Typical Joe

Prologue

"Sometimes, the world just refuses to let our insanity out for just a moment or two.Somehow it comes across as though it is scared of the chance of making these morons realize that what I did was a mere act of obedience to the most natural inclination of men."

His eyes are fixed on the table clearly rejecting every attempt to meet my gaze. He is a changed man. He does not have the confidence that made him well known all across this small town. What he is today is just a typical Joe. A very typical lamb with inhumane tendencies.

"There is always a tinge of me left in every person in this town. Every single one of you is tainted. You can never get rid of me, and tomorrow there will be more." he muttered as he finally lifted his gaze from the wooden table and looked directly at me.

I shifted my weight from shoulder to the other as I looked at him intently in what seemed like a failing attempt to excavate a dead man's remains from Joe's eyes.

"Tell me, Joe. Is there something else I should know of?" I asked calmly and sympathetically — a technique I learned from my seniors when dealing with criminals like Joe. It worked most of the time but today is different. I am being led to believe that my expertise and my skills are not enough. I felt so small in his presence but I need to stay composed if I want this interrogation to succeed.

"I never understood why the police would let a tiny, pretty, very pretty journalist like you to ask me questions. Are they not scared of the things I might do to you?" he let out a gentle giggle which made me shiver.

"You will not hurt me, Joe. I know you won't." I replied. I don't know if it was a good reply but I am certain that I almost fooled myself into believing it.

I purposely met his hazel brown eyes. Those thick lashes make him look so innocent. It is funny because most people believe that the passage to man's soul is through his eyes when in fact, the soul is nothing but a concept. It is just an illusion made to justify the delicate flaws of the human race. It is easy to identify a weak being, and I am not determined to be one of them. Not in front of a criminal like Joe. Not in front of a criminal who carved his victims into trophies.

"Why?" I firmly asked.

"I thought you were smart, my pretty girl." he replied.

"Why would you dismember those people.?"

"Why not?"

"Are you not scared of the consequences of your actions, Joe?"

"If the consequence of murdering and dismembering morons is a chance to talk to a woman like you, I have no regrets." he leaned forward. His hands, still cuffed, touched the tip of my fingers.

"I would do it again, lady." he whispered in my ear.

I'm at my wit's end when he licked my ear but I maintained my composure. It is no use freaking out and blowing my only chance to write the best article I could ever write. I must stay here, and endure this monster. After all, we are both alive. A realization came to me at that moment. I must take control.

I gently pushed him aside and stood. I dragged the chair I was sitting on and positioned it beside him. I leaned closer to him.

"What about God?" I asked trying to sound as innocent as I could.

He grinned. He shook his head gently from side to side as he tried so hard not to laugh. His face lit up like a maniac who just found his magic potion.

"Tell me, pretty lady. Do you think I believe in God and the devil?"

He chuckled.He laughed hard, motioned to hold his stomach and brushed his cuffed hands on his eyes to wipe the tears brought about by serious laughter.

"People worship something greater than them.

People worship saints because of the mere fact that they did miracles of some sort. They worship the son of God ,and then the God and then many more gods not because they are meant to worship them but because they aspire for an exchange like the promise of an eternal life. But I got no use for an eternal life, my dear. Do I believe in the devil? He can take me anytime and I'll strangle him with my own hands."