The Interrogation

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
When they brought me into the police station to ask me some questions, I was ready to mess with their minds, but when an honest to God Huntress walked in, well let the fun begin.

Submitted: June 12, 2013

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Submitted: June 12, 2013

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It was all over the news. Some public relations wonk representing the police was on the airwaves speaking in a deep, almost whispered tone.

“All I can tell you right now is that we are currently looking at all the leads and have some suspects. As soon as I have more information regarding our continuing investigation on these series of brutal killings, I will let all of you know. In the meantime, thank you for your cooperation.”

He then walked away from the cameras, as reporters shouted after him with more questions. Always more questions. I could sense even through the camera lens that he’s scared and nervous and doesn’t have a damn clue as to what the hell’s going on.

Just a few hours later, they pick me up over on the Boulevard. I had just taken a load out of the dryer and was leaving the Laundromat to head back to my apartment when the cop car quickly pulled to the curb and before I knew it, I’m cuffed and thrown into the back seat. With rights read, I didn’t resist arrest.

Downtown, they escorted me into the interrogation room. I’m then instructed to take a seat on the other side of a long wooden table. I ask the officer, a bored acting Sergeant to please take off the cuffs. He surprisingly obliged then told me two detectives would soon be in to ask some questions. After he left, I sat and rubbed my sore wrists and stared at my reflection in the large mirror on the opposite wall.

Who are they fucking kidding? I thought, It’s obviously a one way mirror.

Someone was watching.

I took in a long, deep slow breath. Almost immediately, I picked up the slight scent of a female from maybe a few months ago. She was like me and I had hoped she had fucked with their heads back then, like I planned to fuck with them now.

I’m dressed pretty casual today, low cut red blouse and skin tight jeans. I still marvel at my appearance. I look pretty hot as a human female, if I do say so myself. I shake my head to whip my long red hair away from my soft porcelain face and wished I had my cigarettes.

I smiled at the mirror. They know that I know they’re watching. Soon they’ll all become bored and someone will come in. After awhile, someone did.

Old guy. Medium height. Kinda chubby. He tried to give me one of those hard ass looks that only works in the movies. As he entered the room and I figured he was going to be the asshole in this human comedy.

“I’m Detective Lewis” he stated in an uneven, unemotional way, “and I have some questions for you.”

“Ask away…Detective.” I hoped he had picked up on the sarcasm.

The old fuck sat down opposite me. I noticed he carried a thin file in which he casually glanced through.

“…And you are?” he began.

“Oh, Detective Lewis,” I began, “don’t play games. You know who I am already. If not then who does the file say I am?”

I seductively smiled, as I fixated my dark green eyes upon him. He quickly fidgeted and involuntarily averted his own eyes away. I knew right then he began to sense my strength and feel the fear and he didn’t even know why.

“Uh… it says…… here…,” he nervously stammered, “that… you are Tabitha Shyler.”

“…And?” I casually replied with an even more alluring smile, while I slowly and sensuously licked my pouty lips, careful not to show my teeth.

It was then I detected beads of perspiration that had begun to condense on his forehead. It glittered slightly under the harsh overhead lights of the interrogation room and it made me somewhat giddy. It was always so easy with the old ones. A few seconds of attention from any young babe and they begin to melt. Meanwhile, he made a feeble effort to continue his line of questioning.

“…you’re an exotic dancer over at that club out by Beowulf Avenue. The Cat’s Meow?”

“Thank you, Detective.”

“For what?” he replied, as an actual frown of puzzlement crossed his face.

“For not calling me a Stripper.” I tilted my head just enough to allow a couple of strands of hair to flirtatiously cover my left eye.

“Well, Ms. Shyler,” he started, “we need to ask you your whereabouts last Friday night.”

We? I amusingly think, figuring his partner was still watching through the mirror and when this fart fails to get anything out of me, then the tag team round will commence and the other will make his or her appearance.

“I was on stage most of that night,” I answered matter of factly, “you can ask the club’s manager.”

“We did,” he replied a little too quickly, “he said you disappeared around ten-thirty that night. Next he saw of you, it was after eleven.”

“Whoa! Gone for a whole half hour!”

“Enough time to slaughter that coed found back behind the ally near your club.”

“Coed?” I innocently asked, “Slaughter?!”

“Don’t you play games,” he sternly stated.

I could begin to detect the slight scent of anger that now mixed in with the fear coming off his body, “we have evidence linking you to this and possibly a half dozen other murders in the area.”

“What evidence?” I casually asked, wishing to God I had a cigarette.

“Traces of the last victim’s blood was discovered just outside of your apartment door.”

“Did you find any trace inside my apartment, Detective?” I coyly asked, then silently cussed myself for being so sloppy that night and letting the animalistic hunger take over my senses and cloud my thinking.

“We can alwaysget a warrant to look inside your apartment, Ms. Shyler,” he sarcastically replied.

“Why Detective Lewis,” I breathlessly countered, as I bent forward to purposely display my cleavage, “you don’t need a warrant, you’re always welcome to search every nook and cranny at my place or even me if you’d prefer.”

His face turned fifty shades of red. I loved it.

Suddenly, the door swung open and some young bitch walked in. Confident. Cocky. Her long blonde hair wound up into a tight bun about as tight as her ass.

Oh, let the fun begin.

“Sorry I’m late,” she lied, “I’m Detective Williams.”

“And you’re going to be the good cop, right?” I flirtatiously cooed. She was kinda cute, but when I took a deep breath her scent hit me four fold. This was no ordinary cop. This one was special, this one was dangerous. This one was a God damn Huntress!

I kept cool. I kept in control. I wasn’t going to freak out and let my guard down. She knew nothing and I definitely won’t allow her to even snatch a glance of what I am.

“We all just want to get to the bottom of these series of murders,” she pathetically said, “that’s all. We thought you could be of help.”

“How cordial of you, Detective Williams,” I, being the smart ass bitch that I am, comment, “you have me abducted off the street, hand cuff me, place me in this claustrophobic room, then send your partner in to accuse me of a series of murders I didn’t commit. Well, excuse me for not being cooperative, cause I can’t help you if I don’t know what the Hell you’re talking about!”

“Well, we did find evidence of the latest victim’s blood that trailed from the crime scene up to the front door of your apartment,” she stated, as he tried to sound so professional, “and we just want to be thorough. Have you seen anyone unusual hanging around your apartment complex recently? Or hear anything out of the ordinary?”

I laugh.

Everyone that hangs around my complex is unusual in one way or another and I hear all kinds of things. Sometimes I even hear things no one else can.”

“What do you mean by that?” the old fuck interrupted, but I didn’t answer and he let it drop.

“Look,” I continued, “you have no evidence on me, so you either charge me falsely or let me go!”

Hey, I watch Law & Order, so I know my rights. The door then slowly swung open and the Sergeant poked his head in.

“Jim! The Captain wants to speak with you.”

Old fuck Lewis nodded then got up from the chair and exited the room, leaving me alone with her. I’m not scared. She won’t do anything. She’s still new at being a Huntress. I can sense it. She hasn’t quite entailed all that it means.

“You wouldn’t mind if you let us examine the clothing in your basket, would you?”

“Go ahead,” I amusingly reply, “but since it just was washed, I doubt you could find anything of significance even if there was anything to find, don’t you think? Just do me a favor and fold it all back when you’re done. Okay, Hon?”

She kept a stoic look on her pretty face.

“Would it be okay if I had a technician come in to get DNA samples off your skin and the clothing you’re wearing?”

I smile and slowly stand up. She inadvertently started to step back and instinctively reached for the gun clipped onto her belt.

“Relax, sweetie,” I try to reassure her in my most comforting voice, “I’m just trying to be cooperative.”

I then stripped off my blouse and slid out of my jeans. Now naked (I don’t wear underwear) I hand over the articles of clothing.

“Go ahead. Knock yourself out,” I breathlessly whisper, “but I request that you be the one to take a skin sample, so where on my body do you want to start? If you don’t know then I could make a suggestion.”

I once again smiled seductively.

Not surprisingly she didn’t take me up on the offer, as her face began to turn a light shade of red which I kinda found endearing. She tried to keep her cool about her but not very successfully.

I glanced over and gave a wink towards the mirror, figuring I’d give whoever was still behind there a good show.

“Please put your clothes back on, Ms. Shyler,” she stated in a wobbly school girl voice that fit her like a tee. I just dropped my clothes onto the table and sat back down and slowly crossed my long shapely legs. She then sat down in the chair vacated by the old fuck and leaned conspiratorially over the table and whispered.

“I know who and what you are. Its just a matter of time before you screw up and I’ll be right there waiting.”

I feign ignorance, as I lean over the table to place my face within inches of hers. My breath faintly brushed her lips as I whisper.

“Detective, I think you’ve been working way too many long hours. You’re tired and delusional. Look, I wish I could help you but I can’t. Now please release me, then I may consider not filing charges against the entire Police department for false detainment.”

I got that one from Criminal Minds.

A slight look of resignation appeared on her face, but she said nothing as she continued to look deeply into my eyes. I sensuously returned her stare, as the minutes ticked by and the silence in the room became deafening.

“A staring contest!” I finally said, breaking that silence, “Awesome! I haven’t had one of those since I was a wee pup in kindergarten.”

This Huntress quickly looked away. I had won the contest but she was now in full blown frightened mode, though she tried to hide that fact from me. She knew, Huntress or not, that I could tear her limb from limb and be out the door and back on the street before any of her luscious body parts even touched the floor. For that realization, she suddenly felt vulnerable.

At that precise moment she wanted to get out of that room faster than I did, but she just reached over and pressed the button on the speaker phone sitting on the table.

“Sergeant! Will you please come in here?”

Our little tryst was finally over, as I slipped my clothes back on while the Sergeant brought back my laundry. (All neatly folded I might add). Detective Williams then escorted me out. With laundry in hand and just before I exited the station, I turned to face her once more.

“Since you know where I work, come on out and catch my act some night, Detective,” I taunted, “maybe I’ll give you a free table dance. Maybe I’ll give you something else.”

She nodded and I could sense her frustration. As her eyes met mine, they began to turn dark with anger. I knew right then I had gone too far with my taunting. She was definitely going to be at the club tonight and probably every night. If not her then maybe the old fuck or some other flunky.

Bring it on, Skank, I thought, as I blew her a seductive kiss on my way out, cause this little Werewolf Bitch will be waiting.


© Copyright 2019 Amber Timber. All rights reserved.

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