Scarlet Psychosis
Summary: He wondered sometimes when he stared at his reflection in the mirror, if he was insane and then he'd forget until he didn't even know who he was staring at anymore.
Disclaimer: I still don't own The Mentalist.
Warnings: Death.
A/N:
I'm hoping to have this collection completed by Sunday, but you never know with me—I get caught up in so many different projects. Thanks for all the reviews, and alerts—you guys are amazing!!!!
Mania:
An excessive and intense interest in or enthusiasm for something,
The scarlet filled the crevices of his worn hands; he watched the liquid strain against the rubber glove, forming red droplets every time he shifted his hands slightly with idol curiosity and excitement.
His obsession went above maiming his pretty victims, his knife was his paintbrush with the way he carefully slid it in and out of the paint, listening to the sounds of a million guttural screams until he had his masterpiece watch as he made his signed the piece as his own, a giant red face with its crooked eyes and upturned mouth.
Then he'd leave his beautiful masterpiece of life and death, and he'd come back to watch the eccentric Patrick Jane be eluded again, watch the man break into further pieces than he currently was already in as Teresa Lisbon tried to reign her consultant to be more "justice" considerate worthy instead of "mercy" considerate; and he 'd laugh because when Patrick Jane eventually did catch him, and he eventually stepped from the shadows to reveal himself, it would be for the blood of Jane, a rarity that he wanted above all to try as his signature stared on in pride.