Book #2 in the "Drug-Laced" series
After the "murder" of his best friend, Harrison is sent to a mental facility but doesn't last long inside after discovering his trace wasn't exactly clean, and Tom is still very much alive. With the certainty Tom w...
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The dim light illuminated a small circle in which I was the center of, the rest of the room fading into a pitch-black labyrinth. I was sitting on my own for a few short minutes before the obnoxious creaking sound of an old metal door pierced the silence.
"Mr. Osterfield?" A voice called out from the doorway as the light from outside accompanied the light above me. I turned, but only slightly, barely catching a glimpse of a middle-aged man in my peripheral, "This is detective Gyllenhaal and Downey."
I turned a bit more, the man entering my full field of vision as well as two other men. The man pointed towards each of them as their names left his mouth. One with light brown hair that was very noticeable even with the lack of light, Gyllenhaal. Then the other, with darker hair and stronger facial complexion, Downey. The man nodded at me then at the two detectives, mouthing a 'good luck' before leaving the room.
They rounded the table and sat in the two chairs on the other side, faking a grin as one pulled out a beige folder and rested it on the table. They let a few seconds of silence pass, the silence washing over the room and letting the soft sounds of rain outside fill in the empty noise.
"We looked through your files and it shows that you've been in a mental institution before when you were younger?" Gyllenhaal broke the dreaded silence, leaning into the light and emphasizing the jeweled emerald in his eyes.
"What does that have to do with anything?" I simply said.
"Well, from sources that we won't name, we've heard that all of this is because of jealousy, selfishness. Things of that manner. Apparently, this isn't the first case in which you've gotten unhinged because you couldn't get your way."
"If you know all of this, why are you interrogating me? Why not just lock me away now?"
"Locking you away wouldn't do any good. We don't need psychos in or out of prison. We need you to get some help, fast." Downey inserted, sitting on the edge of the table and turning to the side to face me, his chocolate irises being illuminated in the light.
"Since when do fucking policemen give a shit about psychopaths?"
"Detectives!" He exclaimed in a sing-song tone, pretending to be cheerful as if he knew it would send me over the edge.
"Shut up," I growled.
"We can't help you if you're going to be an-" Gyllenhaal started before Downey finished, "asshole."
"He took everything from me!" I blurted out in pure anger, my fists pounding into the table as I said so.
"Or did the fact that you convinced yourself you had complete ownership over a woman you just met and he proved to you that you didn't upset you?"
I repeated the action, the loud sound of bones popping filling the room afterward, then followed by constant loud banging, "he didn't deserve her!"
At that point, police officers were alerted and rushing in to hold me back, snatching and holding my arms behind my back, but I continued to thrash. I spit my hot venom at them, Gyllenhaal flinching before his face was washed with anger. He wiped his face slowly and surely, balling his fists.
"She's mine!" I screamed with determination and anger as they dragged me out of the room, my feet dragging behind as I refused to let this fight be over, "you can't stop me! He can't stop me! Nobody can!"
