Criminal Minds ~ DNF

5

The second he saw the mask fall, George stood up again.

"Now we're getting somewhere..." George murmured as he appraised the man in front of him. Clay had a very prominent jawline, freckles splattered across his nose and sharp eyes. In George's opinion, they were the best feature of the killer. His irises were a startling green with copper-coloured streaks coming out from behind the pupil.

"Are you finished gawking at me yet? I know I'm hot, you don't have to stare," Clay snapped irritably. George looked away, feeling his cheeks burning.

"I said no more trouble."

"Oh, I know. I'm just good at what I do. When people meet me, they're either extremely attracted to me, or..." Clay trailed off, taunting the honorary FBI agent.

"Or?" George asked. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what the killer had to say next.

"Or I murder them," Dream responded perfectly calmly. "Sometimes I'll burn them, hell, sometimes I'll eat the cunts. Either way, they die and I get to satisfy myself." George felt a shiver shoot up his spine at the words but repressed any visible reactions. He knew what Dream had done in the past - he'd seen it all before. The killer sounded almost proud. Disgusting.

"Looks like you're going to have to kill me, then," George tried to stop the incessant shaking of his hands.

"I just might," Dream took a step toward the glass. Remembering George's warning, Clay stopped himself, instead moving back to where he was before.

"What do you know about the Fire Killer?" George got straight to the point. He had no more time to talk about his death.

"You mean Sapnap?" Recognition flashed in Clay's eyes.

"You two friends?" George raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah. Nick and I go way back," Clay smiled. George's eyes lit up. He reached for his notebook and began scribbling furiously. Clay's smile was replaced by a look of anger at himself.

"Do you happen to have a surname for me as well?" George coaxed.

"Don't push it, asshole. I didn't even mean to give you that, don't think you're getting anything else," Dream snarled.

"Alright, what about an address? A kill pattern? A motive?"

"I just said, you're not getting anything outta me. I don't have to tell you shit." Clay was beginning to get annoyed again. Was it worth actually sedating the killer?

"Well I guess I'll have to come back when you're feeling more co-operative," George finished, sighing as he went to grab his folder. He ripped the page with Sapna- Nick's name on it out of his notebook and stuck it in one of the clear files. Without another glance in Clay's direction, the FBI trainee turned on his heels and set off down the thin corridor.

"Wait!" Clay shouted. George spun back to face the blonde. Could he be about to tell me something?

"What about you, agent? I've told you oh so much about myself, isn't it your turn?" Dream's tone was sweet, innocent. It reminded George of the way that Niki spoke and it sent a wave of nausea crashing over him. Sam's words came back to him.

"Don't tell him anything personal. You don't want Dream inside your head."

"Well, if you don't tell me anything that I need to know, how can I trust you with that kind of information?" George knew that he was never going to give the psychopath anything worth noting, but he may as well milk the prospect a little.

"That's not very fair, now, is it?" Dream patronized, tilting his head to the side.

"Life isn't fair, Clay," George reminded the killer.