The second he saw the mask fall, George stood up again.
"Now we're getting somewhere..." George murmured as he appraised the man in front of him. Clay had a very prominent jawline, freckles splattered across his nose and sharp eyes. In George's opinion, they were the best feature of the killer. His irises were a startling green with copper-coloured streaks coming out from behind the pupil.
"Are you finished gawking at me yet? I know I'm hot, you don't have to stare," Clay snapped irritably. George looked away, feeling his cheeks burning.
"I said no more trouble."
"Oh, I know. I'm just good at what I do. When people meet me, they're either extremely attracted to me, or..." Clay trailed off, taunting the honorary FBI agent.
"Or?" George asked. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what the killer had to say next.
"Or I murder them," Dream responded perfectly calmly. "Sometimes I'll burn them, hell, sometimes I'll eat the cunts. Either way, they die and I get to satisfy myself." George felt a shiver shoot up his spine at the words but repressed any visible reactions. He knew what Dream had done in the past - he'd seen it all before. The killer sounded almost proud. Disgusting.
"Looks like you're going to have to kill me, then," George tried to stop the incessant shaking of his hands.
"I just might," Dream took a step toward the glass. Remembering George's warning, Clay stopped himself, instead moving back to where he was before.
"What do you know about the Fire Killer?" George got straight to the point. He had no more time to talk about his death.
"You mean Sapnap?" Recognition flashed in Clay's eyes.
"You two friends?" George raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, yeah. Nick and I go way back," Clay smiled. George's eyes lit up. He reached for his notebook and began scribbling furiously. Clay's smile was replaced by a look of anger at himself.
"Do you happen to have a surname for me as well?" George coaxed.
"Don't push it, asshole. I didn't even mean to give you that, don't think you're getting anything else," Dream snarled.
"Alright, what about an address? A kill pattern? A motive?"
"I just said, you're not getting anything outta me. I don't have to tell you shit." Clay was beginning to get annoyed again. Was it worth actually sedating the killer?
"Well I guess I'll have to come back when you're feeling more co-operative," George finished, sighing as he went to grab his folder. He ripped the page with Sapna- Nick's name on it out of his notebook and stuck it in one of the clear files. Without another glance in Clay's direction, the FBI trainee turned on his heels and set off down the thin corridor.
"Wait!" Clay shouted. George spun back to face the blonde. Could he be about to tell me something?
"What about you, agent? I've told you oh so much about myself, isn't it your turn?" Dream's tone was sweet, innocent. It reminded George of the way that Niki spoke and it sent a wave of nausea crashing over him. Sam's words came back to him.
"Don't tell him anything personal. You don't want Dream inside your head."
"Well, if you don't tell me anything that I need to know, how can I trust you with that kind of information?" George knew that he was never going to give the psychopath anything worth noting, but he may as well milk the prospect a little.
"That's not very fair, now, is it?" Dream patronized, tilting his head to the side.
"Life isn't fair, Clay," George reminded the killer.
"Darling, I've been here for three years. I know that all too well," Clay cocked his head once more, looking at George with puppy-dog-eyes.
You don't want Dream inside your head.
"If you have nothing else for me, I'll be off," George rolled his eyes at Dream's attempt at manipulating him.
"Goodbye, then, my love. I'll be seeing you again very soon, I can feel it," Clay said, flashing George an obviously faked smile. George didn't look back as he walked away from the cell.
____________________________________
The hotel that Schlatt had gotten the two of them was a relatively nice one, rather dapper. George's hands were still shaking violently as he fiddled with the room key. He let out a despondent sigh when the tiny keyhole proved too difficult for him.
"Hey, you alright, kid?" Schlatt asked. He wasn't really worried (he thought of George as a massive pussy), but the events of the day and how the boy had dealt with them had earned some of Schlatt's respect.
"Y- yeah... I'm alright, sir. Just a bit shaken," George tried to stop his voice from breaking.
"You know Dream can't get to you, right? For one thing, he's in that fuckin' cell, there's no way he can get out of there alive. For another, if you don't tell him anything, he can't do anything."
"But I'm planning on using that against him. Blackmail," George explained. When Schlatt motioned for him to continue, he did.
"Before I left, Cl- Dream asked me about myself. I didn't tell him jack-shit, but the thought that I might sent him into a frenzy. I saw it in his eyes. Just the inkling that I might have told him something gave him hope, excited him. I can use that to our advantage."
"And how is that?" Schlatt prompted. The way that George's thought process worked was something that he had encountered on only two other occasions. The way his brain was wired forced him to look in ever nook, every cranny until he found a solution that worked. It was awe-inducing.
"By telling him one small, meaningless thing every time he gives me any information on the Fire Killer. Speaking of, we have a name," George said proudly.
"Well, fuck! I underestimated you, kid. I thought you were gonna come back completely empty handed!" The lack of confidence Schlatt had in George was almost insulting. Rolling his eyes, George continued.
"I pushed for a surname, but the little bitch wouldn't say another word about him. Sapnap's first name is Nick."
"I did not underestimate you. You're such a fuckin' disappointment. I thought you'd have more than that," Schlatt grumbled. "God, the second we get back to the Academy, I will personally make sure that your deans know what a failure you are." George paid his superior no notice. The man was obviously inebriated, as per usual. A name is more than fully-trained FBI agents had gotten out of Dream in the past. George had to celebrate his victory in silence.
The plane ride back to Virginia went smoothly with no further arguments between the two. They sat in silence, hostility clouding the air. The minute they arrived at the Academy, both men beelined for the administrative block.
____________________________________
"You may enter," a voice from inside of the Head's office.
"Sir, my name is George Davidson, and I-"
"Oh! You're our little British agent! Tell me, how did it go with the Dream Killer in Florida?" Philza interrupted.
"It was... terrifying if I'm honest."
"I thought it might be. Quite the manipulator, is Dream," Phil mused. "I imagine he mentioned me at least once during the interaction?"
"By name, sir."
"Hah, thought so," Phil smiled inwardly. George felt about Philza the same way he felt about Mr. Starr at the asylum. He truly liked speaking with him. "Please, enlighten me. What did he have to say?"
"Well, sir, he... he called you a bastard and then spat some rather rude things about your mother," George flinched. Even just by parroting someone else's words, he could be in serious trouble for saying such things to an FBI official. Lucky for him, Philza burst out laughing. George chuckled uncertainly with his superior.
"Some things never change," Phil smiled after he had finished. "Did you complete your mission?"
"I managed to get a name for the Fire Killer, Sapnap. His first name is Nick, no surname as of yet," George informed the executive director.
"Well, that's fantastic!" Phil said warmly.
"Er, General Schlatt did not feel the same way, sir. I'd expect a few rather derogatory comments about my performance as an agent," George admitted.
"Pay him no mind. I'll deal with him when the time comes, and as for you, do not do anything stupid. If you want to go back to Florida, you need to be on your guard at all times. Understand me, Davidson?"
"Understood, sir." George exited Philza Minecraft's office feeling victoriously triumphant.
The next day, word got out that Schlatt had been fired. *shocked pikachu face*
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Word count: 1465
Luna xx