyes were filled with an entirely different emotion. Unstoppable joy. He had a truly unhinged aura that even scared the inspector slightly.
There was a knock at the door as the suspect seemed to finish sinking into his skin. The detective, eyes on the suspect, walked up to the door and opened it. Another officer stood there with a tray in his hands. On the tray was an assortment of a variety of snacks, muffins, cookies, chocolate, etc. The detective took the tray out of the officer's hands and thanked him as he closed to door upon the rather worried-looking officer and moved back to his seat. He placed the tray back down and noticed that the suspect had begun to stare through him again.
'I'll do you a deal, if you agree you can have as many as you like.' The detective gestured to the tray.
'Don't ask my name again!' The suspect had a buried ferociousness in his voice.
'Why?' The detective wanted to question him to decrease his illusion of power and control.
'Because you won't be satisfied detective.'
The detective thought for a minute at this before falling on his next line, 'I guess we'll just have to see.'
The suspect smiled and opened his mouth to scream.
The officers had been trying to open the stuck door for an hour with no use. Finally, they got some sort of metal ram to force the door open. After 5 tries, the door finally opened normally as if nothing had happened, and as the officers walked into the room they almost coiled back with disgust. In the room, all that remained was the table, chairs, and tray which was covered in crumbs and wrappers. Well, that was overlooking half of the mangled body of the detective and a message written with intestinal chunks and blood. "Don't ask the name !".
