"Why'd you do it, son?" Detective Dixon was a large man, made to look even larger as he was sitting across from the tiny nine year Kevin McCallister. The room was small and white, with a bright light shining from the ceiling. A mirror lined the entire wall Kevin was facing. "What did those people ever do to you?"
"I told you," Kevin said, his face innocent. "Those two were the Wet Bandits. They were breaking into my house."
"Son," Dixon said, leaning in close, and speaking slowly and deliberately. "Harry Horowitz and Marvin Daniels have been dead for over a year now. You know that, you were there."
"I didn't do anything wrong to them!" Kevin shouted defensively. "They were robbing my house! So I held them off until the police arrived!"
"The police arrived because your neighbor reported what sounded like a fight. The injuries those two men received multiple and massive damage to their skulls and spinal cords. The paramedics said it was a cruel miracle that it took them as long as it did for them to die from their wounds."
"But they came after me again, in New York City?" Kevin protested. Detective Dixon flipped through his notebook.
"Right, that would around Christmas of last year, correct?"
"The Wet Bandits came after me again, and on Christmas of all times!" As Kevin shouted, Dixon's face grew dead serious.
"Son, those people you killed in New York? They weren't the 'Wet Bandits'." He slid large mugshot-style photos across the table for Kevin to see. "This man here was Luke Grant. You threw bricks from a rooftop as he walked down the street with his wife and daughter." He slid another photo to Kevin. "This was Jonathan Paxton. You set his clothes alight with a blowtorch, and tricked him into throwing himself into a kiddie pool of kerosene. It took him three days to die of his burns, Kevin. His mother was by his side the whole time."
"But that can't be! The... Wet Bandits... followed me..." Kevin stuttered, lost for words.
"You rigged the houses you were using to launch your attacks with
"And what about the murders on Washington Street, the ones who said a boy named 'Alex' did?"
"That was Alex! International spies were trying to steal his chip!" Kevin shouted, as Dixon slammed his fists down on the table.
"Enough lies! We can place you at all three crime scenes, Kevin! You're finished! The only way you can make things better is by telling us where Mr. Langston's head is!" Kevin stared coldly at Detective Dixon, not saying a word. After a brief moment of the staring game, Dixon stood and looked at the mirror. Behind the one-way glass, Kevin's parents stood with behavioral analyst Jordan Webster, a blond woman wearing a blue pantsuit ensemble.
"Kevin's displaying signs of a severe delusion. He's reliving the night the Wet Bandits targeted your home. Do you remember that night?" She asked, as Kevin's teary-eyed mother looked away from her son to answer Webster.
"Yes, we remember coming home to a blood-soaked and booby trap-laden house. That was the Christmas we left him behind by accident."
"After brutalizing those two burglars, something inside Kevin changed that day." Webster explained to Kevin's confused parents. "He wanted to kill those two burglars again and again. His mind cannot register that they're dead. He's putting their names and faces on random people, so he can relive his first kills."
Suddenly, something banged hard against the one-way mirror. Startled, the trio looked into the room, to find Detective Dixon pounding loudly against the window from the other side, Kevin latched onto his back. Dixon was screaming as Kevin's teeth dug into his neck. Webster rushed from the observation room just as two uniformed police officers burst into the interrogation room, grabbing at Kevin. He released his bite from Dixon's neck, which was gushing blood, but his tiny hands clung to the man's shoulders as the police officers grabbed his legs.
One of the police officers removed his Taser from his belt, and jammed it into Kevin's back. Kevin spasmed as the voltage flowed through his tiny body. His death grip from Dixon was released, and still thrashing, Kevin was violently dragged from the room by what was now a mob of five uniformed officers, struggling to contain the young boy.
"Keep the change, ya filthy animals!" He screamed as he disappeared down the hallway.