Chapter 152: Contradictory Fantasies (1/2)

I felt a coldness grip my heart. I scrutinized her expression carefully and was stumped for words. She couldn't recognize me. She ruined me and turned me into a monster and she didn't remember me.

And I wasn't going to let her see who I was.

”Sebastian's fiancé, but I suppose he didn't tell you that, did he?” I retorted. ”My name is unimportant because we will never meet again. And I don't want to be in your filthy mind.” I kept my tone cool and composed.

Alicia's eyes widened.

”Now start speaking,” I forced.

”So, this is the kind of woman he likes. A complete stuck-up bitch,” she seethed. I could see the pure hatred in her eyes.

”What? Are you going to poke my pretty little butt?” I asked, a hint of amusement in my voice as I quoted the first words she had directly said to me. I carefully watched for recognition but it never came.

The words she threw out carelessly had made a deep impact on me.

”I could try if you unlock my cuffs,” she boasted.

I started laughing. To my surprise, it wasn't hysterical. But it was humorless. ”Do you think you are cuffed down for my safety? You're nothing but a pathetic convict living a lonely life in a high-security jail. You don't even have the strength to get close to me.” I looked at her hands. ”If you pounced on me, I would incapacitate you and make sure you couldn't use for hands for a few weeks,” I told her emotionlessly.

”Is the police now coercing people?” she asked. She jerked her hands against the binds and my eyes flickered to her resistance.

”You are not a person, though,” I told her. ”No one thinks of you as a person. But it would have been a lot better if you hadn't lied time and time again,” I insinuated.

”I never lied,” she gritted out through her teeth.

I hummed in acknowledgment, making it sure she knew I didn't believe her.

”I never lied,” she repeated, putting more force into her words this time.

”Okay, then. Let's revisit every scene you were at.” I flipped open my notebook.

”When did you first start having aggressive and obsessive thoughts?” I asked.

This surprised her.

”Since I was a child. I was fascinated by the many ways people could die. I wanted to explore what happens to the body as it slowly dies and then I wanted to know what happens to it after it dies. What was available on the television was only so much. The internet had some fascinating content but it wasn't enough.” She shrugged.

”And how did you start to explore the changes in the body as the cells deteriorated?” I was phrasing it very carefully. I wasn't accusing her of killing. I just wanted to know the progression of her psyche to find out when the accomplice had found her and approached her.

”I was made to volunteer at shelters by members of my family… because I was trouble in their eyes and I saw people from all walks of life there… I was… sixteen then?” she thought back to the time.

”And that didn't quench your thirst?” I enquired.

She shook her head. ”I was happy with it for a while and then…” she stopped and looked at me with a calculative expression.

”What are you trying to make me say?” she hissed.

”I am not trying to make you say anything. I am asking you simple questions which you need to answer truthfully.”

She scoffed. ”Why should I answer? I don't get anything from this conversation. You need the information for something and I won't get anything in return.”

Bargaining. Good, we had progressed from denial then.

”Because someone did you dirty and got away with the same crime you committed. And you are a stupid woman who is protecting someone who doesn't give a fuck about you. They haven't even come to visit you in seven years!” I smirked.

”Who said that?” she countered. ”Just because you didn't see it doesn't mean I didn't get visitors,” she responded. And then she quietened down, knowing what she had just said.

”Good, you are not being stupid any longer.” Taunting really worked on this woman. ”Now, let's go back. What happened that made you want to kill people?” I questioned. ”You wanted to see bodies decompose and learn, then why did you preserve the meat and eat it? Isn't that contradictory?” I questioned.

I saw her press her lips together.

”Something must have changed. You don't look like a nail biter,” I commented as I looked at her nail beds. Perfectly groomed nails despite being in prison. She took care of it. ”I would understand if you saw someone bite their nail and skin and wondered what it tasted like… but why go that far?”