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Post by Eric Allen Carson on Nov 14, 2015 18:16:56 GMT -5
Eric sat quietly, the straight jacket laced tightly around him. The floor was cold against his bare feet, but he hardly felt it at all. In truth, he liked it. Steely, dark eyes stared at the woman on the other side of the table from him. She was attractive, blonde, tall, large breasted, probably fake, but more than that, she was in his way. She was asking him questions, trying to analyze the lunatic. That was what the police kept calling him anyway. Ever since he had been brought here they called him that and worse. Evans and Broderick were the worst of them all. But the woman across from him was the first victim for the day. Somehow, even having been in prison, he had managed to kill four people over the course of ten days, including the prison chaplain. "Tell me what's going through your mind, Mr. Carson," her squeaky voice called out. His eyes darted away for a moment, then back to her. A slow smile crept over his face and he answered. "I see six different ways to kill you from right here."
The woman backed away in her chair and got up, calling for the guard. But it was too late. "Hmmm, seven," he said sharply as one of the buckles from his straightjacket came loose. He tossed the buckle into the back of the woman's head, and her lifeless body hit the floor.
That was then....
Four days had passed since his escape from the police department. Despite their finest efforts, the police couldn't find the psycho. Multiple safehouses around the city kept him out of view while he bided his time until his next victim. Tonight though, it was a bit different. He sat in the corner of the room, sweating, crying, rocking back and forth while he mumbled to himself. "Please forgive me. I don't mean to hurt them, I, I don't have a choice." He often had no control over his impulses. He looked up, sweat dripping into his eyes, unblinking, and out the window. A young woman caught his eye and broke him completely out of his stupor. He was quickly out the door and down the stairs. Apparently, she had caught someone else's attention too. There was another man following her, and she didn't seem to have recognized that yet. Or maybe she had and was playing it cool. Either way, the man wouldn't get her. Nope. Nope, she was Eric's.
The man cut around a corner, obviously well versed in the roads and alleys of the street. He came back into view right in front of the woman. He said something that Eric couldn't hear from the distance, but it didn't matter. Eric's face scrunched up as he noted the man handing her something. "You dropped this," he said. Eric came up behind them, his pistol pulled and aimed at them, laughing hysterically. "Well, looks like lost and found here. Who knew they delivered," he cackled, before going suddenly stone quiet. His jaw clenched, and his left eye twitched. It turned into a creepy smile and the trigger squeezed, firing off a silenced shot that hit the man in the throat. "Just the two of us," he said with a scoff.
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Post by Selina Raymond on Nov 14, 2015 19:47:21 GMT -5
Selina walked down the street quickly, phone in hand and a couple of shopping bags in the crook of her elbows. Retail therapy was normally comforting to her, but right now it didn’t seem to be helping at all. That stupid idiot Graham. She couldn’t believe he’d cheated on her. Like, seriously? After all those promises he’d made her, all those things he’d said. Well, that was why they were referred to as sweet nothings, she guessed. Still, it was quite a heartbreak for her. They’d been together for just over a year, her longest relationship to date. Then this happened. Ugh. She wasn’t going to cry over this asshole. No way, no how. She was done with that now. A whole week had passed since then. It was time to pick herself back up and go back to her old self. She couldn’t just sit around and mope forever. Maybe she’d go to that party tonight and meet some new people. That would probably be good for her.
That was when the man approached her, holding out an earring that he said she’d dropped. “Oh, thank you…” she started. But wait, that earring didn’t look like one that she owned. She lifted her hands to her ears. No jewelry was missing. A look of confusion passed her face. “Wait, that’s not mine.” Another voice behind her now, and she turned around to see a man with a gun. Just what the hell was going on here? Were they together and planning to rob her or worse? Selina quickly got the answer to that question, as the second man shot the first dead in the alleyway. Her hands quickly covered her mouth to keep her from screaming out, afraid that would just make the man with the gun angry. Though at this point, maybe nothing would help. Maybe she was dead already.
Just the two of us… she didn’t like the sound of that one bit. Her mind raced, trying to think of anything she could possibly say that might save her. “P...please… don’t hurt me. I have money, if that’s what you want.” She hoped to god that he could be satisfied with just money. “I promise I won’t tell anyone what I saw.” Maybe it would work. She had no idea who this man was, or what he wanted. But the look in his eyes terrified her. Especially when paired with that smile and laugh. His face was one that might normally be thought to be handsome, but not with that expression. Part of her hoped that someone would stumble across them and call for help, but she was honestly worried that anyone who did happen to see them would just end up dead like the man with the earring.
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Post by Eric Allen Carson on Nov 21, 2015 20:54:09 GMT -5
Well, that was funny. The other guy had the same idea. But that guy was out of the way now. Such a shame, for her to cover that pretty mouth with her hands...but it did stop her from screaming. Not that it really mattered, Eric kinda liked it when they screamed. It showed that they felt something, fear, anger, whatever it was, that he brought out of her. Of course she was scared. Eric had a gun, and a gun was the source of fear for the majority of humans. Or was it the impending doom that a gun represented? Death? Pain? What was it? It didn't matter. Eric had to focus on his victim. Then she started talking. That made it easier to focus on her. And here came the begging. Eric's head tilted to the left a bit as she spoke. Her voice was full of fear, and almost brought out that laugh again from him.
"Money? I have money too." His left hand reached into his pocket and revealed a five dollar bill. It was certainly not impressive by any means. But it was a partial way of showing that he didn't care about money. Dropping the five made it that much more apparent. He shook his head. "What's money between hunter and prey?" he asked with a bit of a throaty chuckle. He twitched. His gun arm jerked forward and his neck ticked. He shook away whatever it was and focused on her again. Did he want to do this? Hurt her? The answer was no. He fired a bullet past her left shoulder, nowhere near hitting her, then lowered the gun. "I'm feeling....I'm feeling a little chaotic though. A little....a little....what's the word? Disordered? Yeah, yeah that's it. Disordered. I wanna hear you talk. Talk your way outta this. That's what you women do, right? Talk too much." He grinned. Yeah, he knew it was a bit insulting to say such a thing. But for the most part, it was a true statement.
"So talk. Tell me why I shouldn't put a round in your face. Or maybe I could put one in your knee, watch you hobble a bit. That'd be an interesting sight." She did have some long legs. He looked them up and down, feeling a bit of stiffness in his lower body. He managed to play that off pretty well. He thought so anyway. Not that it really mattered either. He had no intention of taking her against her will. Eric was a murderer, a monster, but he wasn't a rapist. He moved the gun again, pointing it at her right knee, no intention at all of firing a shot. But she didn't know that. His head tilted again, and that smile came over his face. A bit of spittle flew from his mouth, rolling down into his beard. He wiped it away and moved the gun again, this time putting the barrel to his own head. "Or maybe you'd like it if I just put a round in my own head. You'd be out of this alive then, huh? Maybe a little traumatized, but still...alive? So what's it gonna be?" He moved the gun, spinning it on his finger before it came to rest in his palm again. His eyes widened with excitement. What would she do?
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Post by Selina Raymond on Nov 22, 2015 22:55:48 GMT -5
It became clear to Selina that this man was not going to be easily dissuaded by any material thing she could offer him. She was completely screwed, so it would seem. The man with the gun could easily have pulled the trigger and ended her life already, yet he had not done so. She thought that strange, if he was just the homicidal maniac type looking for a quick thrill. It seemed that his preference was for tormenting her now that the other man as out of the way. She watched him pull the cash out of his pocket and drop it to the ground. Her hopes of surviving this encounter were in the exact same place as that five dollar bill: on the ground. Then something strange happened. Seeing him squeeze the trigger, Selina closed her eyes tightly. But the bullet did not pierce her flesh. She opened her eyes again, looking back to see a hole in the ground behind her. Had he done that on purpose? Maybe. He could still be messing with her mind.
Then he spoke again. He wanted to hear her talk her way out of this? As if that was even possible at this point. There was something off about his words, though. Something strange. It was chaotic and seemed to be out of focus. At least he realized it himself, though the word he ended up using was ‘disordered’. There was a moment where she was fairly sure he was checking her out. Was there a way she could use that to her advantage? Maybe, but she would have to wait for an opening. And just a little more certainty before she risked her life playing that card. In the meantime, it seemed that she had a decision to make. Time to play where should the bullet go? It shocked her more than anything that he offered to shoot himself in the head. Surely he couldn’t be serious about that. So that option was out. Asking him to shoot her in the leg was undoubtedly a dud as well. He was unlikely to leave her alive with just a flesh wound. That would mean he would either ignore her request altogether, or shoot her and then take her with him to torment her even more before finally ending her life.
“You’ve killed once already today. Did that help you clear your mind?” she asked him thoughtfully. He’d killed the man so easily that she couldn’t help but think there might be a part of him that might not want to kill her for whatever reason. She hoped that was true. However, she’d studied enough criminal minds in school and read enough books to know how unpredictable they could be. Any words she spoke might be a possible landmine for him. “If what you want is my death, then please…” She reached out to him, taking the hand that did not hold the gun and pressing it over her heart. He still had the weapon in his other hand, and therefore all the power. “...do it quickly. But if you want to hear me speak, or even beg more for my life, you will need to take me somewhere else. Someone on the street will have heard those gunshots and might have called for the police.” Normally she would never suggest that a man like this should take her anywhere. Right now she was just buying time to think of a better strategy. Besides, if he took her to wherever he called home he might feel a little less on edge.
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Post by Eric Allen Carson on Nov 27, 2015 22:20:11 GMT -5
Eric didn't always know what was going on in his own mind. In fact, he rarely ever knew. There were those moments of clarity, but they would quickly fog up every time. He stared hard at the woman in front of him, waiting for her to react to what he'd said. "Clear my mind?" he asked with a bit of a scoff. He had to admit that he didn't really understand where she was going with that. His mind was never clear. "I don't even know what that means," he said softly, almost pathetically. When she stepped forward, his eyes squinted. What was she planning? He knew that women could be very crafty, even conniving. For a moment when she took his free hand, that entire arm went limp. Somehow though, he managed to keep his gun arm strong, but he nearly dropped the gun when she put his free hand over her heart. "What are you do...," he started to ask before she started talking again. Luckily for him, he managed to hold onto the gun, but conspicuously didn't pull his free hand away from her. What was her game?
He also had to admit that she was right. People would have heard the gun shots. Luckily for him, no sirens were in earshot yet. He nodded slowly, then motioned with the gun for her to move forward. He directed her towards his place with every step, making sure that she didn't divert from the path. Once they were inside, she would see a large, empty room. There was a small bed and a toilet and sink on the opposite end, but otherwise it was an open floorplan with a small wall between the bed and the 'bathroom'. "I'd say make yourself comfortable, but this place isn't exactly cozy. And then there's the gun," he said with a smirk. The entire way to the place though, she would probably hear his mouth breathing while he watched her ass move. It definitely distracted him some, but he somehow kept focused enough so that he wouldn't let her get away.
"So what do you think of my place?" he asked with a rhetorical tone. He moved to the one window and looked outside. From there, he could just barely see the dead man's arm from around the corner of the building. His entire demeanor changed. "I-I killed him," he said softly. "I didn't want to, I-I don't mean to do it. I don't like it, I don't even enjoy it. I-I don't know why I do it." He turned to her, a crazed look in his eyes. "Am I insane? Have I lost my marbles?" he asked with a slight laugh. He started to sit the gun down on the window sill, but he held onto it and looked at her again. "Or am I just lost?" he asked, almost child-like.
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Post by Selina Raymond on Dec 14, 2015 19:42:09 GMT -5
Well, at least it bought her a little time. The man led her out of the alleyway and down the street a ways. Much to her surprise, he practically lived across the street from where he’d shot down the would-be robber. Selina was beyond shocked when he pointed out the stairs she was supposed to go up. Her mind raced, not knowing what this man wanted or how she could possibly get out of this alive. All the while, she could hear him behind her as they walked up the stairs. Could practically feel his eyes on her backside. There was very little doubt in her mind now about whether or not he was attracted to her physically. The question now was whether or not she could use that as leverage to help her get out of this situation. She had to think back to her studies. There were so many cases she could think of that might help her, but she needed to know more about this man. All she knew so far was that he’d killed a man to get close to her. At least, that was what she was assuming his goal had been in the beginning. The way he’d proudly proclaimed that it was now just the two of them... So was he some kind of homicidal maniac? A serial killer? If he hadn’t already threatened to kill her as well, she might think that he had some kind of misguided hero complex.
Finally, they made it up to his place and she walked inside. He even asked for her opinion, although it wasn’t as clear to her whether or not he really wanted her opinion. “It’s… nice…” It was barren, which wasn’t really a surprise to Selina considering his apparent disdain for material possessions. Speaking of which, she looked down at her hands. Somehow she’d managed to keep hold of the two bags of merchandise she’d been carrying on one arm. Retail therapy. That had been her excuse. The clothes themselves seemed so trivial now in comparison to the situation this little impromptu shopping trip had gotten her into. “Umm… is there somewhere specific I should put these down?” she asked, not wanting to just dump them off wherever in case he was OCD about his place. It was just more polite that way, and for now she wanted to do whatever she could to not piss him off.
The mood shifted as the man went to look out the window. Was he feeling remorse now for killing that man? It seemed like only a few minutes ago he was laughing about it. Split personalities, maybe? He could just be some form of extreme bipolar. Still difficult to tell. One thing was clear, though: Selina actually felt kind of bad for him. It didn’t seem like he had any real control. It might even be the kind of thing that could be helped with medication. Then he would be just a normal guy. Who’d killed… at least one person. “I don’t know,” she responded when he asked her whether he was crazy or just lost. “I don’t even know your name.” If she could at least get him to refer to her by name, she figured that she would be better off. Killers tended to think of their victims as disposable objects. If he saw her as a person, maybe she would be safe. For a little while longer, anyway.
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Post by Eric Allen Carson on Jan 1, 2016 22:48:22 GMT -5
Time would be on Selina's side, considering that Eric had no real intention of killing her. At least, he didn't think that he did. He wasn't even sure, to be totally honest with himself. He stared at her all the way up to his place, where they made their way in. He knew that she would be able to feel his eyes surveying her. Also truth, he really didn't care that much about her opinion on his place. It was simple, a base of operations for him that he used when he wasn't out and about on one of his murderous rampages. He just shrugged when she asked where to put down her bags. "Over there," he said nonchalantly, pointing towards a spot by one of the boarded up windows. He didn't really care where she dropped the bags. She could have left them anywhere. He rolled the cold steel of his gun in his hand and looked over at her when she gave her answer about whether or not he was crazy. She didn't know. Well that was a first for him, hearing a woman not have all the answers. Or at least think that she had all the answers anyway. But she didn't know. How could she? "Eric," he answered when she mentioned not knowing his name. "Eric Allen Carson."
He'd been in the news before. If she watched the news, then she'd have heard of him, and his killing sprees. Sprees...plural. Somehow, he'd managed to only get caught once, and escaped from prison that one time. He set the gun down on the ledge of the window, and looked over at her again. There was a bit of fear in his eyes. Was he going to hurt the wrong person this time? Would he ever be free of the curse of insanity?
His expression changed again, to a look of feeling that she should know it all. "You don't know me, I don't know you. But you seem less scared, and more intrigued. Am I right?" he asked, his eyes narrowing a bit. He picked the gun back up. "Why me? That what you're thinking? Why would I choose you. The truth? I didn't choose. The urge came over me, and I acted. See, I'm a man of impulse. My mind, it's a ticking time bomb. I'll be as calm as an autumn wind one moment, and as explosive as a volcano the next. But you, you have that too. What's the saying? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?" He spun the gun around his finger and aimed it under his chin. "Do I scare you? What does? Why do I care? What makes you wet? We could spend so much time talking, learning about each other. But what would be the point?" He pulled the gun away from his chin and spun it around again, sitting on the floor and crossing his legs, 'indian style'. "So, let's have a little pow wow, shall we?"
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Post by Selina Raymond on Jan 17, 2016 19:56:48 GMT -5
Eric Allen Carson… “Holy shit…” No wonder he’d looked so familiar in a way that she was unable to completely recall. “One of my classmates did a presentation about your…” she paused, trying to think of exactly how to phrase it. Murder spree might anger him, and she didn’t want to chance that right now. There really was no way to put it delicately, though. He was a serial killer, and if he was anywhere near as crazy as he was acting, she probably would not be alive for much longer. “...about all those people that you killed last year.” In a way, knowing that there wasn’t really anything that she could offer him in exchange for her freedom was a comfort. Better than being teased with the possibility of freedom. It meant that maybe she didn’t have to fear him as much. Of course she was afraid of death, but if this man was going to end her life no matter what then at least she could accept it. Maybe she would find a way to escape, but she was not putting her hopes behind that too much. Not when he’d already shown her just how quickly his moods could change. “I’m… Selina. Selina Raymond.”
At least now he’d put the gun down. That was a small improvement. The truly unexpected thing was him pretty much reading her mind. Did he have some kind of power? Not likely, or he wouldn’t have asked some of the questions he had. Still, he seemed to know that her fear of him was not as great as it probably should be. Selina nodded her agreement. She couldn’t help but be curious about this man. After all, wanting to understand the mind of a killer was what had gotten her into psychology in the first place. Now it seemed that she had the perfect chance to observe one. The fact that it would almost certainly mean her death was just one of life’s little ironies.
He wanted to talk. Selina watched him take a seat on the ground before moving. Sitting cross-legged in a relatively short skirt was not exactly appropriate, so when she moved to sit down as well she did so by sitting on her knees. “Of course you scare me. There’s no greater power than the power over whether someone lives or dies, and that is the power you have over me now.” She ignored the question about what turned her on, assuming that it was just one of many in a long string of his thoughts that he wasn’t really expecting an answer to. That assumption seemed only confirmed when he asked her what the point would be of them getting to know each other. “So… what do you want to talk about then?”
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Post by Eric Allen Carson on Feb 8, 2016 12:59:19 GMT -5
"A presentation?" he asked, clearly both curious and a bit amused by the fact that they talked about him in schools. He understood it though. "How did that presentation go? Did she say I was some sort of psycho? Or maybe just misunderstood? That's how they like to portray people like me after all. Bad background. Mother and father probably beat me, life in shit. No place to turn to but violence." He smirked. He'd heard it all, but somehow he figured that a college student's premise might be a bit different, and he was intrigued. "Selina," he repeated a couple times, letting the syllables roll off his tongue. "Good to know. Somehow I feel we'll meet again after tonight." Yes, that should comfort her a bit, if for no other reason than that it somewhat gave away that he had no real intention of killing her.
He listened to her answers of his string of questions, noting that she'd left out certain answers. Truthfully they weren't important right now, so it really didn't even bother him that she'd left them out. The answers he got though interested him. "No greater power," he repeated, shaking his head slightly. "Do you know what the greatest power in the world really is?" he asked. He gave her a moment to answer if she wanted to before he answered it himself. "It isn't fear, or love, or knowledge. It's courage. See...," he stopped to shift his weight, moving to sit up on his knees as well. He leaned forward a bit to look her in the eye. "See, everyone has fear. Everyone has some knowledge. Same goes for love, it just takes longer sometimes to realize that. Not everyone has courage though. Courage isn't the absence of fear, it's the mastery of it. How do you think all these heroes continue to do what they do?" He stopped for a moment to let that sink in. "I have fear. Every time I kill someone, I'm afraid I'll get caught. But I master that fear and do it anyway." He shifted his weight again, getting better balance on his knees. She'd captured his thought process with the power conversation. "In that presentation. Did the person talk about the time I was in Mooncrest City and I ran afoul of the vigilante they call the Nightwalker? I've never in my life felt more fear than I felt that night. I had killed three people in a hotel lobby. He chased me to the edge of the city. I'd say we fought, but the truth wasn't so simple." He reached up and touched his jaw. It still hurt to think about it. "He beat the hell out of me. Damn near killed me. Oh, fear gripped me, you bet. But it was courage that led me to fling myself off that cliff to get away from him." Never mind that a little luck was involved too, considering that the cops arrived just in time and the vigilante had to disappear.
"That was the first time I'd gotten caught. I had killed forty eight people before that. The cops gave me their slap on the wrist. Took me in, patched me up. I escaped, and killed again. Not because I'm not afraid to get caught, because I am. But because I have the courage to do what I do." He looked at the gun laying off to the side. "This gun caused you fear just as much as I did. But think about it for a moment. You could have run while I was scolding myself for killing that guy in the alley. You have courage too. It's taking that to not be sweating bullets right now, to even talk to me."
"That's what I want to talk about," he said with a smile. "What's your take on it?"
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Post by Selina Raymond on Feb 13, 2016 0:52:29 GMT -5
“I believe she classified you as a psychopath. That you were able to blend in with normal society when necessary because you can mimic normal human emotions even though you can’t actually feel anything and don’t have a conscience…” But he did feel emotion, or at least he seemed to. Maybe he was faking it all for her benefit. Many of the most prolific serial killers were that way, and from what she’d read they could be very convincing. They could hold down normal jobs, get married and live fairly normal lives with no one being the wiser about the monster that was underneath. Eric did not appear to have that much control. He was more volatile, more like a sociopath. She wasn’t entirely sure what to think of him yet. Especially with that next comment. “D...does that mean you’re going to let me go?” She was incredibly surprised by that prospect. “How do you know I won’t tell the police where you are or something?”
Selina paused for a moment, not entirely sure whether or not she should be honest with him. “I… disagree with you,” she said finally. “It does take courage to jump into the unknown, even if the only other alternative is certain destruction. But all the courage in the world wouldn’t save me right now if you decided that you wanted to point that gun at my head and pull the trigger. One courageous man might push an innocent bystander out of the path of a drunken driver, but in the end it’s the one behind the wheel who has all three lives in the palm of their hand.” Ugh, maybe she’d royally screwed up and he wouldn’t like her doing anything beyond agreeing with his words. Maybe she was too late and she’d already signed her own death warrant. Well, if nothing else, it would be proving her own point in a way. “Not fear, but death itself is the greatest power. It takes everything eventually.”
The way he spoke about courage made it seem like he was in control when he committed those murders, which seemed to contradict what she’d seen during his little breakdown earlier. God she wished that she had some kind of recording device, to keep track of everything he said and help her in unraveling it. This man was such an enigma. He’d be fascinating to try to get close to, to learn exactly what made him tick. Was he in control of his murderous urges, or not?Why did he kill in the first place? He didn’t seem to fit into any of the molds she’d studied in school. Maybe he had some kind of split personality disorder, although the shifts weren’t quite as extreme as the cases she’d read about. It was a dangerous game she was playing by even speaking to him, that much was true, yet she couldn’t help but keep eye contact with him and keep the conversation going. “What is it like? Taking a life…”
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Post by Eric Allen Carson on Mar 12, 2016 22:15:06 GMT -5
"A psychopath?" Eric questioned with a slightly off expression and a slow nod. "I've been called worse, I suppose." He blanched a bit though when she said that the report said he couldn't feel actual emotion, but that he could mimic it. If anything, he'd shown on this night that he could feel emotion. The truth was that he felt all sorts of emotions every day. That...that was actually the problem. He felt those emotions so intensely that the only way to silence them was to act out. He chuckled when she asked if what he said meant that he'd let her go, and again when she asked about how he knew that she'd be silent about what had happened. He nodded and gave a small smile. "I fully intend to let you go, yes. And how do I know you won't go to the cops about this? Because you're too interested. Be it something for your schooling or a genuine intrigue. You want to know...not just more, but all about it."
He smiled, and his smile only grew wider as she spoke her opinion on the matter. Maybe she was right. The points she made were points that he'd not really considered. He slowly clapped his hands when she was finished, acknowledging her wisdom. Wisdom beyond her years, it would seem. "You, you are a highly intelligent woman," he complimented her. "To be honest. I hadn't considered the points that you've just made. Maybe, just maybe I agree with you. But even so, having any sort of power is very corrupting. Courage often makes people feel invincible. Causing fear makes some think they're bigger, more, than they really are. But death, you're right. Death comes for everyone. Well said."
But her next question is what really interested him. Damn it, she kept doing that. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then back to her. "In a word, intoxicating." He let a slight laugh slip. "There's a thrill about it, that power. Holding a life's thread in the palm of your hand. Some prefer the gunshots, others up close. Me? I don't really care how I do it. I just need to do it. You get a sudden rush of adrenaline, like you're floating on cloud nine," he said as he moved his hands expressively. "Then, then there's the guilt. You hit yourself with the question of why you did it. Was this a good death? Was there a good reason for the death? Or any reason at all? Were you just bloodthirsty at the time? Looking to put down an enemy or someone you didn't like? But you don't want the rush." He fell silent for a few moments before he started again. "It hurts. Deep within you don't know if you're still who you want to be. Or if you'll ever get to be that person again. Tell me. Who is it that you want to be?"
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Post by Selina Raymond on Apr 12, 2016 0:45:11 GMT -5
He was so right about her. Dammit. Selina was fascinated by this man. The chance that she would actually tell anyone about what had happened today were slim at best. There was always the chance that someone on the street had spotted them. When the body was discovered in the alley, someone might even put the pieces together. That was a pretty long shot, though. People in this city tended to mind their own business. If the man from before had robbed her, or raped and murdered her, would anyone have even bothered to look into the shadows when they heard her screams? Or would they assume it was just more noise of the city and keep walking? She still hadn’t heard any sirens. Had anyone even bothered to call the cops after Eric shot that man? If so, they were taking their sweet time getting over to the area. “Maybe you’re right. But if so, it would almost be unfortunate for me that you plan on letting me go don’t you think?”
She should be relieved to hear confirmation that he was not planning to hurt her. Instead, she found herself slightly disappointed. Maybe she was the crazy one of the two of them. Well, no. He was obviously crazy. But before today, she’d always considered herself to be fairly normal. Maybe a bit more of an interest in the macabre, but overall normal. Now she got the feeling that there was something a little off in her brain if she was having thoughts like this about a serial killer. One who normally would have already killed her by now. That was what she really didn’t understand. Why was he letting her live? As far as she knew, he hadn’t ever just let a potential victim go. She should already have a bullet in the forehead, or worse. Maybe that was part of the reason she was so intrigued by him; because obviously there was something he saw in her that was different. It was hard not to be curious about the way his mind worked.
He called murder intoxicating, but what she found the most exciting was just hearing him talk about it. That look in his eyes. His need to kill was real, of that much she was certain. These answers of his just brought up more questions. How long would it be before he needed to kill again? Was the guilt worth the high? This conversation could continue forever and Selena still felt like she wouldn’t be all that much closer to solving the puzzle that was Eric Allen Carson. And he wanted to know more about her too, it would seem. Who did she want to be? That was a good question… “If you had asked me that yesterday, I would have said that the person I wanted to be was a psychiatrist. Maybe a profiler. Someone who can get into the heads of the world’s most dangerous men and help law enforcement catch them. Now… I’m not really sure.” Watching a man get shot right in front of you could do that to someone, she guessed.
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Post by Eric Allen Carson on Jun 12, 2016 9:05:28 GMT -5
It wasn't difficult to see it. How could someone not be fascinated by someone who could have already killed them, but didn't do it? Instead that person chose to talk to you. How was that uninteresting in any form or fashion? Eric's mind was something different, to the point that even he didn't fully understand it. That was part of why he was so repentant all the time. But that wasn't all. Eric was interested in her now more than ever. And he had the feeling that she knew that. "Would it be now?" he questioned. That didn't click in his mind how it would be unfortunate for her for him to let her go.
Why was he going to let her live though? It couldn't be just because he was obviously sexually attracted to her. There had to be more. Eric knew there was. Maybe there was some other connection that would tether them. It was the only thing that made sense to him. There was some deeper connection. Maybe she had the need to see someone killed at her hand? Or maybe she was just that interested in him? Women did have a way of wanting to change a man. Maybe she wanted to help him get better. But was there truly any way for him to get better without turning himself in and being put on death row? Eric couldn't believe that there was.
To him, well all he'd said about murder was truth. He needed it, it was the only thing that made him feel whole, powerful. The guilt was worth the high, there was no question about it. "A psychiatrist?" he asked. "That's a noble profession. You wanted to help people like me to get better in the mind?" Well, that thought process was damn near confirmed now. But there was more, a hesitation. She wasn't sure now that she'd seen what she'd seen. "To help cops catch us. I suppose it's better here than in Mooncrest City. Even the cops there would try to rape you." And they'd very likely get away with it. Why was it though, that Eric found himself thinking now about avenging that for her were it to happen? She was drawing him in.
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Post by Selina Raymond on Jun 16, 2016 20:50:39 GMT -5
He seemed confused by her statement. Selina smiled. “If I’m as intrigued by you as you suspect I am, it would be unfortunate for me if you let me go and I never see you again.” Letting her go would just be giving her more and more questions without the chance for her to get any answers. Those dark eyes of his held a world of secrets. A dedicated psychiatrist could probably make an entire career out of studying only him. She just had a feeling there was that much depth and complexity there. This wasn’t just a simple ‘daddy beat me so now I hurt people’ thing. How long would it take someone like her to peel away those layers? She couldn’t even venture a guess. His trust would have to be earned first in order to even start that process. And you’d have to be around him enough without him killing you. Much to her own surprise, Selina found that prospect exciting.
“I don’t think there are very many people like you in this world, Mr. Carson,” she responded. “But yes, to help them get better. To give them an ally; someone they feel like understands them and that they can trust.” She found the criminal mind fascinating. How many books had she read about serial killers? Too many to count, in both fiction and nonfiction. They gave her some very strange dreams, but that was what she’d always been interested in since she was a young girl. Of course, most people didn’t know the extent of her fascination. They would probably think she was crazy herself.
Selina noticed something in Eric’s eyes at that moment. How interesting. She just couldn’t help but ask him about it. “That idea makes you uncomfortable. Why?” It was easy to understand why she would be unhappy about the idea of living in Mooncrest City in the first place, much less getting raped by a bunch of crooked cops. What she couldn’t work out was why he seemed angered by his own statement. The psychologist in her wanted to ask him a hundred questions. “Are you feeling… protective of me?” she asked him curiously. Even if the answer was yes, he might not admit it. There was no way to predict what this man would do. Yet she knew that he would not deny that there was some kind of strange connection between the two of them. “You’ve already probably saved my life once, even if that wasn’t your intention.” That man who’d grabbed her on the street could have done unmentionable things to her in that dark alley without anyone out on the street even bothering to look. It wasn’t difficult to imagine a scenario where that ended in her death.
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Post by Eric Allen Carson on Sept 1, 2016 18:37:55 GMT -5
"What makes you think that we would never see each other again?" Eric returned. He wasn't the classic case psycho. Of that she was correct. There was much more to him. Killing people gave him a rise. It felt good, felt right. There was something unhinged about him, but he wasn't so batshit crazy that he threw himself into impossible situations. He watched her every minute movement. Her body was damn near perfect. But was that part of why he'd chosen her? He didn't even know the answer to that question.
"I bet there are quite a few. I'm really nothing special," he countered. Her words about helping those that were like him though. Those words really struck home. But there was an undertone with her. There was more than just what the eye could perceive. Yes, she was gorgeous, but she was smart, almost tactically smart. Wise, insightful, and there was a determination underlying all of that. Sure, she was fascinated by him, and he her, but there was more. She wanted to understand him?
Sometimes he didn't even understand himself. He was far from a random person, but there were times when he just…..
His eyes grew darker and he looked away momentarily. Was he feeling protective of her? Rape was something that, despite the sadistic things he'd done, he was never comfortable with the idea of. He admitted it with a nod and a shrug. "Mooncrest is no place for a rat to live, much less a pretty girl like yourself. It's not even good for criminals anymore." That damned vigilante was mowing them down quicker than a child put away candy. Of course, he was deflecting her question a bit, giving a half answer to keep her interest monopolized. Never mind that he'd 'saved' her from that other man. Eric didn't know who the guy was, and he didn't care. Honestly, it felt good just to kill him. To have that power over him. He stood up, leaving the gun on the window sill, and went over to her. "Come with me?" he asked.
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