How far would you go? (Currently Editing)

Luke

The police station was a depressing place. The neutral colours had faded into an off-white shade, with marks across every wall, where those arrested had fought and resisted. Random noises filled the corridors. Yells of protest, calls for attention, screams; it all merged into a loud cacophony.
Luke sat in the holding cell, looking sheepish. Three other prisoners rested on hard benches in the locked room, looking at him, with menacing eyes. These were big men. Tattooed. Thuggish, and mean looking. Luke was slim, tall, and what prisoners would call a pretty boy. All he wanted to do was get out of here because he was scared. Frightened to be in this situation, but also terrified that Sam would appear and make matters worse. If Luke could hold him back, he might survive this place. He kept his head down and tried to avoid eye contact with the mean looking men.

Ten minutes later, the desk sergeant opened the locked door and gestured for Luke to leave. A glimmer of hope came over him. Was he being released? He was doubtful, and he was right. The officer held on tightly as Luke was ushered toward an interview room, and to his surprise, DI Cortado, and officer Hook sat by a desk, smiling politely. The detective looked a mess, his face swollen, his eyes puffy, and his lower lip was inflamed. Luke grimaced at the sight, knowing he was responsible.
'I'm sorry, 'said Luke, as the sergeant sat him down. 'I didn't mean to...' Luke stopped staring at the detective, hoping the officer would understand what he was apologising for.
'Mr. Hill,' responded detective Cortado. He voice was nasally, and slightly distorted, as if he were talking through a tinny speaker. Did Luke break his nose too? He was not sure, because it had all happened in a blur, and the rage he had felt from Sam had confused him, even though Luke tried hard to regain control of the situation.
'Mr. Hill. Are you with us?'
Luke smiled. He had been lost in thought and failed to respond to the detective.
'Yes. Sorry.'
'Do you know why you are here? Don't answer that.' The worn detective held up his finger, silencing Luke before he could respond. He then continued speaking, with his nasally voice.
'Let me tell you why you are here, and you can correct me if I'm wrong. How does that sound?'
DI Hook tapped the record button on the desk and spoke loudly into the speaker.
'Interview started at 10.25pm. Present, DI Cortado, and officer Hook, interviewing Mr. Luke Hill.'
Luke tried to stay calm. He was an awful situation, and even though he knew this was his opportunity to tell the truth, he felt apprehensive and frightened. The only thing that kept him focused, was the thought of Jessica. Now she was gone, Luke realised how much he missed her, and despite what she had done to him, he still loved her and wished she were here with him. The detective coughed loudly, and Luke was pulled back into the room, listening to the officer's words.
'I believe,' said detective Cortado. 'That you killed Debbie. You then killed Alan, and I think you also orchestrated your wife's murder?'
'No!' shouted Luke. 'No! I didn't kill Jessica. That was an accident.'
Luke felt his heart rate increase. How could they think he had hurt Jessica? A panic came over him because Luke suddenly wondered if he had. Not Luke, but Sam. Had Sam killed Jessica and Luke was unaware? It was possible, but no, he would have known, and more importantly, he would never hurt Jessica.
'I did not kill Jessica. She means everything to me.' Luke's words were calmer than his previous outburst.
The detective studied Luke, his swollen eyes considering if he believed Luke.
'You admit you killed the others?'
This was Luke's moment, his time to tell the truth. How could he explain what had happened when he was not clear on the details. Worst of all, the voice in his head was angry, and Sam was fuming. Luke ignored him and focused on the detective's question.
'Yes and no,' replied Luke, realising how stupid that sounded. The officers frowned at his statement.
'What do you mean, yes and no?'
What did he mean? Luke's mind was hazy with the details, and he desperately wanted to explain what had happened before it was too late. Sam was edging closer. Luke could feel him and knew that at any moment his alter-ego would burst out and ruin everything. Luke fought hard to stay in control, and steadied his hands.
'It's complicated, because I didn't kill those people.' Luke paused, but neither officer spoke, waiting for him to continue.
'Sam did. Sam killed them all. I tried to stop him because I didn't want anyone to die. But he kept pushing. He was angry and wanted them all dead.'
Luke smiled. He had done it. He had told the detectives the truth. But at what cost? Now Sam was raging, and pushing and shoving, begging to be let out, and Luke knew he would not be able to resist for long. His hands started to shake again, and beads of sweat started to form on his brow.
'So,' said Hook, joining in the conversation. 'If you didn't kill them and say Sam did. Where can we find Sam and who is Sam?'
Luke had no choice, he had to tell them, but he couldn't because the voice in his head was in a frenzy, and Luke could not think straight. He stared at the two officers with a vacant expression.
'Mr. Hill. Do you know where Sam is?' interrupted DI Cortado.
'I... I...' Luke could barely speak because he was focused on the voice in his head.

Don't do it Luke. They only want to lock you away. Is that what you want, to end up in prison for the rest of your life? Let me out and I can end this for you. I can get rid of them, and no one will ever know. It will be our secret, and you can get on with your life. Leave this up to me. Come on, Luke. It's time!

'No! No! Stop it!' blurted out Luke. His words were loud and unexpected, and he barely noticed the confused expression from the two officers.
'Mr. Hill. Is everything OK?
The voice would not stop. Sam would not give up and continued to fill Luke's mind with his demands. Luke shook his head vigorously, hoping to shake Sam away, yet his attempts were futile. Sam was still in his head, yelling for Luke to stop.
There was only way one Luke knew how to push Sam away. Finally, he took a deep breath, and focused his attention of Jessica. He imagined her beautiful smile, her tender embrace, and was instantly calm, feeling Sam drift into the back of his mind.
'I'm sorry about that,' said Luke, matter of fact. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and steadied his nerves.
'In answer to your question, I am Sam, or should I say, Sam is my evil alter-ego. I barely have any control over him, and it takes all my willpower to fight him.'
If the detectives thought he sounded like a lunatic, they did not show it, and their faces remained neutral and impassive. Good poker faces thought Luke. But he did sound like a mad-man, and he felt like one. Saying those words aloud felt good, and for the first time, Luke acknowledged who he was. It was a heavy burden to carry, and after all these years, he had let go. Before the officers could continue, Luke jumped in, because he had to tell them everything.
'I suffer from a personality disorder. One good, one bad. I can't remember what the technical term is, but I suppose I'm two people, and Sam is the bad one. I'm not schizophrenic. Rather than just hearing voices, I become a completely different person, and until recently I was unaware what Sam was doing.'
The room went silent, except for the hum from the air-conditioning unit, and the noise from outside the interrogation room. It was the younger officer who spoke first.
'Mr. Hill. Let me get this straight. You claim to be suffering from some form of a split personality. You take no responsibility for your recent actions and attribute these murders to your evil personality?'
The detective made quotation marks when he said the word, 'evil.' It annoyed Luke, because he could see the officer did not believe a word he had just said.
'These murders were carried out by Sam, not you, although it was you, wouldn't you agree?'
The police officer was starting to annoy Luke, and the detective was trying to make Luke angry. He focused his mind, trying hard to stay calm, and kept his mind fixed on Jessica.
'I know you think I'm mad, and in a way I am. Sam killed my friends, and at the time I was unaware of my involvement. Who do you think did that to your face? Sam is dangerous.'
'I'm well aware how dangerous he is, and that makes you dangerous too, wouldn't you say?' asked Cortado.
He was right. If Sam was dangerous, then by default, Luke was dangerous, and that realisation sent a feeling of despair throughout Luke. He sighed, knowing the detective was right. Yet, he did not kill his friends. Luke would never hurt them, it had all been Sam, and Sam had tricked him.

That's it, Luke. Don't let them blame you. They're wrong, you're not dangerous. These police scum only want to blame you; they can't see the truth. Tell them they are wrong. Tell them!

'No! You're wrong. I would never hurt anyone.'
DI Cortado moved his face closely toward Luke, looking him directly in the eyes. It was un-nerving, that Luke back away slightly.
'You are a killer. And you did this. Stop blaming Sam, or whatever you want to call him. You killed your friends. Didn't you? Didn't you?'
Luke lost it and jumped to his feet screaming in rage. His hands were no longer handcuffed, and he tightened his fists into a ball, ready to strike the officer. Luke could feel the anger flowing through his body, consuming every nerve and muscle. Sam was winning, and Luke was losing the battle.
Before anyone got hurt, two officers burst into the room, and quickly subdued Luke, grabbing him by the arms. He screamed, louder and louder, telling the detective that it wasn't him.
'I didn't kill anyone! It was Sam! Please, it wasn't me!'

All thoughts of Jessica were gone, and as Luke felt his arms being squeezed, all he could focus on was the rage flowing through his mind. That fury meant one thing. Sam. In a final attempt to stay in control, Luke bucked and twisted, trying to break free, and then everything went calm. DI Cortado walked cautiously toward Luke, who was now smiling a wicked grin.
'Hello, detective. A pleasure to meet you. I'm Sam.'