|
Post by America Kennedy on Jun 22, 2012 15:31:03 GMT -8
"Nervous? No." A little freaked out? Sure. But it didn't show. He wasn't about to give him that kind of pleasure. Because, being a little freaked by someone's presence wasn't the same as being nervous, nor was it the same as being afraid. "This isn't a game." He reminded him, and to him, it wasn't. But, now that he knew who he was, he was going to do whatever he could to catch him. He'd find the right evidence to snag him. This wasn't supposed to be how it worked. They were supposed to follow evidence to the killer and now he felt like he was about to work backwards. He was going from the killer, back through the evidence, looking for some way to snag him. For someone who had left them chasing their tails for a while, he sure made one hell of a mistake."But if you want to a play a game, you're losing." He said, the confidence in his voice. If he wanted to word it that way, then he was going to make damn sure that he lost.
Ric wasn't going to lose out on this. And not because of his pride or because he wanted to prove himself, but because he needed to be taken out. That bastard needed to rot in prison and then some. And he'd make sure that he did. He wasn't going to be afraid of him. There was no way that was about to happen. "You leave that to me." He didn't know what he'd find. Honestly, he wanted to see him crack. He wanted a confession. "So, your mom too, huh?" He began, a slow smirk appearing on his face, something that revealed his confidence, despite him having reservations. "Is that what all of this is about? Some twisted Oedipus complex? Did mommy not love you enough?" He paused. "Or did she love you too much?" They were questions that really shouldn't be asked here and now. But he kept his voice down, figuring that he wasn't going to alert any of his colleagues. If they heard what he was saying, no doubt he'd be removed from the room.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 22, 2012 15:52:13 GMT -8
"Isn't it?" he asked with a chuckle. This was illegal. Jack had expressed the desire to leave. He was supposed to stop the questioning there and let him leave. Jack wondered what else he would break the rules on. Would he go into his house without a warrant? His father was still in the freezer, cut in pieces just like his mum had been. It wouldn't be in plain sight, so without a warrant, it would be inadmissible. Which, made Jack confused as to what he wanted to do. Did he want to allow America to screw the case over that way? Or should he get rid of the freezer altogether? He didn't want to panic. That would only lead to getting caught. He had to be smart about it.
When he asked about his mother, he looked at him. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure I understand what you mean. I'm not from here, you see. Love me too much? I'm not sure I know what that means. " Yes, yes he did. But he was going to try and cause America to lose his patience rather than allowing his own temper to flare. "She was your typical mum. Paid for private tutoring, would rather let her money spend time with me than do it herself." he shrugged. The man wasn't getting off to a very good start. He was most likely trying to gnaw at his emotions. But Jack had already accepted his mother's death. She was never even supposed to die. But he had grieved overt he last few months, and killed countless others to make up for it. He was fine. And he wasn't going to lose it because some fucking inuendos were made.
|
|
|
Post by America Kennedy on Jul 9, 2012 9:22:32 GMT -8
"Do I look like I'm playing?" Ric asked and despite knowing full well how illegal his move had been, he did nothing to let him go or to retract his intent in keeping him there despite how much he wanted to go. As soon as he expressed interest in leaving, America should have left the door open for him to do so. Regardless of what he wanted, you couldn't hold someone against their will. But, America didn't care about the rules right now. He was sitting in the same room as a serial killer and if he thought he was just going to let him slip out of the door, then he was dead wrong. Now, he was well aware that his colleagues would have wanted different of him, because no doubt that this could jeopardize the case. But, again, he wasn't going to sit around and care about that. Not when his mind was elsewhere, and that was on getting this son of a bitch to say precisely what he needed him to say.
"Oh, you know what I mean," America insisted, voice lowered and a smirk on his face; one that expressed his complete disgust for the man in question. "Don't insult your own intelligence," not that he gave him a lot of credit for being more than a psychopath, really. "Did mommy and son have a relationship daddy wouldn't approve of?" He asked, and when he explained how his mother was, he gave a humorless chuckle. "Oh, of course, you would say that." He shrugged, because why would he admit to what he was saying? "So, what happened? Did she shy away from your advances? Did she get angry? Did she realize how fucked up you really were?"
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2012 9:58:20 GMT -8
"Actually, yes. You look like you're more than ready for a game, detective." Because, that was what he was going to end up doing. Playing a game. Jack wondered who his family was. Did he have any children? Any that he could leave in a bloody mess on his bed? Or perhaps an animal. Jack hadn't been able to play with animals in such a long time. He had never considered America to be worth paying attention to until now. Now, he had his full attention. Because he knew. And now, he was trying to make him angry. Jack listened to what he dared to say about his mother. She had been a saint. When he got in trouble in Sydney, she had come to his rescue. Gotten the surgeries, the weight training, forced him to sit and watch hours of soap operas, so he could learn to re-invent himself. Had it not been for the spineless man who called himself his father, he would have never killed her. But after all that work, the masterpiece that they had worked to create, he wanted to go back. And when he killed the man and she walked in on it, she had grabbed the nearest weapon, a knife. She was going to kill him. It was self-defense, really.
His jaw clenched. He wondered how much trouble he could get into if he reached over and punched him. "Don't talk about her like that" he growled at him. "What's the matter with you, mate? Is that what happened with your mum? You're sick. She was my mother." And with that, he stood again. He was getting far too emotional. He didn't like it. Emotions weren't supposed to be involved when it came to these things. His voice had developed a quiver with that last sentence, and he felt ready to cry. Just as he had after she died. He had cried over her body. And then he had gone to work, cutting them both up so they would fit in the freezer. "I want to leave. Are you going to arrest me or not?" Though, America hadn't allowed him to leave the first time, he didn't know why this would be any different. He didn't like this. He was out of his comfort zone. And he just wanted to go home.
|
|