A/N: Okay, so I decided to divide this into a couple of chapters. But don't worry…it's only a few chapters and it's already all written up.

Disclaimer: I'd love to own Albel or Fayt…I could have Albel living in my closet so I could sic him on people that annoy me.

Fayt was less than thrilled when the warden phoned him the next day to come visit Albel. Everyone was terrified of him, it seemed. Even the ones who were supposed to be keeping him locked up and out of trouble. The prison guards weren't supposed to be so afraid of a prisoner that they refused to break up fights. Fayt wasn't afraid of Albel. Sure he was a killer, but he was also insufferably smug and arrogant and much of Fayt's fear was replaced by irritation with the man.

Fayt would have flatly refused to return, but he had been contacted by his old criminology teacher, Mr. Woltar. It seemed that most of the criminologists and psychologists were itching for an interview with the infamous Albel Nox. He was still all over the media and the public wanted to know everything about what made the killer tick. Many respected names in the field desperately wanted a chance at an interview with him, but Albel had insisted that only a relatively new graduate could interview him. That had been Fayt. And Albel had insisted after that that only Fayt would be allowed back. If anything was ever found out about Albel, Fayt would have to do it.

Fayt sighed heavily. He didn't like interviewing Albel. Albel gave him the creeps. But he supposed it was his duty to get the answers everyone wanted. Fayt felt imminently unqualified for the interview and he had always wondered why a recent graduate like him would get the first chance of interviewing the Kirlsa Killer. But now he knew. It was because Albel liked that Fayt lacked experience. Fayt was younger than him and he felt like he could dominate the bluenette.

Fayt settled himself back into his seat in the interview room. He was just an ordinary college graduate. He was young, inexperience, rather naïve. No one was there to tell him how to resist Albel's taunts. He looked down at the table, green eyes glimmering with shame. He should know better than to let Albel get under his skin, but he had. And now it would be difficult for the killer to ever take him seriously as an interviewer. It was hopeless. He didn't know why he had come.

"New shirt just for me?" Albel purred.

Fayt looked up with a frown. He was dressed as he always was, in jeans and a t-shirt. "No," he muttered.

Albel flopped down in the other chair. "Ah, must just be the narcissism talking," he said regretfully. "How am I ever going to know if you dress so nice just to please me or if it's my imagination?"

"It's all your imagination," Fayt growled. "I've worn the same thing the last two times I was here."

"Different shirt," Albel countered.

Fayt looked at him skeptically. "Whatever. Let's just get started."

A slow smirk spread across Albel's face as he leaned across the table. "Let's talk about you today, Dr. Leingod."

Fayt frowned. "I'm interviewing you, idiot. I have nothing to tell you about me."

Albel's eyes narrowed. "Oh, but you've already told me so much." He set his arms down on the table with a heavy clunk from the handcuffs. He rested his elbows on the table and curled his fingers beneath his chin. He studied Fayt intently. "I already know that you have a girlfriend," he began.

Fayt snorted. "Oh come off it. You're not going to startle me like that again. Knock it off. We need to talk about when you started hating women so much."

Albel ignored him. He tipped his head to one side. "You've got a girlfriend, but you never spend much time with her. You've never so much as kissed her. You're still a virgin, aren't you?"

"None of your business," Fayt snapped, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Albel nodded sagely. "Yep, definitely still a virgin." His voice dropped to a whisper. "It doesn't have to be this way, Fayt."

Fayt recoiled in horror as Albel began detailing what he would do to the bluenette if they were ever alone. "That's disgusting," he whispered. His whole face was red now.

Albel smiled and shook his head. "You'd enjoy it." His eyes slid shut with a pleased look on his face. "You'd like feeling helpless when I pin you against the wall and strip you naked."

"Stop it!" Fayt practically shouted. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. "You wanted me to interview you so if you want me to stay, you're going to have to give me an interview."

Albel leaned back in his seat and raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't this provide you with plenty of information to work with?" He licked his lips. "It should show you exactly what kind of person I am."

"A pervert," Fayt said savagely.

Albel shrugged. "Maybe so." He indicated Fayt's notebook with a toss of his head. "You don't want to write down in that diary of yours that I offered to fuck you. God knows you need to get laid. Maybe you'll stop being so uptight."

Fayt rolled his eyes. "No thank you," he said stiffly.

Albel yawned and jiggled his legs beneath the table. Fayt was no fun. He was such a prude. Just how did Fayt think he was going to get anything from Albel if he wasn't going to offer anything in return? Fayt could at least offer to play along. But Fayt couldn't even do that. He was far too sensitive and easily upset. And Albel was actually going easy on him.

Fayt eyed Albel carefully. "Well?" he asked. "Are you going to tell me anything?"

Albel looked down at his fingernails. "Not unless you play my game."

"This isn't a game," Fayt snapped.

Albel heaved a sigh. "Look, fool, I'll spell it out for you. If I don't want to talk, you'll have to find ways of making me talk. For some criminals, that means sending in a pretty blonde to interview them. But since I hate women, you'll need to find some other means of persuading me."

Fayt flushed. "I-I don't know what you mean."

"Sure you do." Albel fixed Fayt with a half-lidded gaze. "I'll ask you about your life and then you can ask me about mine. It's a fair trade."

Fayt took a deep breath and eyed Albel carefully. Albel was watching him patiently. It was fair trade. Information for information. And it wasn't the worst thing Albel could think to ask for. Fayt nodded slowly. "Okay," he said quietly.

Albel grinned wickedly. "Tell me about your family, fool. And it better be a nice long story if you want me to tell you much of anything."

Fayt sighed, but reluctantly he began telling Albel about his family. His mother and father, the genetic scientists. His girlfriend Sophia, the fashion design student. Albel seemed a little annoyed to hear about Sophia, but Fayt included her anyway. He didn't have much to tell about his parents. They were always working and they rarely spent time with him.

"My turn," Albel said gruffly. "My dad was a police officer. My mom died when I was young and my step-mom was a bitch. Stupid blonde bimbo always harping about her looks. She made me do everything around the house so she wouldn't have to break a nail or break a sweat." Albel's lips curved into a snarl. "She poisoned my own father against me. He was so sure that she was an angel and I was just a bratty son. I've wanted to kill her ever since she showed up. But even though my father started treating me like dirt, I loved him. I put up with her commands because my father was happy with her. But when he died, it was all over. She blamed me for his death. Said that if I hadn't been such an ungrateful son, he wouldn't have been shot in the line of duty." Albel smirked. "So, since he wasn't there to stop me…I followed her when she went out shopping and I killed her. She was my first victim. They never found out who she was because I messed her up so badly. When anyone asked, I told them she ran off with some rich businessman and they all believed me."

Albel glanced over at Fayt, noticing the young man's pencil hovering over the pages of his notebook. But Fayt wasn't writing. He was too busy staring at Albel in almost shock.

Albel sighed and rubbed the side of his head. "You've got a family and a girlfriend. I guess you wouldn't understand. All those girls disgust me. Especially the blondes. Their spray-tans and their fake smiles. Gold diggers, most of them. Bitches, whores. They put on a layer of make-up to hide the ugliness within. They're wretched creatures, using sex as a means to get whatever they want. It's despicable."

Fayt sighed. "Albel, not all women are like that. You murdered a great many honors students, young mothers, animal rights activists…young women with purpose."

"Bah," Albel said scornfully. "Your girlfriend is just like all the others, shallow and vapid. Fashion design," he scoffed. "All they think about is clothes."

Fayt scribbled a few words down in his notebook. "Alright then, I have your story. I guess we're done then."

Albel looked at him mildly. "For now, anyway."

Fayt frowned. "Don't even bother summoning me again just so you can mess around with me. I won't come back unless it's important."

"Fair enough, fool." Albel stood, his ruby eyes locked on Fayt. "Pray that we do not meet again." He began to laugh, a wicked and deranged laugh, his eyes wide with glee.

Fayt barely suppressed a shudder as he headed out of the interview room. Albel's ringing laugh haunted his steps. Yes, he did not care to meet up with Albel again.