The Devil Has No Name

INSPIRATIONAL MODAYS PROMPT FLASH FICTION presented by Stephanie at Be Kind Rewrite.

The guidelines for this flash fiction challenge are as follows:

Keep the story between 200 & 500 words, and choose one of these prompts –

THE MAN WITH NO NAME

ALWAYS UNDERESTIMATED

TRAINED FROM BIRTH

CUT AND PASTE

MASTERPIECES

Content Warning: There is graphic language in this piece.  Be advised.

Enjoy!

The Devil Has No Name

He smiled at her through the one-way mirror.

Damn, that was a million-dollar smile.  She understood how he could lure his victims into his confidence.   You’d do anything for a smile like that.

It wasn’t his mouth that had power.  The mouth only moved; it was the eyes that smiled and held the power.

“Sergeant!”

She snapped out of her trance—fucking trance?–at hearing her Captain’s booming voice.

“Sir?”

“You having a moment I should know about?”

“No.  Just picking fly shit out of pepper, sir.”

The Captain grunted a nod, then pointed at the Adonis in the orange jumpsuit handcuffed to the stainless steel table of Interrogation Room 3.

“Thoughts?”

Thoughts?  Oh, she had thoughts alright.  The increasing warmth somewhere between her navel and her kneecaps was rife with thoughts.  She didn’t mention this to the Captain.

“He won’t say shit, Cap.  To go in there and try to pull the ol’ ‘oke-doke’ on him will just piss him off, because we don’t respect him.  He wants to run the show.  I say we hang tight.  He’ll tell all in time.”

Her boss’ eyes looked her direction, but his head didn’t move one iota.

“That’s all well and fuckin’ good, but I don’t want this murdering’ shitbag to know we intend to let him have three squares and a cot every fuckin’ day til he coughs up a confession.  Get in there and at least act like you earn your pay, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

She didn’t allow herself to smile until she’d closed the door to the viewing room behind her.  The Captain only spoke that way to his wife (she’d heard it!) and the senior detectives; people he respected.  She had nabbed a “Most Wanted” motherfucker, and now she was on the Cap’s fucking radar!

She opened the door, and stepped into Interrogation Room 3.  She sat across from him.

“You need anything?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

He nodded.

“I’m Detective Sergeant Brooke.  May I have your name?”

He shook his head.

“Okay.  Is there anything you want to tell me about this evening?”

He nodded.

“Okay, that’s a good start.  What would you like to tell me?”

He smiled again.  She felt imaginary fingers softly caress her pussy.  It was all she could do to remain still.

“What would you like to tell me?” she repeated because she had to do something.

He leaned forward.  Handcuffs rattled against the steel they were locked through.  She bent forward to meet him in spite of herself.

“I want to tell you I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“Sorry for what?”

“For the rest of your life.” He sat back down, the smile gone now.

She didn’t know what the hell he meant, and didn’t give a shit either; it was obvious he was playing games.

“You want to play that way?  That’s your right.” She stood and left the room.

Detective Brooke marched down the hall, her mind racing all over the place.  No thought lingered for even a moment.  She went to her desk and got her pistol, then about-faced and headed back down the hall.

She felt the alarming questions, but couldn’t discern them.  She knew she was in some kind of danger, but couldn’t stop herself.  She was going to kill him.  She knew somehow.  She could feel the gun in her left hand, and feel the murderous intent, and she knew what was coming next.

She was wrong.

She opened the door to the viewing room, and stepped inside.

The Captain saw the gun.

“What the fuck Ser—“

She put four rounds through his face. There were shouts outside the door.  She turned and looked at the man handcuffed beyond the one-way mirror.  He smiled for her … only for her.  She wanted to masturbate, but instead put her Glock 9 under her chin and blew her brains all over the ceiling.

Alone in Interrogation Room 3, the man with no name laughed.

 

~CLS~

 

Word Count:  666

I know I’m over word count.  I’m a stickler for word count, ask anybody. But look at it … I did a first edit and there it was, as evil as you like.  Considering the tale, I had to leave it. Gave me the title too.   ~C.

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16 Comments

  1. Mangsgirl.

     /  January 30, 2014

    Awesome!! Although, you had me at “Content Warning: Graphic Language In This Piece.”

    Reply
    • Christopher Shawbell

       /  February 8, 2014

      Thanks, Mangsgirl! I have intention to expand on this character’s exploits with a series of shorts from the POVs of the people he encounters—like this piece is.

      ~Christopher

      Reply
  2. Very slick, man. Excellent narration and dialogue. I enjoyed the way the man with no name played his hand. And the fact that you hit 666 words was a nice touch of irony- I dig it. Great job! 🙂

    Reply
    • Christopher Shawbell

       /  July 31, 2013

      I thought I’d die when I saw the word count. “Are you kidding!?!” Crazy!
      I like this piece. My favorite part is their dialog;
      “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”
      “Sorry for what?”
      “For the rest of your life.”
      Didn’t think that on out, just happened, and I still get creeped-out about it. Heavy hammer o’ fate bashing her skull with that one.
      Thanks again JD!
      ~C.

      Reply
  3. writingsprint

     /  July 30, 2013

    Creepy. If you kill the devil, is it evil? Especially if he makes you do it…

    Reply
    • Christopher Shawbell

       /  July 30, 2013

      Evil is in the intent not the action.
      Thank you for reading and commenting!
      ~CHristopher

      Reply
  4. That’s one spooky tale – as is the background story of your word count. Good to have you along for the InMon ride!

    Reply
    • Christopher Shawbell

       /  July 30, 2013

      Thank you. It was spooky. I had the guy pegged as a devilish sort, but the word count phenomenon cinched the title. This week’s is shorter to make up for the overage.
      ~Chris

      Reply
  5. Creepy, quite disturbing. Well written. I like the contrast between her thoughts and her speech. Welcome to InMon!

    Reply
    • Christopher Shawbell

       /  July 25, 2013

      Thank you, Stephanie. I appreciate the welcome, and I’m glad that the readers in your group have liked the piece. I really had a great experience writing it. The word count phenomenon was funny. I thought I was going to die when I saw it.
      See you next inMon day!
      ~Christopher

      Reply
  6. Deserving of the self like, it is indeed a “wicked piece.” Well written, captivating, drawing the audience in and giving them just enough to get settled before you spin them around and get them good and thoroughly lost, needing, craving more and more and more. Well done.

    Reply
    • Christopher Shawbell

       /  July 25, 2013

      Thank you for reading. It was 0230 or so when I posted it so I think that’s why I was goofy enuff to self-like before anyone else AND post my comment. May not have kept the word count I stumbled on either if I had been in my “right mind”. Thankfully I was not.
      Thanks again, my friend.
      ~CHris

      Reply
  7. Interesting, Intriguing, Definitely Disturbing. Nicely done keeping reader in toes, not knowing what direction story would take.

    Reply
    • Christopher Shawbell

       /  July 25, 2013

      Thanks, Tena. I had a good time writing this one. I only had a vague idea of where it was going when I started, but soon as I wrote the first bit about his smile I knew that was the piece. Thanks again!
      ~Chris

      Reply
  8. Christopher Shawbell

     /  July 25, 2013

    Yes, I “liked” my own short. It doesn’t do my heart justice though; I LOVE this wicked piece!!!

    Reply
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