psychopathy. (a short story)

I've been in this room for hours. Being questioned. The cops have gotten irritated with me, telling me they'll return when I'm "ready to talk." I have nothing to say. This entire process is actually funny. It's not like I'm withholding information on purpose, I just want to see how far I can push my limits with the police before they book me. That's kind of my thing. I love getting into people's heads. I love seeing their feelings get the best of them. I love seeing them lose it emotionally. Sometimes it doesn't take much for a person to crack, no matter how threatening they try to come across. I've seen it many times. After a while, I get bored. They come back into the interrogation room.

"So, are you ready to talk, Jones?"

"Sure." The boredom was pretty much rampant until I realize this presents another opportunity for me to test these cops' intelligence and patience.

"Did you see the victim at all tonight?", they inquire. I swear, it's like they think they can just squeeze a confession out of me.

"No sir, I did not. I stated that for the record earlier. At least, that was the impression your partner gave me."

"I'll make a note of that. Why don't you give me a rundown of the things you had done earlier today." He tightly grips his pen, almost eager to catch me slipping up.

"Okay. I got up at about 7:30 this morning. I followed through with my usual routine. Brushing my teeth, shaving, and what have you. I always have a protein shake before I head out for my morning exercise. Then-"

The cop interrupts. "What kinds of exercises to you do in the mornings?"

"Sometimes I go for a run. When I want to lift weights or something, I head to the gym."

The cop writes in his notepad and urges me to proceed.

"This particular morning, I was out for a jog. Ran about 5 miles, then headed back home and had a shower. It was my day off, so I spent a few hours relaxing at home before I called a friend and we headed out for lunch."

The cop questions me further about my lunch date. I told him it was with a college buddy of mine that was in town for the week. I sense a bit of disappointment, almost as if he was expecting me to admit I had gone to lunch with the victim, which I hadn't.

At that moment, his partner barges in and informs him that they collected a DNA sample off the victim's body and to let me leave, since there wasn't a match. The cop is obviously very surprised. When I was waiting to be questioned, I overheard him tell one of his colleagues that he would have a good time "bringing me down." As I'm leaving, I walk past him and he gives me a look that I could only interpret as being simultaneously angry and pitiful.

I get into my car and drive off. When I come to the stoplight, I can't help it. I burst out laughing. They'll never figure it out. They'll never know it was me. When they match that DNA, it'll be identified as my neighbors', who already has a history of murder. Guess that used condom came in handy. Then he'll go back to prison because really, you can't argue with DNA. Once you're physically placed at the scene of a crime, it'll be hard explaining how it got there. Good luck, Mark. You were a cool guy.

As the light turns green, I smile, thinking of how I'll get away with it the next time. I smile bigger as I head home, where the bodies of 10 more victims lifelessly await in my basement. Maybe they'll have a new friend before the end of the week.

#mental #mentalillness #murder #shortstory #psychopath #psychopathy #narcissist #sociopath