Chapter Text
He almost looked pitiful. Except for that maniacal gleam in his eye - that expression that mocked the living. He was chained at the wrists, shackled at the ankles. Enough slack to walk, but not run. Anyone else could misjudge him as being defeated and helpless. But I knew better. This guy was trouble, the type of trouble that festered and boiled beneath the surface, waiting for an opportune moment to burst forth. With ebony eyes, he stared up at me from his seat in the middle of the room. His whole self was an oil spill on snow- black eyes and black hair stark against white skin, patterned with red burn scars. He looked like a cursed china doll, and I had to mentally shake myself. I knew this guy’s history- I witnessed the gristly results of it firsthand. Dismembering his victims like an abattoir worker. And one of the victims had been a child! There was blackness in his soul, right down to the core.
After he'd been arrested, the Los Angeles BB Murderer had refused to speak to the police or anyone else, merely grinning when questioned about his motives. He'd never even relinquished a legal name, forcing everyone to address him by his assumed name, Rue Ryuzaki. I was summoned to try and squeeze some information out of him, the hope being that our shared history on this case would give him more reason to speak. I had been visiting him once every few weeks for about three months. By orders, not of my own prerogative, and without Raye’s knowledge.
Raye Penber. My boyfriend of several years. A fine FBI agent, with several high-profile cases under his belt. He had been very distraught when the truth came about about Rue Ryuzaki. When he heard that I’d been alone with a serial killer, essentially a bad word or mood away from being killed myself, he took me in his arms and hugged me hard enough to leave bruises. I’d held him too, but not with the same intensity. After all, bad as the situation had been, I didn’t realise the danger I was in at the time. And we’d caught him, so there was no more reason to be afraid. Raye couldn’t seem to fathom why I wasn’t more shaken. He’d suggested time and time again for me to quit the FBI. Said it was because I’d earned my retirement. I knew he was just afraid for me, didn’t want me involved in that world any more. But the FBI still wanted me, and I felt compelled to do my job, like a duck is compelled to swim. I just kept the fact that I was interviewing Ryuzaki on the down low, so as not to start another argument.
Ryuzaki did speak to me. Not at first. But I think he got bored, and saw value in toying with me. So he spoke, but nothing useful. Mainly evasion and mockery. And that was that, according to my superiors. Something to tick off the sheet. Even without a confession, we had enough evidence to convict. He was now confined to a small, dingy cell, refused bail, doomed to a life of imprisonment, assuming the inmates he was soon to acquire didn’t beat him to death first. But me, I wasn’t satisfied. I felt as close as anybody could be to Ryuzaki, and if I felt that way, maybe he felt similar to me. Maybe, if I tried hard enough, he’d let something slip. By accident or on purpose, it didn’t matter. I had to find out if there were other murders, other victims. I had to. The dead little girl’s face would swim by my eyes if I ever considered giving up.
So I came in several more times over the following month, of my own free will. The warden knew me now, and assumed everything was on the up-and-up. And thank goodness for that. I didn’t care to consider what would happen if my secret meetings were discovered. Reprimand at the very least, if not being fired all together. It would likely come down to L’s decision, as he had become the head of the investigation. That strange man, looking like a brother to Ryuzaki, but totally different in morality. I only barely knew him, and could not say how he would judge my actions.
I had come today without direct instruction, knowing it could be my last chance to get information out of the criminal. The trial was coming in a few days. Once he was in jail, and not a holding cell, I would not be able to lie my way into the building. So there was a lot of pressure on me, and I could fell it in the beads of sweat collecting on the back of my neck. I pinned my hair into a ponytail, trying to calm my nerves. But I kept sweating as I walked past the security guard. His sharp eyes and thinning hair reminded me of a school principal, and it made me needlessly paranoid that he’d figure out I was here without permission. He watched me from above the lip of his fishing magazine.
Ryuzaki seemed to respond more to changes and intrigue. So to deliberately contrast the more direct methods I had employed last time, for this visit I decided to attempt a more casual approach. I stood just outside the door, and casually examined his surroundings while he stared at me. The cell was almost bare. There was no furniture aside a bench and a toilet, both at gas-station levels of cleanliness. The brick walls were painted a steely blue. An inconsistency in the paint’s texture near the door made me squat down and examine it. Scribbled into the surface, with what looked like blood, was some sort of word puzzle. A puzzle made entirely of ‘L’s and ‘B’s.
"Still the same psychopath, aren't you?" I said to the pale man, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of his cell. I sat down on the folding chair that had been provided for me, and tucked my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket. It was a strange but unfortunately not unfamiliar feeling, being so close to a killer. Was it fear? Not really. I was safe outside the gate, and the guard at the end of the hallway looked brutish enough to easily intervene. No, the smells rolling off Ryuzaki’s unwashed clothes pushed my feelings much closer to revulsion.
"That's a matter of opinion." he replied conversationally. "But if dissecting, analysing and fabricating a single scenario for months on end is psychotic, then I'd have to agree with you."
"A scenario? What kind of scenario?"
He grinned, showing off teeth that looked distinctly sharper than normal human teeth. "My escape, of course.”
"Escape," I scoffed. "Oh dear, you are more likely to grow wings and a tail than to be getting out of this place — or your incoming sentence — alive.”
A smirk. "Dear? Someone getting soft on the psychopath?"
"I meant as in, dear me. Don’t twist my words.” I said curtly. I would not let him insinuate such a thing about me. The only interest I had in him, beyond getting information for my organisation, was a bit of fascination with his twisted psyche. I had briefly entertained the idea of psychology as a career, back when I'd been young and naïve, but that fell by the wayside. Things happened, and I'd taken up firearms instead of therapy. A fair trade, and on individuals like this, far more satisfying.
"Does he know you're here?"
I tensed involuntarily. Had it been so obvious I was acting without direct orders? "That's none of your business.” I said, trying to sound calm.
“I’m just asking a simple question. Frankly, I’m just surprised to see you here again so soon. It seems like he’s giving you way too much leash, and you’re just running loose all over the park.”
“I don't have to report to L on my every move," I snapped. Maybe it was from hearing the word ‘bitch’ one too many times, but there was something about dog metaphors that always rubbed me the wrong way.
Ryuzaki stared at me with wide eyes, and a laugh burst out of him. “You thought— I meant your boyfriend! Oh, but this is even more delicious!” Then, lowering his voice so that nobody could overhear, he said, “You’re not strictly here on police orders. Oh, deary, deary me. Then why are you here, Misora? The thrill of my company? The warm atmosphere of my cell? Better answer in a satisfying way, or I’ll tell the guard what you just told me."
Crap. My paranoia about my visits with Ryuzaki had been at the front of my mind. I hadn't even considered that Ryuzaki had been referring to Raye. I don’t think I’d ever talked directly about Raye to him. But it’s easy enough to overhear conversations. Damn you, Ryuzaki. He’d squirrelled my secret out. What could I do to get the upper hand again? Could I possibly distract him by changing the topic back to Raye?
"Of course Raye knows I'm here. He cares about my wellbeing? What about your family? Does your-- oh wait, nobody knows that you’re in here, because you don’t have a family." The comment was cruel, intentionally so. I hoped that talking about something personal would move him towards memories of his past, including past victims.
"Touched a nerve, did I?" he questioned smugly. "Resorting to insults to throw me off? How low of you. You must be feeling very nervous. Sneaking around behind your boss’ back? Naughty naughty. As for me, you’re wrong. There are people who know where I am. But they’re sensible enough to stay away. For now. Besides, in the meantime I have you. For some reason you seem to be keeping a particularly close eye on me, months after the case has been closed.”
A horrible thought crossed my mind. A horrible, disgusting thought. One that I shuddered to even consider. But consider it I did. Ryuzaki’s interest in my motivation to visit was clearly a topic he was interested in. He’d never been so verbal and animated in all our sessions as he was right now. I had a suspicion that he had some sort of crush on me. We had history, I was the only female who went near him these days, it was logical. And if I was careful, I could use those feelings to make Ryuzaki think I was here because I felt similarly.
Yes. It could work. And all I’d have to do is keep the bile from rising in the back of my throat.
“It’s complicated,” I said, averting my eyes and ever so slightly biting my lip. This made his grin wider.
“Tell me, Misora. Don't worry - I won't tell your boyfriend, or the police."
"Like you have a choice in the matter. Last time I checked, you couldn't move three paces without having a gun pointed at you." I cocked my head to the left. "Now, tell me more about these friends of yours."
"Guns...bah.” He waved a shackled hand at both the idea and my inquiry. “I've lit myself on fire, sweetheart - guns are a rush for me.”
"You need to get some new turn-ons." I commented, playing into my new role by making the vaguely sexual comment and immediately regretted it when I saw the reaction on his face. His grin was feral, reviling. "Ooh, Misora - is that an invitation?"
"No." I stood up and stepped back involuntarily, putting a greater distance between us. Maybe I should have stayed sitting, but that expression had genuinely frighted me.
"Come on, you know I love your dirty talking," he murmured, staring up at me. "Call me a heinous bastard."
"I hope the guard is ready for if this gets ugly," I warned, and looked back to the large man, who adjusted his stance to glare at Ryuzaki.
"I’m not a fan of that one,” Ryuzaki said. “I asked for a guard who could crack a joke, share a smoke. Instead I ended up with Joe Humourless." Ryuzaki did something I assumed was a shrug, which didn't really work with his hands tied behind his back.
"That must be hard, having your hands shackled," I said, deciding to sit back down. The white-skinned man got awkwardly to his feet, and walked over to sit closer to me on the ground, but not close enough to earn my or the guard’s ire. "Well, it does make pleasuring myself a pain, so to speak. And wiping my ass- forget about it. The unfunny guard won't help either, so...probably best not to touch anything in this room." I cringed.
“I suppose it’s a downgrade in accommodation compared to your old hideout,” I said, very eager to change topics. And potentially find out something actually useful.
He didn’t bite. With a smarmy little smile he said, “No, Misora, I don’t think you’ll be getting any information out of me today.”
"Fine,” I say dismissively. “I’ll leave then.”
“Did I say today? I meant, from that question.” It was hard to tell his genuine-ness. Had he ever been genuine in his life? Regardless, my statement had been an empty threat. I was still here to try.
“So, besides…the things you’re already mentioned...what do you do all day?" I asked.
"I already told you - planning my escape."
"All day?" I raised my eyebrows.
Ryuzaki rolled his eyes. "Well it isn't like I've got my knitting here with me."
I imagined him knitting. The image was a scarf...that turned into a noose. "Maybe that's a good thing."
"But enough about me - let's talk about your life. How's the macho man you call sweetie?"
I pursed my lips. He did not deserve to know anything about my life. "He's fine."
"Trouble in paradise," He flashed his teeth. "I could give you some pointers... Or I could come up with an escape plan for you too. We could run away together. I heard Mexico is lovely this time of year."
"I don't need your advice. Things are great with Raye. I've never been happier.”
Even I could smell the obvious lie in my voice. Maybe it was time to admit to myself that interrogations were not my strong suit. Ryuzaki was shaking his head before I’d finished my sentence. “Really? I’ve never heard you say a positive thing about him. Why are you with that brick wall, eh? Does he makes you feel...safe." He suddenly got to his feet and fully faced me. "But you don't want safety. You're a cop — an adrenaline junkie. You want to feel your heart pumping as if it'll never pump again." He took one step, leaned closer to me, his eyes alive. "You want to feel the adrenaline surging through your veins like acid. You want to have sweat pouring off your skin, breathing heavy and ragged, revelling in how alive you feel."
I laughed awkwardly, and shifted my chair away from him. "Your descriptive skills are more impressive than your perception skills."
"That’s got to be a dozen lies today, Misora. Tsk tsk."
"You’re a liar too,” I said.
He widened his eyes. “When?”
“You lied to me at the start of the case. You never told me you were the locked door murderer," I retorted.
"You never asked."
I exhaled. This was the end of my rope. "It's time for me to go."
He didn't say a word, but came up to the door, and rested his forehead against the bars.
“I have a clue for you,” he said. Then he rotated a bit and manoeuvred his left wrist so I could see it. It looked like there was tiny writing on it. I squinted, and leaned closer. Sur-
Suddenly Ryuzaki head butted me through the bars. I yelped in pain and went to the ground. Ryuzaki also dropped to his seat, and his feet were through the bars. He wrapped them around my head and pulled me close. His feet caressed the back of my head, and he hissed at me, “Soon you’ll know how helpful you’ve been.”
I closed my eyes... then I scratched hard at the feet, drawing blood and a yell from Ryuzaki. He scooched to the back of his cell, like a started cat, and stared at me.
The guard rushed over, his gun trained on Ryuzaki's messily-haired head.
"What happened?" he guard asked. I glared down at my assailant, still catching my breath. He moaned a bit as he got back onto his feet, but when he looked at me, his face was cocky. "Still like feeling safe?"
"Miss?"
I turned to the guard. "He lunged at me. I took him down. I’m fine."
Then I shifted by attention back to Ryuzaki, who looked back at me with such an intimate stare, I felt naked.
“I’m sorry for the disturbance,” I said to the guard, “I’ll be leaving now.”
"Can't wait to see you again, Misora.” Ryuzaki said. “Next time we can really get to the bottom of the issues with your love life.”
He came right up to the bars again, which were wide enough that he could fit his face through. I really should have noticed that earlier.
“You’re not Hannibal Lecter, stop psychoanalysing me,” I said briefly.
"If I was, you’d be my Clarice, and I’d help you solve cases and eat anyone who offended you,” he said.
“Goodbye,” I said, and started to walk away.
“I’ll miss you,” he said in the most sincere voice I’d ever heard from him.
I had to stop. I had to turn around and look back at him. Even the guard was giving him a strange look. “What?”
"I’ll miss you. I know you’re going away for a while and it’s a shame. Seeing you is the best part of my day," he said simply.
My head flooded with thoughts. Going away? Was this a threat? Was he planning to break out and kill me? What did he mean by ‘for a while’? He was going to jail in mere days. Unless he did have an escape plan figured out. I should warn the guard. My eyes went to him, and then to Ryuzaki. Ryuzaki raised an eyebrow. If I said he had a plan, he’d tell the guard that I was here without orders. Besides, I had no proof of a plan. There may not be one at all. It could all be a smokescreen of paranoia.
And so I turned and left, still feeling his capricious eyes burning into the back of my head even after I left the building.