Psychological Control

The red-haired woman was Jessica, stepmother to the boy called Tommy. The boy's father was obviously a successful man, as they lived in a well-policed, upscale neighbourhood and seemed a homely family, with Jessica only showing her red-haired witch-like true colours in front of tommy when the male owner was away.

It was too dangerous to stalk a target in a neighbourhood like this, with roadside surveillance cameras at every turn. If the family of the deceased called the police after the death of the target, the first thing the police would check would be the recordings from these security cameras.

David obviously knew this all too well, and he didn't try to stop when he first entered the lot in this neighbourhood; he identified which building Jessica's house was by where she had parked, and then sped the car through Jessica's house, eventually parking two blocks away.

He took me back on foot to the café opposite Jessica's house and sat there all afternoon. Not only did he observe Jessica's every move from the uncurtained, living room window that faced out onto the street, but he also heard a lot of gossip from the housewives who drank afternoon tea around him.

The housewives, who loved parenting, mentioned Jessica not a few times, and she seemed to be the latest hot topic around here. A great example of a subordinate secretary who has made it to the top and turned a sparrow into a phoenix.

I would have thought that David would have been more cautious in his next offence because he had only just escaped from a joint FBI and police search. The longer it took to get away, the more likely it was that the distress message in the video I uploaded to the tube would be discovered.

But what made me miscalculate was that David was very confident in his modus operandi these days, as his exposure this time was not due to the discovery of the place where the body was buried, but just a coincidence like getting a ticket for parking wrong. So, in the rush of wanting to tie me to his chariot, on the third day of stalking Jessica, David offered to do it.

When it came down to it, for some reason it was hard for my heart to waver too much. It was as if watching a stranger face a life-threatening crisis didn't really matter much to me. I was becoming more and more singular in my emotional appeals, influenced by Brian's personality.

As he prepared to leave the house, David brought a bag containing a tennis racket, his knives and the tools he would need to clean up the scene of the crime. And the fishing line, which he uses most of the time, was tucked away in his pocket. I was still wearing the hoodie with the mask. Only the trousers had been replaced with a pair of gym trousers that I usually wear to the gym.

It was dusk, the time of day when Jessica, who liked to play the role of the good wife and mother, went to pick up tommy from school alone after work. David pulls up in my rental car on Jessica's way from home to tommy's school.

"You know what? How could I have exposed my identity so easily if it wasn't for those stupid police who applied for the help of the bau team in the first place. Resulting in me having to roam around like a bereaved dog today!" David's mental state was unbelievably excited before he committed the crime, and he couldn't stop talking as he sat in the car waiting for his prey.

My heart skipped a beat and I could only pretend to be unconcerned, propping my head on one hand and looking out the window at the hordes of students walking past. I tapped my fingers on the window and said, "Oh, bau? That famous fbi division that specialises in serial killers? Since they found out who you were, how did you escape the search then?"

Thanks to the previous FBI agent's slip of the tongue, I had the idea of learning a little about the bau team. So, I now knew the identity of each agent in this operation team by heart. This is because of their outstanding detection rate, and the FBI's policy of publicising them. The internet was full of detailed information about them.

David didn't see anything wrong with me at all, and with a low chuckle he said, "Maybe they're good at psychoanalysis, but I found that out when they first got involved in the investigation. Only a cocky, arrogant killer would be so easy for them to catch! I made a point of dating a policewoman at the time, and by the time she first let slip that I'd bounced from my original city and fled to Miami."

"Oh..." I returned noncommittally, "And when did you start killing people?" In an effort not to show my disinterest, I casually asked the question while my mind began to recall information about the group.

The bau team was made up of a bunch of geniuses from all walks of life and could be described as the little angels that saved police everywhere from serial killer cases.

The most notable of these was a senior chief profiler named Jason Gideon, who I've seen give presentations to university psychology departments everywhere on various channels, and although he's not exactly in his prime anymore, he's still the most dangerous to our kind. This is because of his vast knowledge, his vast experience, and his excellent profiling skills.

Then there was Aaron Hotchner, who headed up the bau team and I'm told was a sharpshooter. Then there was a Derek Morgen, who was very good in close quarters combat. Other than that, there was really no more character at bau who could pose a threat to David.

The youngest genius, the young Doctor, Spencer Ryder, holds three PhDs (in chemistry, mathematics and engineering), as well as a BA in psychology, philosophy and sociology, has an IQ of 187 and an extraordinarily clear memory. It was just a shame that his physical skills were a concern.

David snorted and pulled back my attention. He continued, "Haven't you always wondered what my life was like five years ago? ...Five years ago, I was just a cashier at a burger joint, working early and late every day just to support my alcoholic mother!"

"Oh...and then what?" Everything he said was so close to my suspicions that it made me interested in his words again.

David glanced at me, "And then she died. I didn't kill her, of course. Sudden death from a myocardial infarction due to excessive drinking. Oh, it just so happened that my girlfriend had also broken up with me at that time and turned around and married a rich middle-aged businessman."

"So you chose to kill her?" I forced myself to hold back my disgusted revulsion at him and inquire more deeply. The nice illusion of Mike that he had once pretended to be in front of me was long gone.

"That's right! I kidnapped her on her way from work and I didn't want to kill her at first... but I couldn't resist! Hahahaha, that shameless woman with her daily rants against me ...... Then I realised... it's better to be a quiet woman! Not as disgusting and tiresome as my mother!" David's eyes sparkled and he looked like a child who had just gotten a new toy.

"I killed her,...with my own hands! Strangled her with my own two hands! ...Heh, watching her lips turn blue in the choking... her eyes so desperate! Such a quietly beautiful face ...... I wanted to keep her in my memories so I couldn't resist killing one more, after another..." David described his experience excitedly, his eyes still eagerly seeking my approval.

I felt my face stiffen a little and the feeling of revulsion made me swallow uncontrollably. At this point in time, Brian's indifferent disposition towards others was like a protective film that brought me well back from reflexively holding my breath and choking.

I didn't answer his words, but I could feel a faint smile put on my otherwise stiff face...and David looked at me as if he thought that was my answer.

"That twat who followed up my case, it seems her name was something like Elle Greenoway was hot. Unfortunately a woman is a woman, I was watching her break down in panic there because she lost track of me." David got even more smug as he began to share with me his experiences of escaping the FBI.

Speaking of Elle Greenaway, she was also a bau person, a sex crime expert. It did seem right to put this woman in charge of David's case.

Actually Brian's personality wasn't all bad, or at least the effect he sometimes had on me was like a protective armour that was snapped around the periphery of my personality that had become vulnerable in certain circumstances.

If I could one day stay sober enough to perform a personality fusion and actually disabuse Brian of his murderous intent and turn him, or myself, back into a normal person who could fit in, then what did it matter if I carried some sociopathic personality traits? After all, which of those business tycoons and successful people didn't have some sociopathic personality traits?

I had been resistant and defiant to Brian's personality, because for a moment just now, that strange way in which Brian's mind merged with my own, made me change my mind.

If Brian's will to involve me in his bloody path was turned to my advantage, the ego of the sociopathic personality was so strong that this will would also be an advantage in discarding his bloodthirsty desire. And merging my personalities into one would only make my mental environment more stable.

Since Brian had been trying to fuse with me, why didn't I turn the tables on him and do the personality fusion in a way that I stood to dominate?

But now was not the time to think about that. I wonder if the bau team that took over David's case has found the information I left in that video diary, or not. bau, as part of the FBI's National Centre for the Analysis of Violent Crime, has always had a ninety percent or higher detection rate. I can't believe they would just let me, who looks like the most suspicious lead person, off the hook.

It was a bit funny that I, who had shunned bau not so long ago, now wanted them to come to my side immediately.

David had hidden his tracks well, but I hadn't. If they can spot that distress message, it's only a matter of time before they find us.

The best case scenario was that they had already discovered something was wrong and were on their way. That way I wouldn't have to risk going up against this dangerous murderer. But if they haven't found out yet, am I really going to be forced to be an accomplice?

Wouldn't that be the end of all the hard work I'd been doing?

Before I could make up my mind, David had seen the sound of his target. Not far away, Jessica was viciously hitting tommy, who was walking with her head buried, as she turned off the main road into the alley we were in. Damn!

David stopped rambling under his breath for a moment and pulled on the muzzle that had been hanging from his chin. I, too, hastily used my hand to make sure my own mask was indeed on. Was this woman destined to die.

The facts tell us that it's better to take shortcuts and walk down sparsely populated alleys to save time.

I covered the mouth of the terrified boy tommy and took him to the car, knocked out on David's instructions. And the redhead named Jessica had long since passed out from asphyxiation from David's strangulation with fishing line. The whole thing took just under two minutes and they didn't make a sound that would draw attention to themselves.

David sped off in his car towards the countryside, while I had to do what he had told me to do and restrain Jessica and tommy by tying their hands behind their backs. The tape to seal their mouths was taken from his tennis bag.

In the three days since I arrived in Pala Alto, I hadn't been anywhere else with David except for that one trip to the supermarket and the start of stalking this woman. As the car drove further and further out of the way, I had long since lost my adrenaline rush to the location we were in.