|The Unnamed Murderer
Author: willgirl PM
An interrogation from the perspective of the murderer. A Booth Express Challenge entry.Rated: Fiction K - English - Drama - S. Booth & T. Brennan - Words: 741 - Reviews: 17 - Favs: 6 - Published: 04-22-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4212814
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: This is my entry for the Booth Express Challenge over on Livejournal. The link is in my profile. The challenge was to write a story from the perspective of someone other than the main characters. If you want to enter, just head on over!
He smiled as the man came in. Another typical cop. This would be too easy. But then the man shifted and a woman came in beside him. His pants tightened at the sight of her. She was beautiful, just like his girls. He would have to restrain himself though. Now was not the time or place for that. Later though….
He grinned at the thought and the cop asked what was so funny as they both sat down across from them. The man introduced them. What kind of name was Seeley? Special Agent Seeley Booth, an arrogant asshole of a man from what he could see.
Her on the other hand, Dr. Temperance Brennan. She seemed fiery and strong. Exactly what he liked in a woman. He loved when he could turn them submissive. She would be hard but was definitely willing to try.
The man, this Agent Booth or whatever, asked a series of stupid questions. Why would he ask things he already knew the answer to? Clearly he wasn't clever at all. Not like himself.
He was different. That's the word they used when he was growing up. Never fit in, preferred to be by himself, didn't go to university. You see, he didn't know what he wanted to be when he grew up, was unsure of his passion.
But then he found it.
Killing people. He liked to kill people. And he never got caught. Until now.
Apparently the woman was some sort of expert and could look at the bones and tell things about them. She was different too. Smart, pretty but he sensed she never fit in, just like him.
It didn't really matter. They wouldn't catch him.
What's that he said? His brother? No, no, no he didn't want to talk about that. How did he know about his brother? Who told him? His mother? He should have killed that bitch when he had a chance.
Stop staring! This Agent Booth kept looking at him, trying to stare the answer out of him. But it wouldn't work. He was different, special.
He saw her touch the agent's arm and then he smiled, feeling like he regained the upper hand.
They were sleeping together. It was so obvious, from the darted looks and the way she touched him, like she was familiar with his body.
Would they go home together and have sex? Hard against the wall or soft on a bed? He let his mind go as he thought about entering the room, killing Agent Booth and rescuing Dr. Brennan, having her from himself.
He liked to rescue his girls.
He made some crass comments and the agent leapt across the table, pushing his head down against the cold metal of the table. His smile at the thought of having won soon dissipated into a dark feeling in the pit of his belly, one he hadn't felt in a long time.
When the agent whispered in his ear that he would kill him if he touched her, he had no choice but to believe. There was something so feral about the agent, calm, collected and easy going but underneath…underneath he was something to be afraid of.
The agent released him and he sat up, looking over at the doctor.
She didn't blink, but proceeded to tell him that they found his DNA all over Sheryl. She rambled on in science-speak but he understood the gist of it.
And he realized he should be afraid of her too.
He felt himself slowly crumble before these two strangers, his executioners, and he was angry for it.
Couldn't they see? This is what he was good at. He was just following his destiny.
But his heart felt heavy as lead and the pleasure that had lingered from his last kill was now gone. Nothing was left except Agent Booth's eyes, boring a hole into his skull. Nothing left but Dr. Brennan sitting carefully beside him, her hands folded as if she held all the answers in the world.
Nothing left but to tell the truth.