Poetry and Other Things of the Sort - The Interrogation | Penana

Login

Register

Please use Chrome or Firefox for better user experience!

Comments

Show more...

0

0

Prev

Next

Style

Expand

Menu

coins

Sponsor

Request update

Share

Report

#1

The Interrogation

RaichuTheRaven

May 13, 2024

214

2 Mins Read

x

Suspect 1

I wonder what it feels like to die.

I wonder how that boy feels, in the picture. He looks awful.

I cling to death as if it were a fleeting memory—

That’s why I decided to become a detective (homicide dept!)

I’m constantly surrounded by desolation and despair.

I’ve never been on this side of an investigation, though.

I must admit, it’s quite invigorating.

218Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtReZ2BMW3q

Suspect 2

I’m scared to death.

I’ve never broken a law in my life,

How did I even end up here?

Every question he asks me is worse than the last,

Every picture increasingly morbid.

I mean, that’s a child! They think I did that?

I could never do that... I wouldn’t.

218Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM9KXhXhssT

Suspect 3

Why should I care that he’s dead?

Things like that never really bothered me.

The suits seem to think they should.

But this isn’t my first time in an interrogation room.

I know what they are.

Some of these detectives really need to get their heads screwed on straight.

I laugh at the irony.

218Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6fpU77xFYk

Detective

Another boy’s dead. Murdered. Raped.

Death is slowly creeping around every corner of my decrepit mind...

I’ve been through this a million times—shaky breaths, hurried fingers through my hair.

Really, I’m completely fine, whether they like it or not.

I slide the pictures across. I watch them squirm.

Again, and again, and again, and again, and—

Breathless desperation, crammed in the action of a ceaseless pace.

218Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWWgDx8X6Vy

Victim

I’m dead, I think.

Quite ironic, really.

I used to fantasize about death a lot—my own and other’s.

Maybe that’s why it happened. Karma?

Sometimes I get angry.

With the killer. With myself. With everything. Everyone.

Maybe, I deserved it.

218Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXBl1eXZI8F

Death

I am death.

I have a personal relationship with everyone on this planet.

Often, I end up in this bleak, pallid room.

I know why. Mankind is a ravaging monster.

It fascinates me, how one could live in a lie for so long.

Sometimes they force my hand. Make me steal a life before I want...

I am not a creature of spite.

ns216.73.216.85da2

0

coins

0 likes Suggest Edits

Be the first to like this issue!

You have reached the end of the story.

Tags

No tags yet.

Have a friend who might like this story?

Click to share it now!

You may also like:

an accumulation of my contest submissions

Stories You Never Finished

Lee Lucas and 17 Others

《Scales of Defiance: Beginning with the Supreme Bone Being Dug Out》

FNAF and Scooby Doo

Aelita Yoru and 1 Others

Writter Afsana Wahid Wahi

Explore more stories

Poetry and Other Things of the Sort

Bookmark!

Request update 0

Table of Contents

#1 The Interrogation