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Psychoanalyst

When Malia gets an offer to psychoanalyse what could be the most dangerous prisoner England has had in years, she has no idea what she's getting into. Putting her own life in danger for an innocent person. Or so she thinks.

xniallscrownx · Urbano
Classificações insuficientes
18 Chs

day 2

Tuesday, 6th December, 2016

Wakefield, England, United Kingdom

3:15 pm

Today I met Luke Harris.

I'm still terrified.

As soon as my alarm goes off at 6:30 am I get up, almost jumping out of bed. I'm anxious to meet Harris, and to start my job with him. I want to know what secrets he's hiding, the motive behind those gruesome murders he supposedly commited. I am ready in less than fifteen minutes before walking towards the prison.

In the land near the big building there's several small houses reserved for some of the workers, so I will be staying in one of these isolated houses so I won't lose time commuting. I just have a ten minute walk through the big field, or I could even call Laude and he would send me a guard with a small vehicle to take me to the prison.

This morning the sky is completely white and empty. No clouds can be seen but neither the sun. It is as if a big sheet is covering it completely. The wind is strong and cold. And the only noise I hear as I walk is the branches moving. So when I step inside the prison and I hear all the inmates shouting and conversing as they walk towards breakfast I feel a bit overwhelmed.

I walked straight to Laude's office, trying to remember the path from the night before. When I arrive, I knock softly and wait in silence, thankful that the office is so far away from the canteen so I don't have to hear or see the inmates.

— Good morning, Doctor Hayden – Laude says as he opens the door.

— Good morning – I smile at him.

— Walk with me, please – Laude starts walking down the stairs and towards the isolation unit –. Harris is already in the interrogatory room – he explains as he enters several codes for the various doors we walk through –. Today I'll be with you, just in case. But there are also cameras and guards keeping an eye on them outside.

— Alright.

— Last chance: are you really ready for this? – he asks, stopping in front of a door.

— I am – I assert, believing in myself.

Laude nods and opens the door. We enter a small cubicle. Everything is dark, there are no windows. The light is white and bright, pretty annoying. In the middle of the cubicle there's a table with two chairs, one on each side. In one of those chairs, Harris is already seated. His hair looks long, messy, dirty and unkept… even worse than in the picture I had seen before. His face stays in a neutral expression, looking at an invisible point in the wall. He doesn't even look at us when we enter. Robert indicates to me to sit in the chair in front of Harris. His eyes then move towards me. His lips are tense, his beard long and irregular. His skin is pale and under his eyes there are some big dark circles. But his green eyes shine.

— Good morning – I say loud and clear. But there's no answer. His eyes then wander back to that invisible point –. Good morning – I repeat.

Harris looks at me and then glances at Laude. I know what he wants. I know if I give him what he wants he will let his guard down and will, eventually, tell me everything I need to know. So I get up and approach Robert, asking him to leave the room. I have to insist three more times until he finally accepts and walks out, letting me know he'll be on the other side of the door watching the cameras with two other guards. I go back to the table and I extend my hand towards him.

— Okay, let's try this again. I'm Doctor Malia Hayden.

— Luke – he whispers with a deep and slow tone, as he's holding my hand firmly, shaking it for just a second.

— Nice to meet you, Luke.

— On another occasion I'd say the same – he says seriously, looking right into my eyes, before taking his glance back to that invisible point.

— I understand you're not in a great situation, Luke… That's why I'm here. To help you.

— Help me? – he laughs sarcastically – You're ot here to help me. Nobody is here to help me. Everyone has already chosen to believe I'm guilty.

— And you're not?

— No.

— There's evidence against you, Luke.

— I'm innocent – he says with disgust, looking at me again –. I have a clear conscience. I didn't kill Kelsey or any of those other women, even if they deserved it. I didn't do it.

— How did you know Kelsey? – I ask about the last victim.

— I'm not going to talk about this.

— Alright, then… – I shrug and lean back on my chair, calm – What do you wanna talk about?

— I don't want to talk to you at all – he claims bitterly –. You only want me to confess so those assholes can finally prove I'm guilty and they can walk away after arresting an innocent person.

— Okay, we won't talk. But I'm still clocked in… Do you want something? Food, water…?

— I could use a cig, if you can't get me that, you better leave now.

— I told you I'm working, I can't leave even if we just stay here in silence for the next hour. But I want you to know you can trust me, so I'm gonna get you that cig.

— Really?

— Yeah… but you need to talk about Kelsey a bit.

— Alright – he accepts after a moment of silence –. Get me a cig and I'll tell you all about that bitch.

I nod and walk outside the room. Laude is still here, watching through the cameras. As soon as I reach him he starts insisting that no smoking is allowed inside the prison. However, again after insisting a few times, letting him know it is best for Luke to think I am as less of a threat as possible, he accepts. One of the guards hands me a cigarette and a lighter. Then I walk back in and close the door. As soon as he sees the cigarette in my hand, Luke smiles.

— Here you go – I say, leaving the cigarette on top of the table as I sit in front of him again –. Will you now talk about Kelsey, please?

— I'm sorry… I lied – he whispers, with the cigarette between his lips, leaning forward so I can light it up –. I actually need you to do me another favour. Tell them to turn it off.

— Turn what off? – I ask before lighting the cigarette up. He takes a deep puff of the cig and lets the smoke out slowly before speaking.

— The camera. It's giving me a headache.

— How can it give you a headache?

— The noise is very annoying. Tell them to turn it off and I'll tell you all about Kels.

— Luke, you know they can't turn it off.

— Actually… yes, they can. It's very easy, they just need to press a button. Even those stupid assholes can do it.

— Luke, we said if I got you a cig, you would tell me about Kelsey. The camera wasn't part of the deal.

— Well, then… I'm not going to talk about Kelsey, I already got what I wanted – he laughs.

Harris takes the cigarette to his lips while he looks at me, defying me. I stay still, with a frown and tense jaw. He is really insistent. He wants to be in control of the entire situation, which is fairly suspicious. I know if I ask Laude to turn the cameras off he will lose it, I have been demanding more than I should on my first day. But I also know I have to keep Luke happy. I need to make him think he is in fact in control, so he will let his guard down. Before I can get up to ask Robert to turn the camera off, he enters the room, looking furious. Luke looks briefly at him before looking back at me.

— Tell him to leave – he whispers so only I can hear him.

— The camera is not going to be turned off, Harris – Laude snarls.

— Robert, I promise you I'll be safe. It's best if you turn it off.

— Doctor Hayden I do not think it's a good id-…

— You have to trust me. That's why you brought me here, isn't it? You need my help, and to get my help you need to trust me.

Laude refuses to answer and leaves the room still worked up. Just a few seconds later I see Luke with a small grin before taking a long hit of his cigarette. He leans his head backwards before letting the smoke out upwards. I stay still, observing him, not saying a word. He should start talking, I refuse to believe he's played me again.

— So peaceful… – he says, looking back at me –. The sound of that camera was very annoying.

— C'mon, Luke.

— Alright… Kelsey – he nods as he rolls his eyes –. I was dating her. We were together for eight years – his eyes went back to the invisible point on the wall –. I… I loved her. I really did – he nods –, I truly thought she was the one. The night it all happened I was actually going to propose. I was head over heels for her… – he sounds angry, getting worked up –. She… she had just lied to me. Lied the entire time. She was a fucking liar! – he shouts, hitting the top of the table with his fist. I stay quiet, looking at him. Clearly, he needs to vent. He hasn't talked about what happened to anyone. No one knows his side of the story –. You remind me of her, you know? Petite, brunette… and with a smile that could be worth a million dollars and anyone would pay to see it.

— What happened that night, Luke? – I insist.

— I was at a friend's house – he starts narrating, while the cigarette is being consumed between his fingers –. I was getting ready. I thought it was going to be the most important night of my life. I was suited up, had the ring in my pocket… – he takes another hit of the cigarette before pressing it against the table, ceasing the smoke – So I left my friend's house, walking towards home to finish some details about the proposal. I was walking through a really sketchy neighbourhood… and then I saw her. Kelsey was standing next to a white van, talking to the driver. She was dressed… she never wore clothes like that. Or so I thought. She was wearing the shortest skirt I've ever seen. And she wasn't even wearing a top, or a blouse. She just had a bra on with an open leather jacket. It made me shiver seeing her like that… – as he is talking I can sense his throat closing up, as he holds back the tears – I stood there… trying to deny what was obvious. Kelsey, my girlfriend, the love of my life… she was a prostitute – he stays quiet for a second before his watery eyes disappear and his frown appears –. She was a fucking whore! I had been giving her my everything for eight fucking years and she was a fucking whore! She was fucking other men every single day! – he yells, standing up – That bitch… She could have giving me a fucking STD. Well, not really, because almost everytime I wanted something she was "too tired" or had a "headache". I now know why – he whispers, letting himself back down on the chair.

— That must have been really hard for you… Is that why you killed her?

— I didn't kill her – he mumbles –. But… you know what? I don't even feel sorry for her.

— What happened after you found her, Luke?

— I yelled at her… I scared the white van away. She was shocked, but then she tried to explain herself. I didn't let her. I tried to slap her but she avoided it. I guess… I guess I was so mad at that moment that if I had a knife, maybe I would have hurt her. Not letting someone else have the pleasure to do it. But I didn't do that. I simply spit on her feet, told her she was a bitch and left.

— But… when police arrived they found you with your shirt with stains of blood. Her blood – I remind him.

— Yes… you're not letting me finish, impatient – he whispers, as if he's saying something intimate. Then he stands up again, puts his hands on the table and leans towards me until his face is close to mine –. I went back.

— Why? Weren't you so mad at her you never wanted to see her again? Or did you still want to hurt her.

— None of that. I wanted her to know… I wanted her to know what she had thrown away. I wanted to show her the ring I had bought her… But when I arrived she was lying on the floor. She was dead.

— How much time passed between when you left her and when you found her dead?

— Like… an hour or two.

— You don't know? What did you do during that time?

— I found a bar and got drunk. What else could I do if I had just discovered my girlfriend was a fucking prostitute?

— You could have killed her.

— I didn't kill her, fuck! – he shouts, putting his hand around my neck. I stay quiet, looking into his eyes, feeling how his fingers sink through my skin, as he tightens his grip – I. Didn't. Kill. Her. It would have been easy. As easy as it would be to kill you now. But I didn't do it.

— Okay, then keep telling me what happened – he stays quiet for a moment before letting me go.

— I already told you – he shudders and sits back in his chair –. I came back, almost black out drunk and I found her lying on the floor, bleeding out.

— How did you find the body?

— She had ligature marks in her neck… – he starts explaining, not even needing to remember the situation. It was as if Kelsey's body was on top of the table between us – They probably had choked her with a fishing rod or a wire… On top of those marks… she had no head. She had been beheaded. Her body was lying on an alley but her head had rolled to a corner. So I went and picked it up and put it back where it belonged. Kelsey was way too pretty, I couldn't not see her one last time. Her abdomen was slashed, completely open, some of her ribs were broken… I thought how would have been if I had done that, if I had been the one to make her scream with fear… – he whispers with a creepy grin –. Anyway… she was also missing something.

— What was missing?

— It's obvious… – he smiles, licks his lips and grabs my chin so I look right into his eyes – Her heart. Kelsey had no heart. They had taken it to prove to me it had never been mine.