Chapter 6

Matteo Rodriguez

I KNOW THINGS I don't want to know.

Things that doesn't faze me anymore since I was six.

Things that doesn't even scare me after it happened right in front of me.

Things about different killers that I really don't want to know.

A true psychopathic killer is not your ordinary garden-variety murderer. Not like a random guy who unloads his gun into a scared hapless liquor store clerk. Not like an insecure wife who murders her husband in cold-blood over a real or imagined affair. Not like a jealous man who bursts into his boss's office and blows his little head off.

Real psychopaths aren't motivated by love, fear or hatred. They don't feel those sorts of emotions. The only thing they face in that moment of their killing is just pure rage and vengeance.

They don't feel anything at all. Trust me on that one.

Dr. Harold , Dahmer, Wayne Gacy, Amardeep Sada, and other twisted-killers were detached and different, driven by different sexual pleasure and the thrill to kill. If you think you will see remorse or you saw remorse 

in one of their eyes when they confessed their kiling, it was in your own mind.

From my experience, what distinguishes psychopaths from other killers is that they don't give a fuck. They don't care. Not about their victims lives or deaths.

They can pretend to care but they really don't. They can mimic human emotions or feelings to lure their victims and prey-closer and closer. If they've had their kill, it's on to the next thrill, with no hold backs, no barriers, no boundaries.

I had my self-delusion to support and an expense account to justify, so I bulled my way into the black heart of a vile and compelling crime spree. I've always known and I've always been ready so I've known that not by my own devising I'd become part of the story and now I see it, I've been selected by a profoundly psychotic killer with a cherished self-delusion 8f her own.

Arianna is a skillful, elusive, and as most would say, a first-rate monster.

That was what was crossing my mind as I stare at the lifeless body in the corner of the room I was chained to. She's a motherfucking psycho!

There was a pool of blood around the body and his eyes 

were two gaping holes staring at me in anguish. It was like she drew various shapes around his body, letting his intestines and organs spill out of him from different open places, letting me know that the kill was recent, maybe the day before I was brought here. The person's scalp has been torn open leaving me to see his mushy brains.

His mouth was still hung open in a scream with some of his tooth missing.

A work of art.

The body was meant to be moved but I guess she left it there giving me a message of things she can do. Things she can do to me. I roll my shoulder back, hearing the crack of my neck and cursing at the chains for causing any further movement.

Hearing the buzz and click of the door, I smirk when I see her enter the cell. This is her first appearance to me ever since I woke up hours ago and must I say I'm impressed.

She's really pretty, I'd give her that but I know behind those playful eyes lies an evil huntress.

"Good morning Mr Teo-oh sorry, you can't know because there isn't any window or anything here." She comment, laughing humorlessly and I just raise an eyebrow at her bored.

"Oh-be more free Teo, you wouldn't want to die 

without laughing." She says tapping my shoulder. 

"It's Mateo you bitch!" I glare at her and she just twirls around me playfully, trailing her fingers over my body sexually.

Yep, it's official, she's definitely crazy.

"Why were you following me Mateo?" She asks, all traces of playfulness gone from her face replaced with a really scary look.

Oh, straight to business.

"Because I felt like."

"Hmm." She twirls her hair in her index finger looking at me like I'm a puzzle she can't wrap her head against. Same goes for me.

"I heard you're accused of murder, and you think you can still catch me with that reputation?" She asks, grinning when she sees my reaction and I frown. Words sure do go around fast in the underworld.

"That doesn't mean I can't still kill you." I reply smugly. This is a game she was sure she'd win but I'm different and I can't wait to see the end of who's going to win-me or her? 

"Who do you work for?" She questions grabbing garbage nylon and I sigh already knowing what was coming next.

"No one. I go solo." My response seemed to tick her off so she placed the nylon over my head and asked again.

"Who the fuck do you work for?!"

I gave her my silence knowing that'd anger her more but I wasn't ready for what happened next.

Bucket after bucket, she poured it over my head making it difficult to breathe, asking the question repeatedly and I just stayed mute-no screams, no groans, no anything.

I seize my breath and wait for her torture to come to an end. I've faced all sorts of pain and this is definitely child's play. I've faced more-more pain-that my body was always used to all sort of pain.

I was buried alive when I was seven-left to find a way out for myself-left to claw my way out of the dirt. I was pushed into a tank filled with water at ten with no knowledge of how to swim, I was almost burnt alive at thirteen because I slept on a bed instead of the floor. My body doesn't respond to pain anymore and what's she's doing is nothing to me.

When she got tired of her 'torture', my eyes open and I peer at her showing her I'm not afraid of any pain she brings my way.

She pulls out a blade from her suit jacket and I just smirk which made her nose flare in anger.

She's so hot when she's mad.

Bring it on!

She comes closer, running her hand over my biceps letting goosebumps appear all over my body as my dick strains in my pants. oh god, this is so embarrassing. "Teo, Teo, Teo. Don't be so naughty and tell me all I want to know."

"I don't want to!" I reply calmy. Too calmy for a situation like this. She wasn't happy with my response because she traced the blade over my chest, leaving tiny stinging lines all over my chest.

"Can I tell you something?" She asks stopping at my collarbone. I was taller than her but she had most authority now. We'd definitely see how the tables turn.

"I don't like people not responding when I ask for something. If they do that, I hurt them and if I get angry, I'd kill them."

I throw my head back in laughter and she stills, 

stopping the movement of the blade over my body letting blood drip from the line before ignoring my twisted laughter. There was nothing funny or interesting about this and my laughter was filled with anger, frustration and darkness.

I wince as she continue to slice her blade over my chest, repeating the motion as blood spill out of the cuts.

"Tell me what I want to know! Who fucking sent you?!"

My answer is still negative and I see the rage burn in her eyes, I could feel her anger radiate from her as she shows mercy in hurting my body-knowing she was almost killed by me.

She moves back to admire her art. Different lines and cuts decorates my chest and I wince as my sweat drip into the cuts.

"Will you talk now?" She asks coming close as her breath fans my face and I take in her scent. nice.

"No. I told you I go solo." She didn't see my movement coming and I hit my forehead to hers breaking her glasses in the process and the momentum pushes her back a little. 

Other guards rush forward on instinct, pointing their guns at my head and I just smile despite how easily I could weep, shinning my bloodied teeth to them as she tells them to back off.

"Those were my fucking favorite." She exclaims as she examines the broken glasses in frustration.

When she turns to look at me with a slight cut on her forehead, I knew I just unleashed the huntress in her. Her fist collides with my head throwing me off balance and letting the chains dig into my wrist.

Her other fist comes up at my jaw and she growls when I don't let out any sound or reaction throwing an harder fist square into my nose making it drip with blood.

She flexes her fingers eyeing me in distaste and I just spit out blood close to her foot.

"Disgusting pig!" She seethes pressing her fingers into the cuts on my chest and I growl, baring my teeth at her as she taunts me. I'm all animal on her, daring her to let me go so I'd show what I'm really made off.

She shakes her head in disappointment walking away from me. "Boys, he's all yours. But don't hurt him to much. Byeee." She waves at me, winking and blowing kisses to me while I tug at the chain like a fucking wild animal. 

Blows and hits came down on me as the guards torture me all of them showing their anger that I'm showing no response or pain.

I smirk as they hit me knowing they're just making it easy to escape as my eyes peer at the screws that were holding my chains.

About time before it falls off.

Like I said, I know a psychotic killer when I see one, because I'M ONE.