Lovely Little Psychopath

Lilly, a cute delicate little name for a girl that isn't so cute and delicate.
She wouldn't have a problem slipping poison into your morning coffee just to watch you writher on the floor in agony, or cutting your breaks and watching you run through a stop light and hit a fire hydrant. Lilly doesn't seem much like a cute little girl anymore, does she?

But, this is a book about a Psychopath, so what did you really expect?


4. Confrontation

He had only replied with a small coy smile which she took as a "most definitely" and had quickly averted his eyes as a guard approached to pull out the two cholos that had wet their pants, well as least she assumed they had, they had the sort of look a man took on when he was ashamed of himself for something like that.

She sat there staring at the wall listening to what soon became the repetitive noise of the bars opening and closing on the cell beside her, as people came and went. She was not the least bit phased by this noise, until she heard a familiar voice as the iron bars slid open yet again.

"I'll be waiting on the outside." He called to her, but she did not turn, or give any utterance of understanding the words that had just left his mouth, rather choosing to ignore the words and continue with her staring at the wall as the bars met once again and the cell slammed shut. She could hear the low muttering of the males behind her, but she paid them no mind, rather, out of the corner of her eye, looked for weaknesses in the defense that had been built around her. Anyone looking at her never would've noticed the small smile that grazed her lips as she realized their greatest mistake.

It was approaching midnight, on a Tuesday, in a small-(ish) town, there were a total of three officers, all of which she could easily take down. She cleared her throat and turned to face the man standing outside of the male cell.

"Excuse me." She whispered in the softest, most innocent voice she could muster. The man turned to her, and his blue eyes seemed to bore into her soul and examine every aspect, not liking what he saw. It didn't matter to her if he liked it, he was still going to die.

"Yes?" he asked, in an annoyed, yet polite, fashion, that, along with his voice, reminded her ever so slightly of her father. If she had not been certain before, she was now most definitely set on ridding humanity of this man that she deemed evil.

"I- um, I was thirsty, I was wondering if I could have some water," she uttered quietly, down casting her eyes, knowing that men like this needed to feel as in control, and unthreatened as possible before they were of any use to her or her plans.

He sighed heavily and moved from his post by a foot and tossed her a half empty bottle of water. It sailed neatly through the iron bars and she recoiled with a squeak as it came to close to her. She heard the man chuckled and turned to pick up the bottle, cursing silently. She had meant for him to bring the bottle to her.

"Thank you," she murmured, though she was not truly thankful. All she wanted to do was kill the snickering man, but she had to bide her time, and she knew that, she was becoming impatient though, as she turned, after stooping to retrieve the water bottle and found him ogling her. Men. She thought disdainfully as she opened the water bottle and tilted some of it's contents into it without touching it to her lips, afraid of disease.

"Don't get used to it," was his stern reply as he resumed his post just out of reach of bars of the male cell.

She wished that he would guard her cell, knowing that with time she'd manage to get him far enough back from his post that she could grab him. She sighed and went back to the blank wall, her mental drawing board, and continued her thoughts. She was halfway through an elaborated setup when the doors to her cell opened, unbeknownst to her, and a man was standing there, watching her casually, arms crossed over his chest as he studied her behind the wire frames of his rectangular glasses, gray hair slicked back in a way that was nearly unbecoming, but still worked with his aging, but not aged, face.

"Lilly?" He asked, still watching her with intent.

"Yes." She smiled cheerily, wishing that for once a woman would come to speak to her. Women were to much harder to hate. She most definitely already hated this man.

"Come with me," he commanded her, turning and walking towards the long hallway that lead to the interrogation rooms. She sighed and stood, following in his footsteps, and soon came to the only open door in the whole wing. She entered willingly, but had already decided that if he gave her any trouble that she was going to kill this man. It wouldn't be the slow agonizing bursts of torture that she usually preferred, but it would be enough.

She entered the room to see that the police had spared no expense for their little excursion. There was a man in both corners of the room flanking the sitting man. There was a mirror, that she was sure was actually a one-way window, and she saw the same look of absence on her face that she always saw when she looked in a mirror. She pushed her hair back behind her ear and blinked, once, twice, before taking a seat in front of the gray haired man. She met his unfeeling stare with one of her own.

He made eye contact, and kept it for several minutes, his expression not changing, exactly the way hers was, like their faces were forever frozen on life's canvas.

"Lilly," He said after several minutes of silence, leaning onto the table slightly, moving closer to where she sat erectly.

"Whoever you are." She replied with a small wry smile as he stared at her intently. She would enjoy killing these three men.

"Dr. Green, but you may call me Doctor." He assured her.

"Well, Doctor, I'm not sick, so what do you want?" She asked him, disdain only in the way she said "Doctor" belittling the man before her as not good enough to be a doctor of any sort.

"On the contrary dear Lilly, I believe that you are, in fact, very very sick, but I'm here to make you better." He said without an emotion on is lined aging face.

"So... you're going to kill all the men in the world for me." She asked him, working sarcasm, which she rarely used, into her tone.

"On the contrary, I'm going to make it so you no longer feel the need to kill." He stated blankly.

"You like that phrase, 'On the contrary'. It's annoying. As is your face. Would it kill you to have some compassion for a rape victim, because it may certainly kill you not to." She smiled sweetly, a smile that was obvious to all as fake.

"Is that a threat, Lillian?" He challenged her, putting his elbows on the table and touching the tips of his finger together at eyelevel, watching her around their converging point.

"Not at all Doctor, simply a fact. Any man who has no sympathy for a victim of rape is obviously dead inside." She smiled coyly, her eyes never once leaving the doctor's, looking for any sign of nervousness.

"I have no sympathy for a murder, rape victim or not. There are plenty of women who are raped and are strong enough to go through therapy and overcome the trauma. You didn't even try to get over it, just started killing." He tilted his head, gauging her expression.

Her eye twitched. He had just called her weak.

"Doctor." She murmured murderously. "If you knew anything about me you'd know exactly how wrong you are. You see, therapy works for some, maybe even for many, but your form of therapy isn't what I need. What I need is cold hard proof that a man will never again be able to lay his hand on me without my say so. Think of my victims as therapy sessions, Doctor. Maybe then you'll understand, if I use all of your proper terms. Have you talked to the Detective?" She asked him, tilting her head so that her eyes were exactly in line with his tilted head as she studied his expression.

(A/N) Did I give the detective a name yet? I've been skimming over the other chapters and I can't find it, but maybe I missed it.

"I have," he nodded, righting his head. She righted hers as well, knowing that eventually the mirroring, along with her general annoyingness, would break this man.

"So you know then, why I kill, and yet you call me weak. Your chosen line of work would more than likely reveal me as a psychopath, so why treat me as though I am a common killer?" She questioned him, pushing him off of his surefooted ground.

He leaned forwards and put his hands down onto the table. "Because I don't think you're really crazy. You think too much, you're too good at what you do. I think you're lying about spontaneous killings. There are never any witnesses, never any prints, never any evidence, the only thing we have linking you to anything is your phone number constantly calling the tip line. You might be stupid, but I don't think you're crazy. A crazy person is not that meticulous."

For a moment she felt her face heat with anger, and then, she saw the ghost of a smile appearing on the doctors face and she smiled too, catching onto his little game.

"I see I am not the only one who is fond of manipulation, good doctor." She smiled coyly, leaning forward so their face were now only a foot apart. "But I assure you, I am much... much better." She leaned back and shook her head at his obviousness. "You almost had me Doctor, but that little smile gave you away at the end. And you were so close." She said with fake remorse for his failure. She laughed and threw her head back as the melodious sound left her throat.

"Wanna know a secret Doc?" She asked him, leaning forward again. "I don't think I'm crazy either. If you had gone through half of the things I had maybe you would understand, but you haven't, so in my eyes Doctor, you, with all of your contemplative looks and unforgiving eyes, are the crazy one." She smirked as he stared dumbfounded at being caught in his web of lies by a bigger ever more cunning spider. He was the brown recluse, and she was a black widow, both of them were deadly, poisonous, able to kill, but she was by far the more dangerous of the two of them.

The door opened and banged against the wall as an angry Detective __________ stormed in. He was red faced and furious, and held a Tupperware box of cookies in one hand. She tilted her head to the side, realizing he had actually kept his promise.

"Who the hell gave you clearance to speak with her you raging lunatic!?" The detective shouted at the not-so-good doctor.

"Chief." He said with a small shrug.

"Bullshit!" He yelled, at him. "Complete and utter bullshit. Do you know what sort of panic went up when one of the guards looked up and she wasn't in her cell!? You crazy bastard!" He yelled at the Doctor. Wow. She thought. She had never seen a man so angry before. It was entertaining. His accent was very prominent, and she smiled as she watched the vein in his neck throb, almost as though it was inviting her to slice it open.

"Come on Lilly." The detective said, jerking his head towards the door, his eyes never leaving Dr. Greens. She giggled and stood enjoying the little display. She walked towards the door, and glanced back at the doctor right before she exited.

"I enjoyed our little chat Doctor. Perhaps we'll meet again sometimes, outside of these walls that protect you and your cowardice so very well." She laughed and exited the room, a steaming detective following not far behind, escorting her back to her cell.

"I'm sorry about that. He has a few degrees and thinks he knows better than everyone." Detective __________ snarled, obviously discontented with the Doctors behavior.

"Oh it's quite alright. I did more damage to him than he did to me. He'll have nightmares for weeks, I'm sure." She smirked, turning back to look into the detectives _________eyes.

(A/N) I should really write down all of these important details, shouldn't I? Anyone know If I've said what color his eyes are yet?

"And why is that?" He asked a smirk of his own on his stubble ridden face.

"He is probably afraid of me." She shrugged, face front again as he lead her back to her cell. "I figured out his little mind game and his face melted." She smirked as he locked her back in her cell. He gave her the Tupperware container and she smiled gratefully.

"Serves him right, I already told the chief that all other people that you interact with besides me are to be females, to make you more comfortable."

"That's too kind of you." She smiled. She set the container on the bench she was sitting on and went to pick up the water bottle that had been thrown to her before. "If you would be so kind as to throw that away. I have no idea where it came from, and it was half empty when the very rude guard threw it to me, but I was practically dying of thirst." She told him, handing him the nearly empty bottle.

He took it from her and nodded, sending a glare at the guard who looked sheepish, his face red with embarrassment beneath the unsatisfied glare of his superior.

"Johnson, you're off duty for the night, take a hike." He told the cop who hung his head and walked off.

When she looked over she realized that there was only one person in the cell beside her, and he was sleeping.

"When will I be let out?" She asked, right before the detective walked away.

"I'm trying to get it arranged, just sit tight for now, alright." He assured her before walking off.

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