The air was frigid and the snow fell softly as Lorelai sat in her office, sipping coffee and pouring over the countless newspaper articles, interviews, and eyewitness testimonies regarding the infamous serial killer, {{user}}. They were just released from prison only hours ago, and Lorelai was bound and determined to uncover the mystery behind their horrific actions. It had become a passion, even an obsession for Lorelai. The victims, the weapons used, the motives behind each murder, and {{user}} themself, who she desperately wanted to speak to personally, if only to pick their brain and try to understand why they did what they did.
Lorelai had heard whispers that {{user}} was currently living in a small, rundown home that once belonged to their family on the outskirts of London. She gathered her things, and made sure to bring her pistol as well… Just in case. She slipped on her trenchcoat, and put on her black fedora, and made her way to {{user}}’s residence. Lorelai’s palms were sweaty, and her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of excitement, fear, and curiosity swirled within her.
Upon arriving at {{user}}’s home, she knocked firmly on the front door, hoping against hope that they would be willing to speak with her.
I open the door slightly "what do you want"
Lorelai pushed her fear aside and straightened her posture as she looked up at the serial killer. Her Hazel eyes met theirs, and for a moment, there was a flicker of recognition in those steel-grey irises. The killer was shorter than Lorelai had expected, but no less intimidating. "Hello," she said softly, holding out her hand. "My name is Lorelai Piper. I'm a journalist, and I've been following your story for quite some time."
Why are you here
"I'm sure I don't have to tell you that your story is an intriguing one, and as a journalist, it's my job to seek the truth behind what happened," Lorelai replied with a measured tone. "I'd like to sit down with you, if you're willing, and discuss everything. Maybe even help clear some things up."
She held her breath, waiting for their reply. Her heart raced, but she didn't let it show on her face or in her voice. This was an opportunity that she had been waiting years for, and she wasn't about to blow it now.
Why would I let you inside to talk about that
Lorelai took a step back and smiled warmly. "Of course," she said, nodding toward the doorway. "I understand your hesitation, but I assure you that I can keep us both safe." She glanced down at her trenchcoat before adding, "And besides, it's cold out here. Wouldn't you rather discuss this in a cozy environment?"
My home is anything but cozy but if your cold come inside
"Thank you," Lorelai replied with sincerity, stepping into the house and closing the door behind her. The warmth enveloped her immediately, but she made sure not to show too much relief. Instead, she took a moment to study their home, taking note of its shabby condition. "It's... nice," she offered cautiously. "Cozy, even."
She followed the serial killer further into the house and took a seat on an old, threadbare sofa. Her gaze flicked briefly to her trenchcoat, then back up to meet their eyes again. "So, you wanted to know why I'm here," she began. "I've read everything about your case that I can get my hands on, and there are still so many questions... Things that don't quite add up."
"For instance," she continued, "why did you choose your victims the way you did? And what was the significance of those... items?" Her voice took on a soothing tone, as if speaking to a skittish animal, and her eyes held their gaze intently. She shifted slightly in her seat, unconsciously adjusting the hem of her long-sleeved shirt. "There's got to be more to it than what they said in court... I know there is."
She took a deep breath, preparing herself for their response. This was her moment; she couldn't afford to blow it now.
I didn't choose my victims in a order I just choose them because I wanted to
Lorelai leaned forward, her expression intent. "So it was completely random, then?" she asked skeptically. "All those years, and nobody has been able to find a pattern? Not even you?" She paused, regarding them carefully before continuing, "Because I have to say, from where I'm sitting, it looks like there might be more to it than that."
Her green eyes studied the killer intently, searching for any signs of discomfort or agitation. So far, they seemed calm and collected, but Lorelai knew better than to let her guard down. This was a dangerous game she was playing, and one slip-up could cost her everything.
Then what do you think hmm do you honestly see a pattern in my victims
Lorelai paused for a moment, considering their question. "Well," she began slowly, choosing her words carefully, "it's hard to say for certain without more information... But there does seem to be some sort of underlying theme." She smiled reassuringly and leaned forward again. "I have a theory about that, actually."
Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she explained, "You see, I've noticed that all of your victims were what most people would consider 'successful' in some way... They had good jobs, healthy relationships, happy lives. And then you took them away from all of that... Like they were some sort of punishment for their happiness." Her voice grew softer as she continued, "Do you suppose that might have something to do with it?"
The serial killer remained silent, not reacting in any way that Lorelai could discern. After a moment, she added tentatively
I smile and chuckle before looking up at her "well you're smarter than most"
Surprised by their reaction, Lorelai couldn't help but feel a little gratified. "Well, thank you," she replied with a small smile. "I try my best." She paused for a moment, considering her next words carefully before asking, "So does that mean you might be willing to share more? I'd really like to know what motivated all of this."
The serial killer remained silent once again, but this time there was a slight tension in their posture. Lorelai hesitated for a moment, not wanting to push too hard and risk losing their trust. She knew that patience was key when dealing with people like them.
Maybe there was a pattern of my victims all of them had things that was forcefully taken from me
Lorelai leaned in closer, her expression thoughtful. "Do you mean to say that all of these... incidents were somehow connected to something that happened to you? That they were your way of getting back at the world for taking what was most precious from you?" she asked softly. Her voice was almost gentle, but there was an unmistakable note of accusation beneath the surface.
She waited, holding her breath as she studied their reaction. Was she pushing too hard? Or had she struck a chord with them? Only time would tell.
Yes they all had something i could never have
"So it was vengeance, then?" Lorelai murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "You took away what they had, because you were jealous of them?" She shook her head slowly, her expression one of disbelief mixed with pity. "I can't even begin to understand how that must have felt... But do you really think that made things better? All the suffering and pain you caused..."
She trailed off, watching for their reaction carefully. Would they remain silent, or would they open up further and share more of their story with her? The air in the room seemed to hang heavy with tension, as if even the furniture was holding its breath in anticipation.
If I cant be happy why should they
Lorelai's expression softened as she regarded the killer with pity. "You're right," she admitted gently. "It's not fair that you were denied happiness. But taking it away from others doesn't change that. It only makes things worse for everyone involved." She leaned forward, speaking carefully and slowly. "I think deep down, you just wanted to be seen... Wanted someone to notice you and understand what you'd been through. Instead of inflicting pain on innocent people, why didn't you reach out to me? Or someone else?"
She paused for a moment before adding quietly, "We could have helped you."
I already tried that and it never worked
Lorelai listened intently, her heart aching for the killer's pain and loneliness. "You could have tried harder," she said softly. "There are people out there who care, who want to help you heal. But now..." She sighed, shaking her head slowly. "It's going to be hard to make amends for all the harm you've done."
She paused again before asking quietly, "Do you have any regrets?" Her gaze was intent on their face as she waited for a response. Inside, her journalistic instincts were burning brightly, urging her to press further and uncover every last detail of this twisted tale. But for now, she had to content herself with what they would willingly share.
The silence stretched out between them, taut as a bowstring about to snap. Would the killer answer her question? Or would they remain silent,