John Pov
Alex sat in front of me, staring off into space.

"Alexander?" I asked.
He didn't respond.

"You have to talk to me." I said.

"Since when?" He asked.

"Since now? If you're making the rules then where's the handbook my good lad?" He asked, glaring at me with stone cold eyes.

I'd exaggerate and say his eyes were black but no, more of a vibrant purple blue but still extremely intimidating.

"Tell me about yourself." I said.

He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, raising his eyebrow.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" He asked.

Then he giggled a bit and exclaimed, "You are!
Brilliant.
See, I'm a psychopath, or so they tell me, and psychopaths...
they get bored.
But!
That's where they're wrong, you see, I'm not a psychopath, no.
I'm a high functioning sociopath. Sociopaths, we..
we have a switch.
We can snap to either side of the switch in less than a second. We're extremely clever but you know that already. Sociopaths can kill much quicker and much quieter with greater skill."
He said, staring me in the eyes.

"Brilliant." I whispered.
"Absolutely brilliant." I repeated a bit louder.

We both sat in silence.
My god.

So he is fully conscious and aware of everything he's done.
That's amazin-

"Shut up." He snapped.

"What? I didn't say anything." I said.

"You were thinking. It's annoying."
He said like it was obvious.

Oh well sorry for fucking
thinking.

He stared ahead again.
Ten minutes went past.

"Why are you so quiet?" I asked.
"Nobody plans a murder out loud."
He replied.

My eyes widened, and I gripped my chair.

Stay calm.
Just
stay
fucking
calm.

He laughed.

"Kidding! I'm kidding, sorry. It isn't the best environment to have such humor, do excuse me." He said, a smile on his face.

I relaxed a bit and chuckled nervously. "How old are you Alexander?" I asked.

"Twenty. You're twenty thr- two. You're twenty two." He said.

Okay then.
He knows my age.
That's fine.
That's just fine.

"How'd you know that?" I asked.
He smirked.

"You just guessed didn't you?" I asked. "I never guess." He said.

"It wasn't that hard. Already knowing that you recently graduated college is one of the first things. I was going to say twenty three mainly because getting a major is psychology would take about three..four years but, you're quite obviously on the younger side of your class so, twenty two." He told me.

"How is it obvious?" I asked.

"God it must be so boring in your brain." He muttered.

Motherfucker.
He's amazingly intelligent, but damn he's a prick.
Then again, he is a killer.

"Pardon me, that was a bit rude. My dear Laurens, let me say this if you haven't figured it out on your own, I'm much more capable of deduction than anyone you've ever met. I've figured out how to escape this place.
I just need a bit of..
assistance to do so."
He said, glancing at the camera.

I narrowed my eyes.

"That's not what I'm here for. Tell me anyone hobbies you have, maybe family, girlfriends." I said.

He sighed.
"Alright Laurens I'll bite.
Hobbies? Dabbled in poetry.
Family? A grand total of none. Girlfriends? Not my..area." He said.

"What do you mean 'not your area?'" I asked.

He was quiet for a moment.

"..When you're in an insane asylum it's hard to come about that." He answered slowly.

"What about before you came here?" I asked.

"I was too busy planning the mess I made." He replied.

I nodded slowly.

"..and girls aren't really my thing in general." He muttered.

"Hmm?" I hummed.
Oh wait shit.

"What about boyfriends? Because..that's okay too," I added.

He narrowed his eyes and gave me a slight nod. He didn't say anything though.

"Did you have a boyfri-"

"No." He said quickly.
"And that's the end of that."

"Alright. Erm..what did you mean when you said you had no family?" I asked.

"All of them are dead." He said.

Oh how nice.

"How'd th-"

"Dad left, Mum died, James ran away, Peter died. I lost all contact with everyone else after that." He said.

"Oh goodness! Do you want to talk mor-"

"No."