Get Psycho

Get Psycho

Chapter 19: Coffee flavored tears

written by: satanspinner67

Agent Tyler was silent in the near calm room. Most everyone had gone home, gone out for a call, or was working on his case, looking for another suspect, maybe a witness. And here he was, stuck at his desk, waiting for Anton to get back with Mr. Son.

It had been almost twenty minutes and the wait was becoming restless.

The chair supporting him made a sighing creak as he shifted, putting his hand under his well-shaved chin before sifting through some papers lain out on his desk.

His mind wondered again to the case at hand. Something in the whole situation scared him. Actually frightened him to the point of losing sleep and a slight paranoia. Every corner he turned was a hazard, every door frame he passed made him think that maybe…maybe it would be the last time he ever saw the fleeting place.

The agent shifted again uncomfortably as a photo of a young lady appeared behind a sheet of notes in his webby hand writing.

Her mangled body painted in blood under her ripped sun dress. The pit of her insides seemed endless between her spread arms. And her eyes were merely a set of lifeless glass orbs staring out of that soulless corpse. There was nothing left of her inside that crimson mess, no lingering fear or human emotion.

Not a thing…

“Excuse me, “ He jumped at the voice but turned calmly to face young security guard.

As their eyes met, the standing man seemed shaken, his hands wringing each other nervously. The agent turned his attention to the pale face of his colleague

“Yes?” he answered.

“That man you brought in-from the Finch case…well, he is getting upset. He says he wants to talk to you.”

The older male felt annoyance stir inside of him and he let out a sigh, voicing such an emotion.

As he stood, the guard turned and made his way back to the holding cells.

What could he possibly want? The investigator had already given him the privilege of seeing his ‘love’ again, not to mention he was kind enough to stop questioning for the night.

Only a man like mister No Ouji could boldly demand more.

As they made their way down the hall, the whispers of other, less permanent inmates settled to a hush.

They found the third (and last) cell and stopped as the guard began to fuss with the keys ready in his hand.

Agent Tyler’s eyes found the form of his prime suspect standing rigid near the bars. His eyes were wrapped in midnight shadow and his breath completely silent as he said nothing.

When the young man finally got the door open, he reached in, and snatched the thick hand cuff chain into his palm, pulling Vegeta out of the cramped space by his bound wrists.

Quietly the agent and Sayian were escorted to a nearby interrogation room.

After they were set down, the guard left the room, closing the door behind him and agent Tyler reached for the half full pack of cigarettes sitting on the table between him and Vegeta.

“What did you want to talk about Mr. Brief?”

The prince bent his head slightly and let his arms relax in their awkward position on his lap. He watched the detective light the ivory stick now between his lips and he smiled to himself as the first peels of smoke curled lazily up the walls.

“It’s been too long.” He said finally.

“What are you talking about?” Vegeta could tell that patience was wearing thin in the other man as he lent back slowly in his chair, almost not listening.

“I’m talking about Goku. You were supposed to send for him. Now,” The Sayian lifted his head and let his dark eyes meet the agent’s before he continued.

“You are either lied to me about him coming…or he’s in danger.” The last words were stern, sending a slight chill over the human.

“I’m not lying. And I can assure you, your love is perfectly safe. I sent a fellow agent to retrieve him.” The glow of his cigarette grew bright as he sucked in a deep breath.

“So,” Vegeta continued.

“You’re not even going to call this ‘fellow agent’ and check on him? You’re not even going to find out what’s taking so long.”

“I see no reason to.” Said the other man immediately.
There was a moment of silence as Vegeta stared into the unknowing, cocky face of the detective. His detached, uncaring expression flared anger in the prince.

“That’s too bad.” Alert and suddenly curious, Agent Tyler raised his head to glance at Vegeta.

“I could have sworn you were smarter than that.” Vegeta stood gracefully and spread his arms before placing his hand flat on the table, small strands of broken chain hanging from each wrist.

“Oh, well, I never liked you much anyway.”

The detective jumped from his chair and slapped his hands on one side of his waist, his fingers stretching around the leather band and he palms roaming to find his gun.
But he was just too slow.
Vegeta lunged over the table top and grabbed the agent’s collar, slamming him down on the cold surface that stood between them and covering his mouth harshly.

The younger man struggled under his strong hold. Muffled screams burned into his hands and singed a blush over the blonde’s pale cheeks.

The attacker grinned.

“I’m so sorry if I make this too short for you, but I really must get to my Goku, he could be hurt.”

Vegeta tightened his hold on his victim’s mouth as his other hand reached for the cold coffee mug that now rested near his black boot. Quickly, he picked it up and held it in the air over the detective’s face.

Icy drops of black liquid graced the blonde’s forehead and ran down to mix in the forgotten tears streaming from his tightly clenched eye lids.

Ah, to be so blissfully hopeful and unaware.

The dark haired man brought the porcelain cup down on the face below him. The sound of his nose being crushed under the blow and the small, unnoticeable crack of the weapon shot into his brain and his smile widened.

He raised the cup even higher and brought it crashing down again and again.

Soon the dry snaps became a blood symphony of smacks and sloshes, the hot vibrations of screams against his hand had worn into silence and he went still, staring passed his crimson splashed lashes to take in the beauty of such a killing.

And, yes, he was quite dead….without notice or question, in fact.

Vegeta wrapped his long coat securely around himself before glancing at the twitching limbs of his victim.

Well, he couldn’t just leave without making his mark.

Quietly he grabbed one of the hands out of the small pile of breakable shards and firmly grasped one of the shaky fingers.

His own brushed against the hard, neglected nail, now raw from the struggle.

Without second thought, the prince ripped it out from its very roots, giggling at the sound of tearing flesh.

Here they were, alone together. The mirror on the far wall watched them, but no one was behind it to see the private show and no one would see him leave this corpse, cold and lonely.

When he was finish pulling the last finger and toe nail, the Sayian placed them in the order he desired and slipped soundlessly through the small high window in the back of the room.

The night brushed his unmasked face and he walked hastily from the station, ready to save his one and only.

To be continued....

SS67: I love you all and thanks for reading. Oh, and sorry it was kinda short…