Happpiness & Homicide: The Other Side

 I look through the small plexiglass window of my prison and offer the two men a bright, cheery smile. “That’s him? That’s the man that we’ve come to interview? He looks so happy.” “He’s dangerous, Philip. He’s cheerful and appears non-threatening, but he’s absolutely lethal. He’s been convicted of 30 homicides and is suspected in over 3 dozen more. And I’m just talking about England here. We know that he spent time in Scotland, Northern Ireland, Germany, Canada, Sweden and the United States, so we’re also being forced to check there as well.”  The shorter man lets out a low whistle. “You never know, do you, Tom?” “You sure don’t.” “Do we have an estimated body count on him for these other territories? I’m meaning the ones outside England.” “I’m guessing anywhere from 100-120 bodies.” Philip turns and stares through the glass at me. I smile once again, but this time I also raise a hand in greeting. “Will he talk to me?” Tom straightens his tie. “I think so. He loves to talk. He’s in that room all the time, so he’s always looking for someone to talk to. He’s always craving human simulation, but we’re not about to give it to him. He got into an inmate scuffle and using a homemade shiv, cut out half of the man’s kidney before we could get in there with riot gear.” He stops for a minute to look at his partner.  “He’s got a shower, small personal gym and mini library.” “He gets special treatment here, why? If anyone else had attacked another inmate, he’d get more time added to his sentence and would probably be placed in solitary…which he is?” ” “He’s an important asset. He has the insight that we lack and so desperately need. He makes simple requests in exchange for information and we’re happy to comply.” 

I hide beside the door, just out of sight before Philip and Tom make it to my door. “Wil? Are you in there?” “Of course he’s fucking in there! He’s got nowhere else to go! There are bars over those windows and unless he’s a shape-shifter, he’s not gotten out!” Philip raps on the door, but it’s Tom who speaks once again. “Now’s not the time to be playing games! We’ve got some questions for you.” “What’s in it for meeee?” I ask in a sing-song voice. “Well, what do you want? Do you want a woman or something?” I hear Tom smack Philip. “We can’t let a woman into that room with him! You’ve seen what he’s done to some of them! What do you want?” I’m thoughtful for a moment. “I want a mint milkshake. I want it to be green, not white, whipped cream on top. Make it sugar-free, all of it, BUT with real sprinkles, the rainbow kind.” “Do you want a cherry on top of that?” “Do you want to get smacked in the fuckin’ face?” Tom’s face appears in the window. “You really should shave that, you know. It’s really unbecoming. It looks like goat hair of some sort, maybe yak hair?” Philip snickers. “What? He’s funny!” “He’s also a murder.” “Why can’t I be both?” Now both sets of eyes are on me. “I guess you can be?” His voice falters. “Right you are, Philly.” “It’s Philip.” Now it’s my turn to press my face to the glass once again. “Oh, I know who you are, trouble is, you don’t know who I am.” I pause, letting my words soak into him. “So, are you guys going to come in or not?” “What about your milkshake?” “Send word for it Tom, let me talk to little Philly alone.” “I won’t let that happen!” “It’s either him or no talk.” Tom’s face sinks in, his beard livid with rage. “Fine, I will go get your milkshake, but this doesn’t make me your fucking man slave!” He turns on his heal and huffs down the corridor. “No, this makes you milk maid!!” I holler at him through the door and turn my eyes on Phil.  “Are you going to come in or not?”

....

“You’re asking me about my experiences, but more directly and also importantly, my feelings. And to pinpoint that further, my feelings during the actions in which you are acquiring about.  I know you’ve asked this of other individuals like me, yes I say people because as much as you want to reject the idea that we are human or bare any resemblance to you ‘normal’ folk, we are just like you. We’re more intend to our inner monologues, our thoughts, our pleasures, our ideas, our emotions. We simply regulate and feel in a different way to you is all. Now, ask yourself the same question that you asked me. ‘Why would someone do something like this?’ Tap into those emotions that you feel so deeply, you know that ones I'm talking about.  The ones that whisper in the background of your mind.  You know its that social need, the ‘right’ thing to suppress.” I stop and breathe deeply. “It’s funny, really. I guess, after all, I am and all the people like me are possibly more human than yourselves. You want to solve these crimes as you call them, define these actions, yet you’re unwilling to use your own insight to look inside yourselves. I think if you did that, you’d have to spend less time annoying me.” 

Tom leans across the table, attempting to stare me down. “Did you just say we’re something like you?” I light a cigarette and have a slurp on my milkshake. "This is fucking good." I take another sip and a drag before continuing on. “Personality-wise, of course not. Few possess the trait combination I have and personalities are a complete buffet if you will, a wonderful bounty of flavours, experience, smell and colours. What I’m saying is you have the capacity to do what I do. Every human does. It’s more than just neurochemical and psychosocial situations that make us who we are, Tom. It’s in our nature. And there we are begging that eternal question, ‘Just what is the nature of man? Is he good or is he evil?’ And what even defines good and evil anyway? Everyone has their own sense of what is right and wrong, then, of course, you have the mass collective sense of what is right or wrong.” 

Tom keeps his eyes on me, body rigid as he listens. Philip takes a more calm approach to me, he seems almost relaxed in his seat. I ash my cigarette and return my attention to the drink. I suck on it hard, twirling the straw in my tongue. I know Tom is anally heterosexual and he'll take this simple act of playing as something homosexual, which will only upset him further. I love fucking with people like him.“It’s clear what’s good and evil and you Wil, are evil.” “Is the a fact?”

“It’s written right here in this dossier on you. What’s you’ve done!” “But does that make me evil? I can’t argue that by most standards the actions in which I engaged in were evil in nature, thought and action, but does that really make ME evil? Can a man wholly be defined by his actions? A certain set of actions? What about my other intentions? My thoughts and actions of other natures? Are you looking to judge me on just a few things that I’ve done?” Tom’s mouth hangs open, but no sound comes out. Instead, it's Philip that speaks. “You make a compelling argument. I suppose we can’t judge you entirely on just some of your actions. We don’t even know how many people you’ve murdered.”I light another cigarette, inhale deeply and allow the smoke to curl out of my nostrils. “And that reminds to be seen.” “Don’t you want to tell us?” “No. Where would the fun be in that?” Before Philip can say anything else Tom cuts him off. “Is this some sort of fucking game to you?” “A fucking game? No. A game of wits and a series of challenging puzzles? Yes.” I put out my cigarette.