This is my first time publishing on and I implore you to be brutally honest with my work so I may improve, if you don't like it please don't be worried to tell me, I want to improve on my writing and if that means learning from my mistakes so be it. Also if you happen to like it it'd be a huge help if you could tell me what was good so I can add more of that.
It has come to my attention people are unsure who is being referred to, so from now on scenes containing just the killer or his inner monologue or messages he leaves the BAU will be in bold with flash backs in italics. I hope this makes things easier.
Thank you for reading and enjoy
More of a concept
You could look at him. You could hear him when he said hello and if you were to reach out and seize his hand in a firm grasp you could feel skin. Get close enough and you could hear his heart thudding against his chest, perhaps even for the slightest moment swear that he was just like you. But the truth was he really wasn't there. For all his sugar coated words and charming smiles, he was even in his own opinion not human. He guessed he was once upon a time, guessed that something terrible had happened, guessed something perhaps went wrong that left him as he was. Perhaps the worst thing from a human point of view was that he didn't care. The closest he came to human was the cruelty he showed.
"Sshh… listen Lauren your still not here… stop crying Linda I can barely understand you… that's better… yes your daughter is fine, now listen Lauren this is very important… I hate hurting children but don't think I won't. I've never actually killed one but if your not here in two hours I'll kill her. I don't think I can forgive you for that."
It wasn't that he really liked hurting people. He could honestly say that he'd never killed a person. Been the catalyst for people's deaths… well that was a whole other story. One that if you asked him he'd gladly tell you. But you'd never guess. After all he was a marvellous man in most people's eyes. For a second which was the longest he needed to keep your attention.
"I have free ranged roasted rabbit with herb French fries. Then for entrées I have a raspberry sorbet, a goat's cheese Gnocchi and a Poulet à la Marengo. The soup tonight is Vichyssoise served with black truffles. The pasta for tonight is a squid ravioli in a lemon grass broth." This was his world for the night, one of beauty and illusions. The people here didn't care about him more than he looked to belong. Of course they thought he was one of theirs. Most didn't think they could be tricked. They dealt with cutthroats and backstabbers daily. So perhaps these people were the hardest to deal with. So it was hilarious they hadn't noticed him. He didn't like smoked duck and mashed squash, he didn't care that the New York times called it a 'wonderful yet mysterious dish'. He didn't see why these people subjected themselves to such strange dishes. But he wasn't here to eat. So he ate it without tasting it. These people didn't like him; to them his name was Maurice Soyder an investment banker from Michigan. He'd never been to Michigan and didn't plan on any time soon but it was as good a place as any. He'd never been to Rosaline's before so he allowed himself to absorb the atmosphere while occasionally making a dashingly witty comment to amuse the five people he was with.
"So what do you think of David Raleigh getting the Leopold case?"
"Don't know how he swung that one. Man has no taste. Did you see him yesterday, the allure of subtle off white colouring still escapes him he still insists coming in glowing." He had no idea who David Raleigh was or if he wore white shirts but they all laughed and nodded in agreement.
"I heard Sarah Newport is raising funds."
"What for?"
"I don't know, bare footed little tribesmen somewhere. You know the type."
"Surely she has better things to do than raise money for them."
"I think it's sweet. It's important people care about the world."
"I agree; this world has fallen to far from basic moral values that our forefathers took for granted. To truly make a difference we must return to these basic principles of respect before we solve anything." He'd read it in a magazine somewhere but they all looked at him like he'd said the right thing.
"I think that we should donate some money."
"You donate money to every lost loser you see. If they were really poor why wouldn't they just get a job?"
"They can't always."
"Everybody can get a job."
"Do you know I regularly watch people kill themselves?"
"No, what about those with back pains?"
"I get back pains but I still go to work don't I? Too pay for you to go to places like this."
"I enjoy watching them struggle and eventually they all do it."
"I like donating money to abused animals. I donate a hundred dollars every month to a delightful little shelter near us."
"Oh I might start doing that."
"It's so sweet. You should really consider it."
"I'm going to have you and you kill yourself. I've also been on Thorazine for about five years now." He wasn't sure if he was speaking any more but he didn't care. They'd end up the same. "Here take my business card." He grinned passing it to the man he was facing.
"Very nice."
"Just got them printed yesterday. Beautiful aren't they?"
"Very nice." He repeated
She'd been crying for about ten minutes as he tapped a pen against the table. He wanted her to shut up but he'd worked too hard just to waste it. The rope noose still hung from the ceiling.
"Really dear, it's not that hard. Just jump, I've tied it in a remarkable good way. You'll just break your neck."
"But… but…"
"But… but… nothing dear. You're doing the world a fantastic favour. It'll be very fast and if you don't I'll take this here gun and shoot… what was his name? Rod… something? Then I'll tell everybody you know. No husband, no settlement. You'll end up with nothing. Just like those 'tribesmen'. But even less because you'll be labelled as a whore."
"I… why are you doing this?"
"I'm not doing anything. Not yet anyway." He grinned
"I…" She kept sobbing as he stood dusting his suit off. He'd found it in a fine little tailor's just off 44th, he'd been shocked that they were so reasonable with prices. He was very fond of the cut. She stood, lips still trembling as she walked on top the step. He didn't leave until she had the noose around her neck. He walked out slowly; he heard the crack as he shut the door singing to himself as he entered the night air. Nobody else was around to hear him but tomorrow the world would measure their loss and still move on as always that's the only reason he was able to operate so well. Nobody really cared, not after too long anyway.
Somewhere beyond the sea, somewhere waiting for me, my lover stands on golden sands and watches the ships that go sailing.
