Whiskey and Blood

“I’m not sure what to make of him,” commented the investigator as he took another sip of whiskey.

“He’s definitely an interesting fellow,” the shrink traced the rim of his crystal glass with his finger before taking another drink, grimacing.

“I think he’s a mouthy, son of a bitch,” the inspector chuckled as he placed his glass on the table.

The shrink slid his on the table as well, and flipped through a book.

“I just think it’s odd that he’s so… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Rude?” laughed the inspector.

“Exactly!” exclaimed the shrink, rolling his eyes and slamming the book shut. “It’s like he doesn’t… I don’t know… care! Care about what we think of him, his situation, what he’s about to face in court! I told him that I was the only person that was holding back the case from continuing, and he brushed me off.”

“Well,” said the inspector. “What do you expect? Do you want him to get down on his knees and beg for freedom? Do exactly as you like? Lie down under your psychological microscope and self-dissect?”

“Well, yes!” said the shrink. “I was expecting a charming Ted Bundy who was willing to share everything to keep from getting the chair.”

“I’d imagine that as the reality of the chair sets in, he will become more considerate to your needs. Especially as we get closer to the actual sentencing,” the inspector motioned to the bottle of whiskey on the table.

“Go ahead,” the shrink waved his hand. “I think you may be right. I just don’t want him to go and get himself executed. Have you seen this record? It’s amazing!”

The inspector poured him some more of the amber liquor.

“That’s one word for it,” he laughed nervously. “I call it weird as shit.”

“Well yes,” said the shrink as he snatched the bottle from the inspector and poured him another glass. “But look at the precision of these murders! It’s almost artistic. Terrifying. And beautiful.”

The glasses clinked together and the whiskey went down each of their throats.

“I think you’re just as crazy as he is,” laughed the inspector.

“Maybe so,” said the shrink. “But you have to admit, it’s incredibly impressive what he did out there.”

“I don’t have to admit anything, freak,” the inspector smiled at him.

He looked down at his watch and sighed.

“It’s almost midnight,” he said.

“And?” asked the shrink.

“And I have two more reports to go through before I can leave,” he rubbed his forehead. “And I’ve got to be back up here at fucking eight in the morning.”

“Well, have fun…” said the shrink, already consumed by whatever book he was reading.

The inspector stood up and pushed his chair back under the desk. He looked up at the books that covered the walls of the office.

“You sure do have a lot of books,” he commented, moving his finger across the top of the chair.

The shrink, not looking up, replied, “It’s what happens when you go to school for eight years. They just kind of show up.”

“I guess so,” said the inspector. “Well you have a good…”

An urgent knocking came from the door.

The shrink finally looked up and said, “Come in.”

A guard stumbled in, “you’re going to want to come see this!”

The young man was breathing hard.

“It’s the priority prisoner,” he stammered. “So. Much. Blood.”

The shrink flew out of his chair and he grabbed the inspectors elbow as they pushed past the young guard, and down the hall way.
“No, no, no, no, no,” he whispered urgently to himself.

The party reached the first set of doors.

“LET ME IN!” bellowed the shrink as he pounded on the door.

The inspector pulled out his key card and the door pushed open with a buzz.

The pair of them ran down the hallway of barred cells, all full of criminals of different offenses.

Each and every one of them cooed, hooted, hollered their way, banging on the bars of their cell and trying to reach out as far as they could to grab hold of one of the officials. However, they recoiled like roaches to the light when the guards passed by, knowing they very well may lose a hand.

When they finally reached the top priority cell, the door was already propped open for them.

Paramedics and guards filled the room.

“Get out of the way!” shouted the shrink, as he and the inspector pushed into the room.

They reached the cell.

The door was opened and there was blood all over the floor. There was a metallic bite in the air. It was so strong that they could almost taste it. The bed was knocked over on its side; the sink was pulled nearly off of the wall. However, the most alarming sight in the cell was the newly decorated walls.

“I AM SATAN, FEAR MY GLORY AND TERROR. LOVE ME,” was written across the walls of the cell.

“God!” the inspector breathed.

“IS HE STILL ALIVE?!” yelled the shrink. “Where is he!? I’m going to kill him!”

He stormed out of the cell and grabbed the first paramedic in reach.

“Where did y’all send him?” he demanded.

“He was sent back into the hospital wing,” the worker said.

The shrink pushed him out of the way and ran back down the hallway back towards the prison hospital.

He better not be fucking dead!