Disclaimer. I didn't create any characters belonging to Dexter.
Dexter vs...Louis?
"This is about a game!" I yell.
"I didn't like that fucking idea because my wife was killed by a god damn serial killer. Why the fuck would I play a game being one. Do I look like the person who plays fucking games." I scream. This pathetic idiot wants to play with me. Wants to ruin my life over an idiotic game. I'm going to teach this mother fucker a lesson. I'm going to put the fear of fucking god into him. I'm going to show him a monster. My Dark Passenger is now running the show.
"Louis, listen to me very carefully. Let me give you a little history lesson. When I was three years old, me and my brother watched our mother get killed. She was chopped up into little pieces by a chainsaw. We were there. We watched her die. The people who did it left us there in that container. For two whole days in blood an inch thick. Brian Moser was sent to a psychiatric home. He became a doctor. Who also become the serial killer know as the Ice Truck Killer. After he almost killed my sister and then committed suicide, my wife was killed by the Trinity Killer. So excuse me if I don't give a flying fuck about your stupid fucking game!"
"Let me make this exceedingly clear. You've gotten on my bad side, Louis. You are in my cross hairs. So here is what you are going to do. You are going to quit your job at Metro PD, quit seeing Jamie, and leave town."
"Your pushing me to my limit, Louis. And I really just want to snap your neck."
Louis gasps for air. His eyes open in shock. He can't understand. He can't possibly understand. He's scared. My Dark Passenger is out and he is instinctively trying to get out from under my stare. I've accomplished my mission. I've terrified the living fuck out of this pitiful excuse for a human being. But I want to leave him a message.
I reach out and quickly grasps his right hand. Snapping his ring finger to the side. Dislocating and breaking his finger in a single motion. Pinned to the wall. Out of breath. Choking on his spit and saliva. Pain is radiating throughout his body. Blood is quickly filling his cheeks in terror. Urine is flowing down his leg. Tears streaming from his eyes. He's never been hurt before. This is all too new and real. And he has a very low tolerance for pain.
I pat his cheek and darkly chuckle, "Just a little parting gift to remember me by." Then silently exit the room. A deadly smirk appears on my face.
Yep just a little parting gift.