Autopsy of a Mind

Chapter 152: Contradictory Fantasies

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 fianc, 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?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. 

"Come on, tell me. I know you like being portrayed as a soulless monster, but don't let them think you are soulless and dumb. You need to have a good reason for doing it. Something poetic to fit your angelic appearance." I taunted and coaxed. She looked hesitant before she huffed. 

"I saw someone eat human flesh and I got curious. I was a teenager then," she said finally.

"Cannibalism is illegal. Come on, tell me. Who was it?" I leaned in and pressed. 

"No one, okay?" she countered, getting agitated. 

"Ah, so it was him. The man you love. You saw him eat something taboo and you wanted to show off to him. You wanted to show him that you were perfect for him and that you shared all his hobbies and likes." I analyzed and carefully watched as a sliver of fear radiated from her body. It spread across her and I knew I was spot on. 

"He was polished, from a good family, charming despite how ordinary he looked," I prompted. I saw her become enraged and knew what to say next. "But he wasn't ordinary. He knew what murder looked like. He wanted to see bodies contort to his will. He liked eating human flesh and you found yourself pulled to him. So, to impress him, you started to kill, didn't you?"

"Stop," she growled. 

"What? You were no good at it, were you?" I remembered the estimated first murder that had happened. 

"I don't know what you mean." Well, she could act like she didn't understand but I knew I was on the right track. 

"Your first victim By your own admission, she was an elderly woman, right?"

She huffed. She was happy that the questioning had shifted from the accomplice to her own crimes. 

"Yes, she lived in the neighborhood. She needed someone to help her with her pets so I volunteered." Her voice was dispassionate again. "I remember stabbing her multiple times to kill her. I took a pound of flesh and brought it back with me, too." She nodded. 

At least she remembered her first victim.

"Why stab her? Her cells were deteriorating and after her death, you could have watched how she decomposed. She was living alone with no one to ask about her," I prompted. 

"I did leave her. I visited her often to see what happened to her body." Her eyes glowed with fascination. But then I caught it.

"Why did you bury her then?" I asked. 

"Because people noticed her missing and I didn't want to get caught." Lies. 

"What part of her did you take?" I asked. 

"I took the skin near her wrist," she muttered. 

"Considering it was your first kill, you chose the easiest location and the smallest one. Why the skin?" I asked. 

I had to make her speak. "Were you dissatisfied? Was he dissatisfied?" 

Alicia frowned. "It was nothing special." This meant she got scolded and decided she had been reckless to impress him and made a huge mistake. He helped her bury the first victim.

"Let's go to the second spree. Who did you take?" I asked. 

She thought about it and nodded. "It was a group of boys. Two of them. Roommates who were inseparable. Stalked them for a while before I took them."

"How did you take them?" I questioned. 

"I entered the apartment they shared, using the key under their doormat. I unlocked the door and got inside. I found them watching television and punched them until they lost consciousness before dragging them out," she shrugged. 

I remembered the details of the disappearance and nodded. 

"They were watching television both awake. You entered and started punching both of them at the same time?" I asked. 

He paused. "I punched one before going to the other," she rephrased. 

"How did the other person remain stationary?" I asked. 

I was abashed that no one had really asked these questions in detail. I was sure Sebastian had but had her story changed? Maybe it was more believable that time?