A/N: I know, I know. I'm a terrible writer at doing story fics and routinely keeping them updated. I'm trying trust me, life's always been getting ahead of me and haven't found any time, but I'm off college until September now, so hopefully I'll get a few chapter updates in before then.
This is a oneshot that wormed itself into my brain after re-watching Chained for the seven millionth time. Enjoy reading :)
-MissMushy
Anger rose up inside him as he stared down at the cuffs that circled around his wrists. They weren't the traditional mandatory police style cuffs with the three links in between; they were the kind that had the rigid middle to stop your hands from getting too close together or too far apart. In the middle there was a hole about the size of a dime that had a chain running through and was padlocked to the heavier set chain that fitted snug around his waist; immobilizing any arm movement that he had.
The cuffs was so tight around his wrists that they were left sore and bloody within the first hour that he had them on. The waist chain wasn't any better and now after three hours of being restrained like this, it started to rub the skin raw through the thin tee that he was wearing.
He huffed out a frustrated breath and looked around at the bland walls of the interrogation room that he had been situated in before settling his gaze onto the two way mirror with a crazed look in his eyes. "You know guys; you should really come in here to stare at me rather than in there." He shouted at the top of his lungs and pulled at the cuffs. "You want to know how I managed to do it huh? How I managed to get all those girls to come back with me after a night out huh?"
"Or maybe you're wondering why I carved a pentagram into the girls' backs?" The man spoke crazily, with a wide eyed look across his face.
He returned to scowling at the cuffs for a long time before he heard the door unlocked from the opposite side and slowly opened to reveal a man that looked to be around fifty with greying, military style cut hair. As the man walked around the room he left an air of authority around him and had a posture as stiff as a board.
"The pentagram killer." The man stated, finally taking the seat opposite him and stared steadfastly at him.
"So, I've heard that's what you guys dubbed me, Agent Gibbs." He spoke gleefully yet tried to scare the Gibbs with saying his name when it wasn't uttered a single word around him. "I guess though after eight years of not even having one single piece of evidence and only bodies would do that to you. Needing a name to vent your frustrations out on while all the time I managed to lure another girl to her ultimate demise."
"Thirty five girls, if I remember correctly, although it might be something more around fifty." He boasted. "Silly little girls, they were so easily lead, like a stray puppy would have gotten them to follow it to a dark alley. Do you even know my real name yet Agent Gibbs?"
"Anthony Dimitri DiNozzo Junior; born in Long Island, New York in 1980. Abusive childhood from the looks of the hospital visitations; diagnosed as Schizophrenic at the age of twelve; placed in a mental health institution at the age of fourteen when your mother saw you kill the family pets in the back yard. Released at eighteen; under orders of keeping on the meds they had sorted out. Stayed with your parents and on meds until 2001, when you ran away and went off your meds. The next year was your first kill; an eighteen year old girl out celebrating her birthday." Gibbs recited from his memory of the file that he memorized.
"I'm surprised. You do your homework Agent Gibbs, I bet I hit a sore subject with you don't I? Shannon and Kelly isn't it? They were murdered while you were in Kuwait. How old was Kelly again? Eleven?" Anthony taunted the man.
"Eight." Gibbs growled under his breath.
"My apologies, it's been such a long time since I've researched you. All though; the last I heard you had just came out of a coma and thought you were injured in Kuwait just after the news of your dear girls." Tony baited slightly.
"I don't have to be here DiNozzo; we've got everything we need on you. You screwed up in your work; you left us DNA because Sarah Miller fought back. She didn't want to die, not when she was only nineteen. We have DNA connecting you to here murder, your calling card connecting all the other victims to you. The jars of the girls' thumbs within your home. You're just lucky that Virginia and D.C. have abolished the chair and lethal injection; you're never going to see the outside of a prison cell for the rest of your life. How does it feel knowing that you're going to be confined to a eight by eleven foot cell for twenty three hours a day and that one hour a day you're out, you'll be under so many guards that if you even blink the wrong way, they will drag your ass back to your cell and leave you there to rot." Gibbs taunted back.
Tony looked down to his knees, wondering how he never thought of everything that lay in front of him. He sighed and looked back up to Gibbs, gazing into the older man's eyes. "I'll tell you all the names of my victims if you talk with the prison to get me an hour extra yard time a week. I don't care if I have to be chained up like a monkey."
"You have a lot of guts to be asking for deals when if you did your crimes in another state you'd be sentenced the chair so fast your head will spin." Gibbs retorted back.
"I`m only human Gibbs, we all want some luxuries in life." Tony replied back and smirked at the older man.
"I'll see what I can do." Gibbs grumbled under his breath and stalked out of the interrogation room, leaving Tony to stare at the four walls for another couple of hours.