The interrogation room was lined with dark grey brick walls, and a single dim-lit lamp hung from the ceiling. A metal table separated me and the interrogator. I was still handcuffed, and I placed both hands on the table as the stern-faced man leant forward, his slanted eyes fixed on my face.
“I didn’t kill anybody,” I said before he began.
“That is for you to know, and for me to find out,” he picked up a pen, twirled it in between his fingers. “So, tell me, why are you under arrest for murder if you claim to be innocent?”
“I didn’t kill anybody,” I repeated. “I swear, I’ve never laid a hand on anybody on that list.”
“Kayla Dodgers, the nurse; an unidentified man you left lying on the road; Ryan Harris, the poor two-limbed man you poisoned, and then buried; and Seth Harris, whom you killed with a gunshot to the chest, and then buried.”
“No, you don’t understand,” I protested. “I didn’t commit any murder. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Well, once they have the bodies processed, we’ll know if you’re telling me the truth,” he shrugged. “I don’t believe a single word that is coming out of your mouth, by the way.”
“I’m innocent,” I tried again. “I’m not involved in all that, okay? You’ve got to believe me.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t, because that’s what everyone says when they get into this room.”
###
“Bane West, you have been charged for murder in first degree,” the interrogator snapped, stroking his beard as he laid his small eyes upon the dark-haired man. “Do you deny this?”
Bane was silent. If he admitted it, he would go straight to jail, and receive a life sentence. This wasn’t how life was supposed to be, right? But if he denied it, his punishment would probably a lot worse than life in prison. What the hell was he supposed to say?
“Do you deny this?” the man asked again, louder this time.
“No,” Bane said. “I did kill somebody, but it was merely self-defense.”
“You should have come to the police.”
“What, after accidentally murdering someone, I come to the police, just to be arrested and convicted of murder?”
“That is definitely a better option,” the man placed both arms on the table, and clasped his hands together. He picked up the piece of paper from the side of the table, and turned it so that it was facing Bane in the correct position. “These people, you killed them all?”
Bane scrolled his gaze down the list, and his heart sank when he saw the name Ryan Harris, Seth Harris, and then his second wife’s name, Martha. God, what was he going to do now? Should he admit his wrongdoing?
“I’m sorry, I’m going to need a lawyer,” Bane said after a long moment.
“I’m sorry, a lawyer is not going to help you with this,” the man slammed a palm down on the table. “You just admitted to murdering somebody, so having a lawyer wouldn’t change a fact.”
“Sh-,” Bane muttered under his breath.
“You can spin your way around with all this, but you can’t escape the fact,” the interrogator said. “Bane West, you’re guilty of murder.”
“I want a lawyer,” Bane had his head down. Damn, was he ever going to get out of this mess? The crazy attacker on the road-killing him was for self-defense, right? And he hadn’t even laid a hand upon Ryan, or Seth, so that would be a plus side. But the nurse, and his wife…God, he was in knee-deep trouble with that.
“Sorry man, but today ain’t your day. Evidence comes in, and you’ll go right to jail. For life,” the man was a little too threatening and annoying, it was pissing Bane off.
“You don’t know the truth,” Bane said. “You don’t know what really happened.”
“Well, all that is going to be exposed sooner or later. For now, you’re held guilty for first degree murder, and there will be no more excuses.”
“You haven’t proven me guilty!” Bane raised his voice.
“You said it so yourself, Bane,” the man said his name vulgarly. “You admitted your own wrongdoing. So if you want to blame somebody, blame your own stupid self.”
###
Raphael moved his fingers nervously under the table. The interrogator was a skinny man, with large green eyes and a bony frame. Raphael could whip him away with one swing of his arm.
“You are charged for murder,” the thin man began to say. He had a high, pitchy voice, and his eyes were on the piece of paper on the table.
“I am innocent,” Raphael said. “Do what you can, but you can’t prove me guilty. I haven’t committed any crime.”
“This,” Skinny pushed a photograph across the table towards Raphael. “We found your prints all over his body. The victim is unidentified.”
“Self-defense,” Raphael said, averting the photo of the man he had killed with one snap of his jaws. “He tried to attack me.”
“We have no evidence of that. Do you deny killing him?”
“I don’t deny killing him, but it was only for self-defense, I swear.”
“So that is murder,” the man said, sounding bored.
“You don’t understand. I was only trying to protect myself. He tried to kill me, man!”
“Well, you should have just come to the police after you committed a crime, either accidentally or purposefully.”
“Accidentally!” Raphael hollered, but the skinny man waved a hand.
“Whatever. As long as you murdered someone, you are not innocent.”
“What? Didn’t you hear a word I just said?”
“You’re guilty of murder,” he ignored Raphael, and stood up. “You’ll spend the rest of your life in jail.”
“No!” Raphael shouted, but two policemen came in, hauled him up. “You don’t understand! I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“That’s what they all say,” the interrogator made a gesture with his skeletal hand, and a kicking and thrashing Raphael was dragged away.
YOU ARE READING
HUNT, OR BE HUNTED
Mystery / ThrillerHe was always blacking out, always confused, losing control of his actions. And when he did, he would have no memory of it. What he didn't know was that there was a monster inside him, a monster that he couldn't control. Once it took over, not a sin...
