"He's a freak," Officer Nolan, the bald-headed police officer said, while narrowing his eyes at the young man sitting inside the room, (an act rendered impotent by the one-way glass).
Turning to look at a grey-haired man in front of him, Nolan continued. "Detective Hunter, just look at this file. Abducted by the Shadow Stalker at eight, retrieved at fifteen with no memory of most of his time with her... this kid is definitely the killer--"
"He's just unfortunate," Detective Hunter spoke, his voice steady. "And he's been in therapy ever since. From what I could gather from his files, he's been a good kid."
"Six years, that's a long time to be isolated, to have someone poking around in your head, and it's worst when that someone is the Shadow stalker," Nolan argued.
"So are you proposing we arrest him for nothing?" Detective Hunter raised a brow, his black eyes steady. "Lock him up cause you don't like him?"
"I'm... I'm just saying we shouldn't let this kid go like you suggested, not without proper questioning," Nolan defended.
"Forensics already determined that the suspect was a woman we even have camera footage," Hunter chuckled.
"He could be an accomplice," Nolan shot back.
Letting out a sigh Detective Hunter took a breath, his gaze trailing to the kid seated within the interrogation room.
Suddenly, as though sensing something, the kid turned, his dark eyes peering straight into Hunter's with a calmness unbecoming of his age.
One could argue that the kid could see him, but that couldn't be the case, could it?
"You go in first," Hunter suggested, his eyes narrowing slightly.
-------
Mr. Valen sat within the interrogation room, lit by the sickly glow of a flickering fluorescent light.
A heavy, scarred metal table (bolted to the floor) dominated the center, its surface scratched and stained.
One chair mismatched to his, faced him, a cold, rigid seat for his would-be interrogator, while the one he sat on felt uncomfortable, a wobbly thing meant to unsettle whoever occupied it.
But was he truly unsettled?
At the moment Mr. Valen felt nothing but a slight impatience to get this over with, his eyes scanning the room.
On one side of the room, a one-way mirror stretched like a dead, silver eye, reflecting nothing but darkness to Mr. Valen's eyes. 'Two people are watching me," he somehow noted, a fact perceived despite the glass.
Breathing in, he noted that the air smelled of stale sweat, cheap disinfectant, and something metallic (damp iron, or maybe old blood).
The walls, painted with a dull, institutional gray, absorbed sound like a sponge.
There were no clocks, no windows, just the hum of the ventilation system, but Mr. Valen remained unaffected.
At that moment, the door opened with a click, and an obese man with a balding head walked in, a heavy frown on his face as he sat in front of him.
The first thing Mr. Valen noted was the absence of his badge, a slight breach of protocol that piqued his interest. 'Aren't police officers required to wear them in such situations?'
As if sensing his thoughts, Officer Nolan flashed his badge upside down, for a brief second before asking, his tone hostile. "So. You killed the man from earlier today
What's that like?"
The question hung in the air like a shroud, with Mr. Valen's face showing no particular reaction, Detective Hunter watched from behind the glass.
'How would a normal teenage boy react under such circumstances?' Mr. Valen thought, the puzzle occupying his mind. 'From my research, it's usually a period of hormonal instability and unstable emotions, so hostility? That doesn't seem smart, given the situation, maybe light hostility?'
"I asked you a question, son," Nolan repeated, his tone increasing.
"Nolan Turner, badge number eight-four-three-six," Mr. Valen responded, his brows furrowed, his form raised defensively. "What? You think flashing your badge like that would intimidate me, old me?"
Taken aback by such an abrupt change in... Everything, Officer Nolan narrowed his eyes.
'His body language suggests that he is about to hit the table, I should react accordingly,' Mr. Valen noted.
"Bam!" Nolan hit the table with his palms, the sound echoing in his room causing the young man before him to jerk a bit, his eyes shaking as he gulped.
"I am not answering any more questions," Mr. Valen spoke, avoiding the Officer's gaze.
'Shit, I scared the freak,' Officer Nolan thought before looking towards the glass, nodding as he walked out.
This time, another man walked in, his form confident, an older-looking man with a toned physique.
He wore a white long sleeve with two bottens losse, his black pants neat and ironed.
Rolling up his sleeves, he spoke, his voice naturally cracked, (gravelly), "I'm Detective Hunter. Do you know why you're here, Valen?"
"Because I spoke?" Mr. Valen answered, his tone uncertain, but his eyes, the depths of his eyes remained calm.
Taking a seat, Detective Hunter shook his head. "You did not just speak, you correctly stated how the murder of that man was committed, speaking in the first person. Hell, your guess was as good as our forensics. We managed to get security footage from a neighbor's house that captured the woman, but not her face."
Mr. Valen remained quiet at those words, but Hunter did not seem to mind; rather, he questioned again, calmly. "Did you ever know, Timothy?"
"Timothy?" Mr. Valen echoed, his brows raised in confusion.
"I'll take that as a no," Detective Hunter sighed before asking. "Where were you yesterday evening?"
"At home," Mr. Valen responded, his breath shallow as he expanded. "My dad and I were exhausted after our trip to Raindrop, college admission stuff."
"That's good. What do you plan on studying?" Detective Hunter asked.
"I'm planning to study-"
"First, a Miss Julian says she saw you at the scene of the crime. With the woman," Detective Hunter suddenly cut him short and asked. "Can your dad testify that you were with him all evening? Does he even keep tabs on you that much?"
'This is such a fascinating learning opportunity, he's obviously trying to confuse me,' Mr. Valen thought gleefully, partly proud that he had come so far in his self-education so as to understand such complex social interactions.
"Sir, you are welcome to ask anyone, I was at home," Mr. Valen said.
"That's not what you said before," Detective Hunter shot back calmly, peering at Mr. Valen, but the young man just remained quiet, refraining from speaking further.
There was then a brief silence, before Detective Hunter shook his head. 'This is stupid, I wanted to have a bit of fun bullying the kid, but he's solid."
"Say, kid, tell me how were you able to do that thing you did at the crime scene and I'll let you go," Detective Hunter proposed.
At his words, Mr. Valen didn't respond at first, but Hunter was patient, watching as the young man thought.
Taking a breath, Mr. Valen then spoke lying with a perfectly neutral expression. "I simply imagine myself in the killer's shoes, that's how I survived with my mom, or as you would say, the woman who abducted me."
Mr. Valen may have said all that but in reality, he was just as clueless as Detective Hunter when it came to his strange ability.
Detective Hunter, on the other hand, nodded upon hearing his reasoning and stood up. "You're free to go."
"Alright," Mr. Valen nodded, standing up. 'I hope I can still make the party,' he thought to himself following behind Detective Hunter.