not there? I can’t feel those things, and you can hate me for it, find me repulsive, disgusting, but that’s just the way I am. I can’t change it, and you can’t change it either.”
“You don’t feel guilty, or regretful about any of your victims?”
“No. That part of my brain doesn’t work.”
“You don’t know that for sure. Those feelings could be there, but repressed by bad experiences, bad memories—”
Romeo shook his head, then leaned forward, willing her to stare into his eyes. “I’ve got low functioning emotions, and in the case of some, I don’t have them at all.”
“You say you don’t have guilt or remorse, what about anger?”
“What about it?”
“Have you ever felt angry before?”
Romeo looked away, and really thought about it. There were two times in his life when he felt the bitter build-up of anger in his gut. Once when the magpie refused to leave him, and the other when Chad chased him into the trees near Audrey’s home.
“Yes.”
“Are you angry that you failed?”
“More disappointed.”
Holly nodded, noting something else down.
“And how do you feel when Chad visits you?”
A shit load of emotions he couldn’t label or understand, but top of the list after their last visit was concern. He was concerned for Chad, and the past few days had felt longer, and duller, and more brain crushingly boring than usual. He needed it to be Wednesday, he needed to see Chad.
Sometimes he hated Chad for unlocking emotions in him when he didn’t know how to handle them. They weren’t supposed to be there at all. It was damn irresponsible of Chad to detonate a barrel of feelings then just leave him to it.
“He mocks you the other side of the barrier.”
“Mocks me?”
Holly nodded. “The man that should’ve been your number one, sits where I’m sitting now, alive. No mark on his neck, no burned number in his chest. He’s your failure, and it’s never nice to fail, never nice to be constantly reminded of it.”
“You’re right, it’s never nice to fail.”
“Then why accept his visits?”
She’d never understand him and Chad, Romeo didn’t want her to.
“The same reason I accept these ones, to help with the boredom.”
“Do you wish the glass wasn’t between you and Chad?”
“Of course, I do.”
“So you could finally finish what you started?”
Romeo didn’t comment. He glared at Holly until she looked away.
“I don’t want to talk about Chad.”
“It’s hard talking about failure. I understand.”
Romeo snorted, shaking his head. She really didn’t, but she thought she did. Holly wrote something else, then hid the piece of paper beneath another one.
“Is this article almost done?” Romeo asked.
“I’m on the final touches. We’ve gone through your neglectful family, the bullying at school, then in the workplace. The sudden desire to kill after an argument with your old boss. The countdown, the murders. I just need an interesting end. I’m not happy with it.”
“Say I ended up in here.”
“Yeah, but the readers will already know that. That’s the physical ending of your spree, but I want a more reflective ending for my readers.”
“You want me to sit here and say I’m sorry. That I think about the murders every day, that I wished I’d handled myself differently, got help…dealt with the issues in my head, not brought them with me.”
Holly licked her lips, then shot him a cautious smile. “Yeah.”
“Write the truth. I was born a monster, and I’ll die a monster.”
“No,” Holly said, searching through her notes. “We established this was nurture, not nature.”
Romeo shook his head.
“This all could’ve been avoidable.” Holly’s eyes were wide, pleading. “This was a catalogue of negative experiences, that led to this point. That set you on this path. It could’ve been avoided, maybe with some love and understanding … the right person by your side, fighting in your corner.”
She leaned forward in her chair, getting as close to the barrier between them as she could. “I see you, the real you. The neglected boy, the bullied youth, the worn-down worker. All of it built up, you had no channel for it, no outlet.”
Sometimes, Romeo wished he hadn’t lied. It had been entertaining stringing Holly a story, seeing the cogs behind her eyes turn as she sought justification for what he’d done, watching her put her psychology degree into effect, but when she started looking at him with round eyes, subtly nodding, needing Romeo to agree with her theories, it irritated him.
It was time to reveal the truth, or at least part of it.
“You’re wrong. I killed because I wanted to, because