How far would you go? (Currently Editing)

Sam

Looking at the detective, I tried to remain calm. I didn't want him to suspect any change in Luke's demeanour, and I worked hard to control my emotions. It had been hard to break out, to swap personalities, but Luke had slipped up. He allowed me to get to him, and the more I confused him, the more his mind became a tangled mess. He didn't have the strength to hold me back, and it had been just in time, because Luke was about to give us up. It was genius blaming Russell and killing Louise would help to convince a jury that he was responsible for the other deaths. Now Luke would not shut up, because he was furious by my sudden blame at Russell.
'Russell?' asked the detective. 'Why is that?'
Time to put on a good show and convince this officer that Russell is a crazed lunatic and all I wanted to do was stop him before anyone else got hurt. Is this what I wanted? Or did I want Russell dead? I still felt furious how he had treated Luke, yet I had moved on, realising Luke could never understand, and I had to do what I wanted. I had to protect myself. This is what I wanted. Russell going to prison for crimes he did not commit was the perfect way to make him suffer. I took a deep breath and started to explain what I knew, keeping my voice calm and trying hard to sound like Luke.
'I failed when Russell shot Louise. I followed him to Louise's apartment, because I was worried about her, and saw his car. I tried hard to convince Russell to call the police, but he got mad and pulled out a gun. I thought I would die. If it wasn't for Louise, he would have shot me, but she stepped in trying to break up the fight, and Russell shot her. He fired his gun straight into her chest.' It all came out like a blur, intentionally sounding like I was panicking, desperate to help the detective see I was scared. Then I buried my hands into my face and pretended to shake with sadness. Was that too much? I was doing well and felt like an actor performing at a theatre.
'All that blood. It was everywhere, and I yelled that he calls the police. He was furious, threatening to shoot me if I didn't shut up. The next thing I knew he forced me into the Mini until you found us.'
'And how do you know he killed the others?'
Was the detective buying this story? I hoped so, because I wanted Russell to go to jail until he died.
'Because he told me. I asked him if he had killed the others, and he just laughed telling me they deserved to die. He didn't say why, he just laughed.'
'Right. Yes, we did find his prints all over the weapon, but you see I have a problem.' The detective then paused, allowing his words to sink in. I tried to remain calm, but I could feel the anger rising.
'There is no evidence suggesting he killed the others, and the problem is, he says you killed them.'
I lost it, throwing my words out without thinking. How dare Russell suggest such a crazy idea. He was the killer and I had to convince this self-righteous detective that I was innocent.
'What! That's insane. Why would I kill any of them? He's lying!'
The detective didn't respond, and I continued my barrage of words. That was my first mistake.
'How could you even think that. I've been trying to stop Russell, he killed Louise.'
'I understand that,' replied the officer. He looked at me, his eyes burning into my skull, and for a split second, I thought he saw through my façade.
'I can't prove it, but I think you are lying. I think you killed Alan, and Debbie, and now you are trying to blame Russell.'
How? Why would he even suggest that? Had I slipped up? Had I made mistakes? This was too much. Who did this man think he was, accusing me this way? He had no proof, and I crushed my rage before I did something foolish. I tried hard, but the detective kept pushing, he kept accusing me, and I could not stand it any longer.
'I want to know why you killed those people?' asked the detective, trying desperately to get a confession from me.
'How dare you!' I yelled. 'You don't get to accuse me of anything, you are nothing, and if you don't shut up, I'll make you pay.'
I regretted those words the moment they left my mouth. That was my second mistake, and by the detective's smile, I could tell he was enjoying this, knowing that he had me trapped.
'Russell killed Louise, and you found all those canisters in his car. How can you think I had anything to do with this?'
'I don't know. But I will, and when I do, you will go away for a very long time. I'll tell you what I think. I think you are a killer with no remorse, and I think you believe you didn't hurt anyone. Maybe you're ill or maybe you are psychotic, whatever it is, I think you are evil.'

Listening to this rubbish was too much, and I made my third mistake. Without thinking, I lashed out, grabbing the police detective, and slamming my fist into his stomach. He doubled over, winching in pain, but still smiling. As I hit him again, I wondered if this is what he wanted. He wanted me to lose control. He wanted me to show my true colours. I could not stop, and pounded him over and over, until the officer fell to the ground clutching his chest. Behind me I heard the noise of other officers yelling and charging toward me, ordering that I stop, but I couldn't. Anger, rage, and fury had taken over and I wanted to kill the police officer. I wanted him to suffer and kicked him while he was down. I needed to stop. I knew I had to stop, but I couldn't, and this brutal attack helped relieve the rage I felt.
'Russell killed them,' I screamed.
The officer was hurt, but for some reason he was still smiling. Despite the pain, he was grinning with pleasure. I looked into his eyes and there was a flicker. Something that said, fooled you. I knew he had tricked me into revealing who I was. I now wanted to wipe that stupid grin off from his face, and just before I hit him again, I felt that sharp jolt of electricity travel through my body. A million volts flowed through my nerves, and I instantly lost control of my muscles, and every part of me twitched and shuddered. Fight it! I had to fight it. It was impossible, and I caught sight of an officer holding out his taser as the two prongs released their charge. I wanted to kill everyone here, feeling my fury consume me. Yet, the only thing I could do was fall to the ground, and shudder uncontrollably.

This wasn't the way I wanted it to end. I still had work to do. With the electric charge flowing through my body, I was now immobile, and I felt the pull of hands as several officers grabbed me and dragged me away. As the electric charge slowly vanished, the pain it left was like a thousand needles pricking my nerves and I was tired. Worst of all, the taser had hit my brain, and allowed Luke to push forward, using the attack as an opportunity to break free. I could feel him close by, and I had to stop him. Luke would give everything away. Yet, I was too weak to do anything.
The police officers had me, and they clamped my hands together with a set of handcuffs and threw me into the back of a police car. Even if Luke kept quiet, surely, I would be arrested for attacking an officer? There was nothing I could do, and shutting my eyes, I listened as the world continued. Outside, the commotion increased as officers contained the scene, helped the detective toward an ambulance, and cleaned up the mess from the accident. I was tired, really tired, and before I could stop myself, sleep overtook me, and that is when Luke came back to reality. He was calm and ready to tell the police everything.