Understanding the minds of criminals is my job. Sitting in a locked room with a person who's seen a lot of people die before his eyes doesn't bother me anymore. In fact, it never did.
I see a maximum security prison as an amusement park.
But instead of fun rides and various attractions, the stars of this place are serial killers and their magnificent crimes.
Killing is a form of art, and I'm just one of a million people who would fall asleep with their dark confessions like it's some bedtime story.
You must be thinking that I'm sick in the head.
I get that a lot.
"So you're Falaguerra?" I asked while scanning his crime record.
He went on a killing spree for five years. He's known as "The Vanisher".
Interesting.
I lifted my head to look at him. He has beautiful brown eyes, but they looked dead and lifeless.
I was told that he voluntarily put himself behind bars after five years of evading the law. I'm quite impressed by how he managed to keep his cool despite the fact that he's sitting in front of an intimidating gentleman.
Oh, yeah. I'm referring to myself.
"I expected more from this place," he finally spoke. His voice was so deep and husky that it made my ears itch. The clanking sounds of metal made me look at his handcuffed hands. "Prisons are supposed to be like hell, but this does not feel any different from the outside world."
I lifted my head to look at him. He locked his eyes with mine. I stood my guard. Breaking eye contact with him is the last thing I want to do right now.
"Why did you kill them?"
A cliché question, indeed. But I will never get tired of hearing their stories.
I flinched when he suddenly leaned closer to me. He smirked. I wasn't expecting that.
There's a big enough gap between the two of us, but I feel like suffocating. His stares are so intent. I can feel it piercing through me. It's so heavy. What the hell is happening to me?
"Do you really think I killed them?"
The evidence is right in front of me. His crime record says it all. He is the person behind the mysterious disappearances of twenty people. But why do I feel like something is wrong? It's like he's trying to tell me that there's more than what I already know.
My heart jumped when he suddenly burst into laughter.
"Hahaha!"
I watched him pushed his hair back using his long fingers. My eyes widened when I realized that his handcuffs are gone.
Shit.
"I like you," he muttered. I looked at him with enlarged eyes. How did he get those off? I don't even have the key. What the fuck is he playing?
My right hand automatically reached for my pocket.
"I wouldn't dare if I were you."
I gasped when I felt his legs touching mine. I harshly glanced under the table. He's playfully playing my limbs with his. I looked at him with small eyes.
"You know that I make people disappear," He pressed his foot in between my legs. "which means your clothes are going to be a piece of cake."
"Get your leg off me," I said, with a hint of authority in my voice. His lips curved into a smirk.
"Or else what?" he dared and pressed his foot harder making me whimper in pain. I bit my lower lip in frustration.
What a pervert!
My body winced when he suddenly stood up from his seat. His height towers over me. My eyes landed on the lower part of his body. He is blessed with a big ping pong ball. I looked away when he caught me checking him out.
I think I just lost the staring contest.
"You have a very beautiful face, Bright."
What the—
How did he know my name? I don't remember introducing myself to him.
"I like you," he whispered as he slowly walked behind me. My lips quivered when he put his hands on my trembling shoulder. "I thought it would be boring, but I guess I found myself a new toy."
A new toy?
He laughed tremendously while massaging my shoulders. My breathing stopped when I felt his presence very close to my face.
"Enjoy it while you're free, Mister Bright. You're going to join me here very soon."
That's the last thing he said before the timed lock in the room ran out. He went back to his seat like nothing happened. I exited the room with a pounding heart.
What the fuck was that?
"Are you okay, Detective Lannes?"
I nervously looked at the police standing in front of me. He was about to raise his hand to reach for my shaking shoulders, but I moved away. I firmly hold the folder in my hands.
"We're done. You can bring him back to his cell," I replied with a small smile.
He escorted me out of the prison. Even the words "too much" are not enough to describe the security of this facility. It's impossible to see a window here. Even the ceiling is concrete. I feel like there are more CCTV cameras than people here. It's everywhere.
"Good job, Detective Lannes."
The insulting voice of an old man made me look at the side. I smiled bitterly. It's the same old bastard who never gets tired of messing with me. He's one of the reason why I pushed myself hard to be an investigator.
"I'm surprised to know that there are still clients who choose to trust someone like you," he snickered. My fist hardened. He never fails to annoy me with that old foul mouth of his. I unconsciously crumpled the poor envelope in my hand out of irritation.
What does he want now?
"Looks like they don't know how ineffective you are as a detective. You go around solving many cases, but you can't solve your own sister's case. How ironic." He smirked.
My world stopped.
He's crossing the line. I glared at him. He smiled tauntingly.
"You should keep in that little brain of yours that you can't be trusted. You failed to save your own sister. How can they trust you in saving other people?"
My heart clenched. What does he know? He runs that mouth of him so easily despite knowing nothing. Obnoxious. As much as I wanted to slap his face with the truth, I didn't want to catch more attention. He's not the reason why I came here.
I watched him walked out of the room with an arrogant face. What an A-hole.
Something heavy covered my chest as soon as he disappears from my sight. I looked up on the ceiling to prevent my tears from falling.
I will find her.
I will find my sister.
