"It wasn't as dark and scary as it sounds. I had a lot of fun...killing somebody's a funny experience."
- Dennis Raeder (infamously known as BTK; bind, torture, kill)
SIX
FRANK HAD HIS HAND in his hair when I had stepped out of the interview hall. He watched me stumble through the metal doors that was disguised as part of the walls of the interview room. It was kind of like an emergency escape route for me if Banshee tried to do something out of the ordinary or if I just wanted to leave. The room I walked into was small, with a table and screens that showed what the security camera showed. There were two other stony faced assistants around Frank.
Once I got out, I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. The tension from the interview with Banshee was already wearing off. Frank looked anxious, for some reason, and then he spoke. "It didn't look like it went badly. How are you feeling?"
I didn't bother answering him. "How does he know my name, Frank? You told me that I get to introduce myself to him in any way I wished." I scowled, it might seem a small thing, having him know my name but I didn't like it coming out from his mouth. "You lied."
Frank rose a full brow. "What on earth are you talking about?"
Straightening my sweater and leaning up, I retorted, "He said Aria, just before he left, he said my name."
The second brow shot up to join the other raised brow. Frank looked like a deer in headlights. "I don't know how he could know it." He looked away from me, eyes moving to the ceiling. He shrugged. "Perhaps one of the guards might have let it slip? They know your name."
I narrowed my eyes. "Really, Frank."
He shook his head. "I have no idea." Then gesturing to a door beside the small room. "I'm sorry about that. Right now just calm down and tell us how it went so we could follow the fixed procedure for this."
I decided not to push further for information. He could be telling the truth, he couldn't. Perhaps he had accidentally told Banshee and forgot to inform me. At the moment, I didn't really care anymore.
Frank led me to an inner room that had a single table with two chairs before it. On the table was a matte black metal device. It was the size of an average novel. "That's the recording device. It's specially created to block out other noises, and focus on yours."
I ran a finger over the smooth metal. It looked heavy. "I've never seen one like that."
Frank smiled, understanding my confusion. "It's the best of its kind. We don't want any of the information you tell us to be tampered with. Everything you say that is recorded would be sent up to authorities higher than I am."
"Wow. That sounds serious."
"Oh, it is." He nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Have a seat. Someone will join you shortly to record your conversation." He smiled and I managed a smile back because Frank Trellis had a very nice smile. When he moved to close the door, he stopped and then looked back. "Um, Aria?"
"Yes?"
He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. "I was wondering if you'd want to have dinner with me tonight?" He flushed. "As work colleagues of course. I was just thinking it'll be a good idea considering we're going to be working closely for the next two weeks." He stopped. "Actually, it'll be more like late tea considering we only have the cafe. Unless you'd prefer take out then that's also cool."
I took pity on his fluster. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"
He looked startled. "Really?"
I chuckled. "Yes, Frank. I'll meet you downstairs at 6pm."
"Awesome."
Shortly after Frank left, the door opened and revealed the interviewer.
___
INTERVIEWER: This interview is being recorded. September 27th of 2014. The time is 12:22PM. This is the first recording of the Prisoner Project for Stockholm Correction Centre for the Dammed. This recording is in relation to Prisoner 143, Nicholas Dementia. My name is Professor Rita Frankfurt, and I will be responsible for the recording of each session.
ARIA: Rita Frankfurt? [snort] Such a unique name. I love it.
INTERVIEWER: [pause] Please. [sigh] Would you tell us your full name and-?
ARIA: You already know me, Mirabel.
INTERVIEWER: This is mandatory protocol. You need to cooperate, Aria. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we both can leave. Please, tell me your full name and date of birth.
ARIA: Why? So they also know how young and dumb you think I am?
INTERVIEWER: [silence]
ARIA: OK, OK. Aria Eden Black. October 3rd 1992.
INTERVIEWER: Thank you, Miss Black.
ARIA: Aria. Call me Aria.
INTERVIEWER: Alright, Aria. Please begin the narration of how the interview went between you and Nicholas Dememtia. Do not leave out any details.
ARIA: It didn't.
INTERVIEWER: You're going to have to elaborate, Aria.
ARIA: It didn't go anywhere. It was barely a conversation.
INTERVIEWER: [pause]
Rita (Mirabel) stopped the recording device and sighed. "Look here, Aria. You might think it's not important but every single detail of your interview is useful. It helps us gauge the relationship between you two, how you converse, any immediate changes in the style of conversation, all that jazz. The people who receive this information are experts."
"I know." I deadpanned.
She sighed. "And I'm sorry for calling you young and dumb yesterday."
I nodded. "You also called me impossibly stupid."
"I apologise for that too."
Satisfied, I smiled. "Apology accepted. Turn the recording back on."
INTERVIEWER: Interview was put on hold because participant needed to use the restroom. Alright, Aria, please give us the narration of what occurred between you and Nicholas Dementia.
ARIA: Naturally, I was terrified and the whole interview was scary. He threatened to, excuse my cuss, shatter the glass and break my fucking neck because I called him...I called him a disgusting murderer.
INTERVIEWER: [pause] You called him that and he only made an empty threat?
ARIA: Yes.
INTERVIEWER: Why did you call him a disgusting murderer?
ARIA: Because he is. [pause] Because I was nervous and seeing him came as a shock to me. I had expected some Devil incarnate but he seemed fairly human. He also seemed educated. He spoke like a cultured English man. So I reminded him of what he is.
INTERVIEWER: Interesting. Our records state that Nicholas dropped out of school at the age of 15. He's barely educated but it's interesting to hear that. What else happened?
ARIA: I kind of fell over because the buzzing sound shocked me. Stupid, I know. But then when I got up, he....smiled. I swear he smiled. "
INTERVIEWER: [long silence]
ARIA: Don't look at me that way, I'm not lying.
INTERVIEWER: Are you sure? Nicholas smiled at you?
ARIA: I wasn't sure at first but then he confirmed it. He said A smile, Aria. I'll spare your life.
INTERVIEWER: He said your name? You have not pointed out the part where you told him your name.
ARIA: I didn't tell him. I don't know how he knew it. That's all we said before he left.
INTERVIEWER: [silence]
ARIA: I promise, that was all.
INTERVIEWER: OK. Thank you. That's the end of the interview.
I hadn't even had the chance to speak when she stood up, grabbed the recorder, and left.
______
I hadn't bothered to dress up for this late tea because it was Frank I was meeting. We were only colleagues, and I really couldn't see myself being interested in him. Even as he had a contagious smile, and bright eyes, I didn't know him. Besides, my job seemed more tasking than I had expected and I didn't need some office romance to spice up my life any further.
Frank, on the other hand, had worn his neatly pressed work suit, pulled out my chair for me to sit, and complimented my eyes.
I took a bite of my caesar salad and mused. "I still don't understand how this cafe has real food."
He looked up from his pasta and shrugged. "Beats me. It was like this when I came."
"Mhm. I was going to ask that." I dropped my fork. "When did you come?"
The light in his eyes twinkled. "I've been in Stockholm for about six months now." He pushed his half eaten plate of pasta away. "And if you were referring to the Prisoner Project, I've been in the team for a couple months now."
"Wow. You really pushed yourself up the ladder to be in this position today."
He chuckled, and then winked. "It's my charm. Also the fact that I'm very talented at what I do."
I shook my head, incredulous. "Way to blow your own horn, Trellis."
"Not really. I'm good at what I do and have accepted it." He started. "You, on the other hand, are amazing at what you do. You were a child prodigy. Graduating with an honours at 18? What have you been up to since then?"
Hold up. His rapid change from his job to my life flipped the table over me. I was startled. Frowning, I said. "You've snooped in my files. If you're so talented, why don't you know everything about my life?"
He didn't catch onto my sarcasm quick enough. "I don't know everything. Some information about your past that we tried to get a hand on had diplomatic seals on them. We can't access those."
I narrowed my eyes and spat. "That means it's none of your business."
He froze, looking up from his glass of Chardonnay. "Wait. Are you upset?"
I rose an obvious brow. "I think it's weird that you know so much about me when I haven't told you anything."
His eyes widened. "Oh. Oh Gosh. I'm so sorry." His cheeks stained red. "I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I didn't realise how that sounded. You're right, it's totally none of my business."
I sighed. "It's OK."
He managed an apologetic smile. "Thanks. I guess I'm just nervous. You're incredibly smart and very beautiful so I forget what's right to say. Sue me."
It was my turn to blush. "Aha, that's sweet. You're not so bad yourself."
He blew on his nails and buffed it on his shirt. He joked. "I know."
I rolled my eyes and lifted my glass of water. I wasn't drinking alcohol. "Here's to my first day," With a grin, he lifted his glass and clinked it with mine. "I can't believe I survived an interview with the Devil. I'm proud."
After he sipped his drink, he said. "I'm glad you're not running for the hills. You never answered my question earlier on." He leaned closer. "How are you feeling? How did it go?"
I wrinkled my nose. "Poo. He was frightening,"
"You didn't get anything out of him?" Frank said, not in a condescending way but there was a hitch there. Really minuscule one. "I understand it's your first day and that wasn't the plan for today but I'm intrigued."
I tucked a stray curl back into my bun. "No. He doesn't talk very often."
He nodded, as if he understood every word I said. "I see. You're yet to find common ground."
I found his statement hilarious and couldn't help my burst of laughter. I managed, in between giggles. "I and Banshee don't have anything in common."
"You never know." He said, without a smile.
I rolled my eyes. "I know."
"I guess that will have to change." He muttered, frowning slightly.
I chuckled absentmindedly. "What are you talking about?"
He shook his head and pasted on a smile. "Nothing. How was the salad?"
___
a/n:
A little comic relief + a little suspense + a few subtle secrets = filler chapter ❤️
Thanks everyone for stars + comments + reads! When you star it tells me that you liked it and it keeps me updating!