"Old" stories

The Woman

The Woman
        He never thought that he was the type of person that let people leave imprints on him, he never thought that he was capable of caring for such an impentitent person like she was. But she had that effect on people, and she knew, she used it to her advantage. It was her weapon. At first he denied all the accusations he received from his colleagues when they accused him of having a soft spot for the woman. He just pushed it aside and deemed it implausible that he, a detective of ten years who has put away countless monsters the worked never seemed to run dry of alongside his team, could care for her, a highly wanted and dangerous criminal who was finally in their custody after attempting impersonate their chief over emails and various phone calls.  He never wanted to fall for her tricks, he knew who she was and what she did, but he couldn't help it, she intrigued him like no other. He couldn't help but feel slight guilt for feeling the way he did towards her but also feel a bit creepy for constantly looking up at her at her temporary cell were she was imprisoned across the hall from were he perched himself on a bench as he attempted to read her file. But his feelings were immaterial right now because despite the way he felt he had to remember that she was a cold blooded murder and she did horrible things to twenty three people including herself in attempt to make herself imperceptible, which worked for a while until his partner noticed the inconsistencies in the case and how involved she was getting. He had to remain impartial on her case and not let his feelings get in the way of justice, of the job he dedicated his life to, just for some woman who had done some horrible things. So in dismay over himself he got up and decided that she didn't matter to him in the way she did and that he was going to go take a walk to clear his head of the thoughts of her and put her where she belonged no matter how much he didn't want her to.