Sophie's body jerked awake to the smell of gasoline I drenched into her clothes. I'm glad I found a place with a chair to tie her to. Better to see her struggle the restrained I added around her wrists and ankles.

She struggled frantically for a couple of seconds while battling an expected splitting headache, before spotting me in the dark. She growled muffled frustration in my direction through the cloth tied around her mouth.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that." I leaned an ear at her, stepping closer. She couldn't reach any of her weapons even if I hadn't stripped her off them. Putting one hand under her chin and lifting her head up, I examined the bloody gash at the back of her head. The crowbar did a number, but it clotted up nicely. I moved her head back and dragged the cloth down from her mouth with my thumb. "Care to repeat yourself?"

Now she just glared back at me with a scowl, staring right back into my eyes. What a different expression from the one she wore at the station. I guess our little Officer like to play pretend, too.

"Nothing, huh? Guess it wasn't that important." I shrug and let go of her face, leaning back. "And in case you're wondering, it's not kerosene."

"I'll let the publishers know they have engaged in false advertisement." she narrowed her eyes, talking through her teeth.

What an unusual, yet understandable hostility. She was surprisingly collected and focused even with the fumes rising from my homemade flammable concoction. Fumes that'll usually make most people's head spin. I highly doubt an investigator, even of her rank, would be required to build up a tolerance to these sorts of things.

That was certainly admirable. "I like that look. That's your true face, isn't it? This is what you hide in this theater of a police station."

Her expression was unchanged. In fact, she even seemed more relaxed as she straightened up in her chair, as much as the restraints allowed her to. "You don't really expect me to act all nice and sweet to my villainous capture."

Villainous? Got to admit, I like the sound of that. "Oh, it's much more than that. It goes deeper, in the deepest reaches of your brain, Officer." I leaned forward again, grasping the corners of the shoulder-high backrest of the chair. "We are the same, Cooper." I whisper, taking delight in her angered attempt to lunge at me, fruitlessly fighting her restraints. "Only difference being our stance regarding lighting people in fire."

Sophie's hands balled into fists, leering without a blink. "I hope you die in a fire." she almost just mouthed that part. "How's that for a stance?"

I couldn't help but smile, feeling the rekindling embers in my guts. "Don't threaten me with a good time, Officer."

She returned the gesture, inching her face closer, her voice turning toxic. "Does that make you a whore?"

Chuckling at the effort, I lift one hand off the chair and trail the side of her face and down her jaw line with two fingers, running them under her chin to lift her head up again, before leaning to whisper into her ear. "Takes one to know one."

She violently shook her head to bat me off, forcing me to move away to not get head-butted. "You want to add sexual assault to your list of charges?"

"Sexual?" I wondered, leaning back again. "Don't flatter yourself, Cooper."

"Touché, Thomas." she almost hissed, baring her teeth to the point her gums started showing. "However, I couldn't fathom why you're taking your sweet time..."

"Oh? I've yet to see someone so willing for their own demise." Not before the dental overhaul, that is. "Clearly, I wouldn't pass on an opportunity to savor the capturing of a police officer. But, perhaps you have a point; time is truly of an essence."

With that I grabbed her face again, pressing hard at the side of her jaws to force her mouth open, placing a thick metal plate between her teeth - but not before she courageously bit down on my fingers.

Flinching at the pain a little, my gloves allowed me to slip my hand from her mouth and press her lower jaw against the tough surface.

"Well...You know how this goes from here on." I mused and increased the pressure against her jaw, moving away one hand in preparation. "After all, you went through all of these gruesome crime scene and autopsy photos, didn't you?"

Just then, something struck me as odd.

Sophie stopped resisting. Her body slackened almost completely, and she just stared back at me. But it wasn't a show of defeat. I've seen defeated victims before, almost every time. Something was different about her. Through the forced expression the metal plate twisted her face into, a twitch of a smile flashed for a moment.

She wasn't surrendering.

"Stalling for time, Cooper?" I pulled the plate from between her teeth, leaving small, bloody cuts on the corners of her mouth, accenting her smile.

"I was really worried that you'd be more thorough in your disarmament." she hummed at me as I tossed the plate aside.

"A tracker."

"Too little, too late."

I listened closely. The police cars were already circling the place, sirens blaring. It'd be useless to even light a match right now.

Her bewildered expression as I began chuckling was a nice closure to this endeavor. I turned to the sound of thundering boots storming the door, turning my back to Sophie and taking the expected shoulder-width stance, crossing my hands behind my head.

It was no time before the doors of the warehouse were busted open with a list two units worth of policemen.

"Hands up! Drop your-" the commander's voice trailed off seeing me, the obvious culprit, already in position. It may have also been the overpowering scent of gasoline filling the room.

"You might want to get to your officer there, open wounds and gasoline don't mix well." Stricken by the nonchalant tone and clearly feeling as though they're being lead to a trap, the units circled around me to free Officer Cooper, while the commander made a beeline towards me, keeping his gun aimed high.

"You are hereby charged with the assault and kidnapping of Investigative Officer Sophie Cooper!" he hollered. He pretty much got it down.

"Don't forget attempted murder." Sophie huffed as she was set free from her restraints, walking past us accompanied by one of the units.

I find myself laugh at the casualty of her remark, teasing back. "You might want to get that washed, Officer."

She leered at me one more time over her shoulder before leaving the place, and the other unit proceeded to pat me down before handcuffing my wrists behind my back.

Every time I glanced at one of them, I saw the same look of doubt and confusion at how calmly I cooperated being lead out and into the police car.

As they were driving to the station for what I could only assume was further questioning, I really had just one concern in mind.

"Hey." I addressed the cop in the passenger's seat, staring at him until he reluctantly turned around, clearly trying to ignore me. "You got a smoke?"

There wasn't much questioning at the station, just some affirmation. After all, I had nothing to hide, no partners in crime to declare; I actually had to make it clear that some people associated with me really had no idea of my doings.

No family they can tattle to, either.

I admitted to the murder of Matthew Martin, the murder of the six other victims reported before him, the other few after him, as well as some unreported ones - victims that up until now were just dead-end 'missing person' cases.

The look of shock on the investigators' faces was a charming sight to behold. Some of them looked absolutely infuriated. I liked that. Bet I could push it a little further. Serves them right for denying me a smoke before this whole confessions session started.

"Chief." I looked to the side at the one-sided window, as the investigator in front of me signed some of the forms following my statements. I knew the Chief of Police wouldn't miss my arrest for the world. But it never hurts to make sure. "Come on, big guy. I know you're there."

Sure enough, the intercom clicked into life within seconds. "What do you want, you wretch?"

"Isn't your kid on the missing cases, too? Still haven't closed the lid on this one?" I really hoped I was looking at him, because I could hear some clattering around the microphone at the other end.

"What's it to you, fucking murderer?" I could hear his jaws clench. Hit the weak spot.

"About a year and a half ago, right?" Even the investigators in the room were clearly getting anxious. "Was supposed to come back from a trip, meet you at the airport? Never showed up?"

There was silence on the other side, interrupted by forced, heavy breathing. "What. Exactly. Are you saying?"

Sweet denial. I chuckled. "Take a fucking guess, Chief."

His voice roared from the adjacent room before he slammed his fist against the other side of the glass, that would have probably shattered if it wasn't reinforced and bulletproof, and it sounded like whoever was there with him was holding him back from bursting into the room.

For the first time since I can remember, I threw my head back, laughing and slightly pulled on the cuffs chaining me to the table, making all personnel jump and clearly putting them on edge.

With that final nail in the coffin, I was unchained from the table and escorted out of the room and into temporary incarceration until all bureaucracy regarding the death penalty, by lethal injection.

No need for trial; no one will defend a murderer admitting to several first-degree murders while being clear minded, making a claim for insanity pretty far-fetched.

Not that I mind.

I knew exactly where this would eventually lead me.

And if I wouldn't be caught, smoking would've probably done this to the same effect.

Speaking of which...

I could really use a smoke.

The next day I was already driven to the nearest prison with an execution chamber after a good night sleep, albeit a short one.

I was put in the back of a prison-service van, windowless with two armed guards making sure that...Well, it's beyond me what they think I could actually do here, in the back, still in cuffs.

I'd be happy to kick their stupid head into the wall behind them, but I'm not too far gone to overlook their helmets and rifle. True, I'm driven to my certain death, but that's hardly a reason to get shot multiple times on close range.

By the time we got to the prison they both seemed very unsettled by how quiet the ride went, without a single word being uttered.

They both escorted me inside where the Warden waited along with the staff that would be administrating the injection. I'll spare you the details of how the paperwork of putting me under the responsibility of the state in order to perform the execution.

I was taken to be properly dressed for the occasion. The sterile smell of the new clothes made me sick, lacking the familiar, soothing scent of tar and nicotine. After a short argument with the orderly, I was eventually allowed to keep my gloves on. You have to enjoy your small victories, too.

Guess I was well-behaved enough for them to allow me to walk to execution chamber rather than being rolled over there, still escorted, this time by both the security guards as well as the execution team.

Right in front of the door to the execution chamber stood a priest clad in black, as they all are. He was making the sign of the cross. How laughable.

I made a sharp move towards him right in the middle of whatever blessing he mumbled into these fatty neck-rolls, making him jump with a terrified shriek, and having the entire escort crew around grabbing me and pulling me back.

For once I resisted, stretching my neck out at the priest, grinning. "Do you really think someone like me has a god to forgive him?" I made my tone as sarcastic as possible. "Better be on your best behavior, or I'll see you down in the inferno of hell." was the last I managed to say before I was forcefully pulled back and away from him.

Having his back pressed against the wall, the priest fled as soon as I was pulled away from him, clenching his cross pendant in his hand like he had just seen the devil.

Not saying he's wrong.

Once in the execution chamber, I was strapped by restraints to a gurney by my ankles and wrists. The security guards remained outside as the execution team inserted the IV tubes into both of my arms, one for each, walking through a door behind me and into the anteroom to make sure with the executioner themselves that everything is prepared and authorized, before walking back into the execution room.

I could feel the saline solution flowing into my arms through the tubes, preparing to conduct the three-part lethal injection.

"Any last words, Mr. Oyler?" one of them asked, as per customary.

"This all goes or record, right?"

"Yes, yes it does."

I grinned at the crew member, seeing his discomfort as I practically spell out my carefully picked final statement.

"I regret nothing."

They jotted something down and went back to the anteroom with the executioner once all was ready. I leaned my head back, waiting.

First click.

The first, warm flush of anesthetics.

I feel my body gradually getting heavy, and my sight is quickly reduced to a spinning tunnel-vision. My slipping awareness tries to fight the chemicals and remain strong. How humane of them, to put even the most heartless of killers to a deep, drug induced sleep before administrating the lethal drugs to the system.

Second click.

Saline solution flushes through my veins before the next agent is administrated. If my body felt heavy before, now it slowly feels nothing at all. I take several more deep breaths before the paralyzing agent takes effect, and pushing down my diaphragm to fill my lungs with air becomes increasingly harder.

I breathed for as long as I could until my body went still, as complete muscle paralysis has set in.

Almost complete.

Third click.

Another intravenous flush, before something starts beating violently in my chest. My heart, the one thing so many have claimed that I don't have, I could almost believe them.

It went wild in distress with the third and final injection interrupting the electrical signals keeping it beating, disrupting its steady rhythm, making it flutter chaotically until all electrical flow to it was cut completely, and it silently settled into its final rest.

Everything was gone now.

My vision has darkened long ago.

Nothing was heard, not even within my own body.

I couldn't even feel anything beneath me.

I was just floating adrift in the void, with my sense of conscious perception seemingly hanging by a thread.

That was until a bright flash tore through the eternal void, sending a splitting pain right through my head and torso.

It's as though I've just been dying for ages, but...

Could this be what death is really like?