"I don't believe you."
"Believe whatever you want, Sebastian, but I'm telling you the truth."
Sebastian narrowed his eyes at Stefano who walked ahead of him.
They found a potential ride back into Krimson City who bought them both coffees for the road when Stefano had the idea that they could walk the rest of the way. Twenty minutes they barely spoke to each other, or even acknowledged one another. Sebastian held in all of his rage, until now, and he decided to ask Stefano questions that the man seemed to ignore and redirect.
"Seriously," Sebastian said.
Stefano glanced over his shoulder, a grin stretched across his face. "I am. Why can't you believe me?"
"You lied to me since the moment we met, why the hell would I believe a word you'd say?"
Stefano shrugged his shoulders. "Ruben also lied."
"You think my answer would be different toward him too?"
"You liked him more."
"I didn't like either of you," Sebastian corrected, "I simply tolerated the both of you."
Stefano chuckled. "Looks like we have a thing in common then. You're not in anyway artistic, Sebastian, nor are you creative. You're actually quite a boring friend , and sometimes I ask myself why anyone would even want to be with you? Although I'm not surprised Myra wants you, she's quite boring too—"
"Say another word about my wife, and I'll shoot you, unless you forgot I have a gun on me."
"I also have a gun," Stefano said, pulling it out and waving it at him before placing it back into his coat. "I'm just saying it like it is. I'm simply surprised, is all."
"And I'm surprised people like your art," Sebastian commented.
Stefano's gaze grew dark, but he turned way to hide whatever angry expression was etched on his face. "And that's why I said you're not creative. Only creative people would understand my particular set of skills. Don't be insulted, Sebastian, I'm sure there are other things that you might be good at. From your age, you might have discarded any real talent for your lackluster job."
"Being a detective is not lackluster."
"To you maybe, but the thought of it makes me want to sleep."
Sebastian stopped on the dirt path, closed his eyes, and had to hold off the urge to kill Stefano and bury him in a ditch. It's at least what he deserves for his constant pestering. He didn't know that Stefano could be more annoying when he had no idea that he was a serial killer. The revelation seemed to have made his personality worse than what it was before.
"I was right," Sebastian said, glancing up at Stefano who had stopped several feet away, arching a brow at him, "I should've got you scanned for Narcissistic Personality Disorder."
"That's quite insulting," Stefano said, wrinkling his nose. "Would you say the same for Ruben?"
"He seems more like a psychopath, but maybe bordering on narcissism. I'm not sure yet."
Stefano rolled his eyes. "I do wonder if you should be looked over as well, you're bad habit have torn your mentality apart for years now."
"We've only known each other for a year."
"I can tell you have been degrading for longer since knowing you. Maybe you need some time off, get a massage, soak in a bath, sleep in for a few days."
Sebastian glared at Stefano who didn't bother hiding his condescending tone. "I'm not taking advice from a man who cuts off his model's heads and sticks flowers into them."
Stefano looked up, placing his hands together. "Ah, yes, thank you for reminding me of my recent work. It was splendid, a magnificent piece of glorious art. I would love to continue my work once you're off my trail."
He could barely believe that Stefano honestly thinks he's going to get away with what he did. And he's even confessing to doing it again, possibly numerous of times. He lasted this long, so did Ruben. If they aren't caught, it would be a waste, and he'd know he failed at his work if he let them get away.
"After this, you're going to jail, including Ruben."
Stefano tilted his head. "You believe that?"
"I wouldn't let you and Ruben walk off just because we were friends," Sebastian said, gritting his teeth, he still had the urge to take his gun out and shoot Stefano. Maybe then it would stop his growing headache that was throbbing on the side of his head.
Stefano sighed, and they continued their walk for another hour. Both not saying much to each other, and mostly enjoying their silence. They came upon a house by the border of the city. It was a large, stone building with vines crawling along the side of the house, it was not cared for by the overgrown grass and thick grime covering the windows.
"You live here?" Sebastian asked, a little surprised since Stefano had a way with decent pressed and overpriced clothes and was apparently narcissistic. It was the last place he'd look for Stefano, but since it was decrepit and empty looking, maybe it was a good fit for him. He didn't want to be obvious if he was on the run.
Stefano didn't go through the front, and was ignoring Sebastian. He checked the dust covered doorknob, it didn't budge, but when he pushed his weight against the door, it gave in.
"Come on in, detective," Stefano said, giving Sebastian a mocking grin.
Sebastian followed after him, he reached for his gun when he closed the door. It was dark inside the house, and a strong scent of mildew clung to the dry air that surrounded them. A coldness seemed to seep from the walls, but he was thinking maybe it was from the mold within its confines.
"This way," Stefano sang, before chuckling.
In the dark, he could tell now that Stefano was a serial killer. He seemed more like it when he was hidden in shadow. He had a charming lilt to his voice, as if it beckoned others with its smoothness, while his laugh was sardonic at the least. He was quite the psychopath, hiding in plain sight, acting the part. It still sent a bad taste in Sebastian's mouth that he had let Stefano into his home, near his daughter, the same goes with Ruben who had a lack luster presence and personality, who kept to himself, and held his secrets close in hand so no one could see what he truly was.
Stefano stood by a staircase down a long hallway, the floor was soft from a red carpet, and the walls were brown with old paintings hanging up, the eyes of the people inside of them were hollow and lost to time.
"What's down there?" Sebastian asked, eyeing Stefano suspiciously.
Stefano rolled his eyes at the familiar look. "The basement, what else?"
"Quit talking shit and tell me the truth."
"I did tell you the truth. You can stay up here if you want, I mean, admire the dark halls and empty rooms. Whatever makes you happy." Stefano walked down the steps into the basement of the house.
Sebastian reeled in his rage that teetered back and forth and followed after him. It grew colder in the basement, and the smell of mildew and stagnancy grew thick. Stefano, who obviously stayed in the house for an extended time, walked the halls with a proficient memory.
They entered a large room that was designed for Stefano's purpose's. Sebastian did not like what he was looking at. There were pictures hanging on the walls where a red light shown them more clearly. He strode toward them, his heart racing with the implication of how many people Stefano had taken and killed for his precious art.
"I can't believe I was friends with psychopaths," Sebastian says out loud, disbelief clinging to each word as the pictures were altogether gruesome from whatever sick creativity came from Stefano's mind.
Stefano chuckled lightly, he stood near a red leather couch and sat down. "We were convincing enough to fool you."
Sebastian frowned. How true that statement was, they were hidden behind lies they created for the public, for their work ethics, for friends that weren't truly their friends. A sharp pang in his chest couldn't rid the disbelief nor the simmering rage. "Did you know?" he asked, staring at Stefano and watching his expression become complacent at what he meant by the question.
"About Ruben?" The last time they both saw him was in front of his machine beneath Beacon Mental Hospital, and of course inside The MOBIUS Facility, being experimented on along with Leslie Withers. Ruben was the same as Stefano, except he wasn't as flamboyant, but intelligent that he knew he could get away with what he was doing. They both knew, and they fooled him for a year and several months. "No. But there was something peculiar about his upbringing. I didn't figure he was the serial killer ravaging the outskirts."
How could they? Ruben didn't act like he'd be into killing people, torturing them, pulling their skin apart, and mentally breaking most of them. He had used patients from Beacon, patients he spoke to himself, he studied, and ultimately, he decided to use for whatever sick experiments to conduct on his machine.
STEM.
He was friends with two distinct and different psychopaths that fooled him. Sebastian couldn't be more disappointed in himself. He was angry, and all he could feel was defeat at the hand of two of his...friends.