Interview with the Negaduck

"I see..." said the criminal, turning to face the boy. The boy's face was palpably shivering in the dark cold of the room. The criminal remained perfectly still. The light streaming in through little waves as cars passed fell on the criminal's face as he stood over the window of St. Canard tower like God.

The boy spoke, and when he did, it was like wave of sickness passing through the room. "I'm anxious to hear why you believe this, why you... think you're Negaduck, the most famous criminal in history!"

"No," said the criminal. "We can't begin this way. I want to tell you everything about my life, but I wish to begin the way it began with me... How much tape do you have? Enough for the story of a life?"

"Sure, if it's a good enough life. That's only fair, right?"

"Certainly. Well, I hope I give you...a good performance." The criminal moved toward the boy, smiling. He flicked on the light, and the boy winced when the unnatural rays hit his sensitive eyes. The criminal never flinched, merely smiled and looked down at the boy, sitting in his chair. The boy could see the criminal clearly in this light, and what he saw fascinated him. A thin form, and long black hair and delicate hands that showed clearly the blue veins they encased. The criminal sat in his chair, farther away from the table then the boy's, and spoke. "Are you going to prepare the tape?"

Breathlessly, the boy whispered, "All I have to do is press play."

"Shall we, then?"

The criminal stared at the ceiling, and sighed, smoothing out a few of the wrinkles on his face, and began. "I was born in 1975, in Duckberg. My parents were very rich, and I would have done well to stay put, but it wasn't in my nature. I was critisized my whole life after about age five for being too...restless?"

"You didn't like being rich?" Asked the boy, as if he thought it were not possible.

"I didn't like anything. By the time I was twelve, I had it in my mind to commit suicide. I thought death could give me peace, but it was only killing that gave me peace.

When I was ten, my mother bought me a litter of kittens from a store near where we lived. She was very ill, and couldn't go very far from home without father's help, and this was her independent project. Once I saw the large, watery eyes of those innocent creatures, I couldn't resist. I loved to squeeze their necks and see how they squealed."

If you like the story thus far, review and there will be more. For those reading Jurassic Park works, they WILL CONTINUE!