Page 72 of Brainwashed
I physically can’t help the way my mouth twitches. It’s bizarre. “I thought you wanted the shrink answer.”
He tosses his head back and lets out a laugh that warms me inside. I’m baffled by this reaction I’m having. I’ve never cared about making someone laugh before, but when Felix does it, and I’m the cause, it’s like some great feat.
It’s probably just because he’s a sociopath. I suppose anyone would be excited to entertain someone who lacks so many basic human emotions.
Getting us back on track, I say, “So you’re unhappy today.”
“Iwas, yea.” He gives me a curious look, then bites his lip again.
My head sways at him. “But not anymore?”
He shakes his. “Not so much. Now I’m just hungry.”
“Right.” I sigh. “Always hungry, it seems.”
His shoulder lifts. “Well, what do you expect? They don’t feed us for shit.”
This is only the zillionth time he’s complained to me about being hungry. And that triggers an idea.
Grabbing my work phone, which is still recording, I pull up a text to Kent.
“What are you doing?” Felix asks, scooting forward like he wants to look at my phone screen.
“Stay put,” I rumble at him while texting, and he retreats in his seat, sitting patiently.
Once I’m done, I place the phone back down and look up to find him sitting on his hands, wiggling in place. He seems like he has some excess energy that needs to be burned as well.
Maybe I’ll try to organize some recreational time for him.
“I would like to get back to your earlier kills at some point, but for right now, I want you to tell me about your most recent kill. Ivan Wilkerson.”
Felix nods. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, let’s start with why specifically you killedhim.”
He gives me a look, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Because he was there.”
That answer gives me chills. It’s so indicative of him as a killer. He’s an anomaly, after all. The perfect combination of product and process, with such wildly varying choices as far as his victims go.
Some were his lovers, some were men he despised. Some reminded him of his father, others his ideal plaything.
The wordfascinatingis getting old, and it doesn’t even scratch the surface of Felix Darcey.
“But you know there was another reason.” I inch forward. “I heard you were begging for a cellmate. Was that just so you could kill him?”
Felix reclines on the couch. “I think the fact that I would kill whomever they put in my cell was inevitable. But I killed that asshole Wilkerson because he was a piece of shit. You know he was raping young boys and girls for years, right? And the last one actually died…” He scoffs and shakes his head. “Wilkerson deserved to die. So having him delivered to my cell was like kismet. It was what the universe wanted.”
Wow. There’s so much to unpack here. I could pick apart that statement alone for weeks.
Attempting to stow my giddiness, I ask, “What were you aiming for with his carving?”
“I wanted to make him look like he was pouting, because he was really fucking whiny.” He grins. “He was another one of thoseI’m innocenttypes. And then, after I found out what he’d done, I was kind of appalled. To harm a child and then claim innocence… I mean, I’m not saying I’m the perfect monster or anything, but evenIwouldn’t do that.”
I blink at him a few times. “You draw the line at children.”
“And old people.” He nods. “I’m not here to fuck with those who can’t even defend themselves. Some of my favorite victims were child abusers.”
I can’t help but find what he’s saying sort of commendable. We all know murder isn’t right, but society is certainly a better place without the Ivan Wilkersons of the world.
