Hey,

I've had this idea in my head for a while, and I've finally gotten around to writing it down. Many thanks to Ash Carroll aka ShadowDiva for helping me iron out the details.

Title is from a song by John Popper.

Evil In My Chair

I wonder what it would be like to kill them.

No, that's wrong. It's not me, not really. I know that. No, it's him, him inside me, the real me, the real devil, the real evil, the real Web.

I've heard them talk, the agents on my team, that bastard Terry. I've heard them all talk.

I'd do him first.

I'd make him suffer, make him scream. Course I'd cut his fucking tongue out first. I've heard enough of his bullshit to last me a lifetime. It'd be enough to watch the pain rush across his face, watch his eyes dilate, fixate on me.

Bliss.

He deserves it. He made so many mistakes during his time in charge of MY team. An UNSUB worth his salt would have slipped right through his hands, made him pay for his carelessness.

I would have made him pay.

I wonder would my team know, would they be able to figure it out.

Probably not.

They'd look at the evidence, analyze the patterns, do all the things they've been taught to do. They're too fucking blind to see the truth.

Rebecca would know. My sweet, beautiful Rebecca. She'd see the truth, see the way the cards were played. She'd know what sort of man I was, what sort of man I really am.

I'd do her last.

No matter how much I want her, I'd make myself wait. Her desperation, her need to see what was happening, to see what sort of man could do this, so intoxicating.

So arousing.

I need to do it. I need to…to wrap my hand around that long slender throat….

….when had it gotten so warm in my office. I can feel the sweat beading on my forehead. Then, my body is wracked with chills. What time is it? Is it time for the AC to come on?

…and start to squeeze. I'd love to feel her skin beneath my grip, feel her pulse flutter…

…with a shaking hand I open my drawer, hunting through it, searching through case files, through crime scene photos, looking for them. I know I left them in there….

…to see the realisation, the recognition, the life slowly leaving her eyes, her body sagging against mine. She'd know. She'd know I'd saved her to the end and she'd know why. I think she'd approve. She'd know what the others had felt, why I'd done them first.

I hear a knock on the door, accompanied by a voice. "Web?"

Paul's voice.

The rage rises within me, threatening to overwhelm my control, my vision tinged in blood and fire. I can see him, writhing in pain. I'd do that judgemental prick second, after Terry.

I'd have to. It would focus Rebecca, make her want the case, want the answers, make her desperation all the sweeter.

And what that would do to Danny….would make his all the sweeter, too.

Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it.

I close my eyes. Fighting for control. I have to ride this wave, that's what they told me. I had to stay in control.

"Web? Are you in there?"

I hear a noise and open my eyes, just as the door handle starts to inch downwards.

If he comes in here now, I'll fucking kill him. I'll have to. He's seen me…

My fingers brush against the small bottle and I snatch it up, cradling it in my hand. I pop the cap and drop two tablets into the palm of my other hand. I usually only take one, but I feel I need the extra dose.

The door opens and Paul stands in the doorway of my office, peering through the darkness. "Web? "

"What is it, Paul?"

I can hear my voice, harsher, harder than normal and hastily swallow one of the pills.

"We got something you might want to see. Rebecca's worked up a victim profile on the strangler case."

"Okay." I dry swallow the other pill and stand up.

"What are you taking?"

"Vitamins. I haven't been feeling too good recently."

Inside me, the beast, the devil, the real Virgil Webster howls with laughter.

The End of Evil In My Chair.

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