The lock of the interrogation room clacks open and two figures enter, flicking the light on as they step inside. A man and woman in police uniform sit themselves on the cold, metal chairs at the table, across from a middle-aged man asleep with his head down. 

The male cop gets up and shoves the other man. “Wake up,” he demands, “We need to talk, Robert” A couple seconds pass, then he jerks awake with his hair swinging out of his face. The shock of being handcuffed to the table kicks in and he starts to ferociously tug at them. He stops, whereupon he attempts to blink the sleep out of his eyes and scan the room.

“What’s going on? Why am I here? ” Robert inquires as he swivels his head, analyzing 

the cops and his surroundings frantically.

The male cop squats on his seat and rests his hands on the table with a stern look on his face. “Like I said, we need to talk.” He gestures for the file the female cop holds and hands it to him.

“I’m Officer Owen Briggs and this is Commissioner Jessica Thorne who will be recording our conversation for today,” he says, “We need you to tell us everything about this man that visits your café frequently.” Owen opens the file, takes out a bundle of papers with a paperclip holding it together. He places it on the table, rotated so the man could see. 

“That’s Harold Grey, he comes every day,” Robert states.

“But it is says on his file that his real name is John Mason. Are you telling the truth?”

“Yes, I am. Why would I lie to you, and what’s in this for you?” Robert questions almost offensively.

“Okay, okay, no need to get heated. Let's just cut to the chase. I need you to tell me everything you know about this man and his behavior.”

“Why do you need to know everything about this man? Stop bugging me and let me go!” 

Owen gets up and strikes Robert in the nose, spraying blood on the off-white wall. “Enough with these games you’re playing! Just shut up and tell us already!” 

“Just answer this one question and then I’ll obey: why?” He smirks a bloody grin.

“The world is a dark place and it’s only getting darker. This man could be the key to ending these world crises and lies plus time is running slim. So just shut your trap and respond with honesty!” Owen shouts in Robert’s face, sighs, then plops on his metal chair. “So, tell me everything you know.”

The annoying buzz of the fluorescent light bulbs cuts the awkward silence that befalls the interrogation room. Robert shifts in his seat and stares at the table, then takes a deep breath. “It was about four years ago when he started coming to my café. He was quite quiet, always sat in the very remote parts like the back close to the restrooms. Always ordered black coffee, never put sugar or cream in, just straight black. He would spend entire days at times in the café, from opening to closing hours and invest all of his time on his laptop. The scariest of all is that he always had this... psychotic smile on face as he typed away on his keyboard at unimaginable speeds.” Jessica Thorne keeps her eyes locked on the notepad as she scribbles the conversation quickly.

“Is that all?” Owen Asks.

“Just… one more thing. It was maybe two years ago, give or take, and I saw something out of the ordinary on his laptop screen. I was going to the storage to get some more coffee beans as we were running low, which is close to the restrooms where ‘Harold’ sits near. On my way out, I got a quick peek of his doings and could see a split-screen with multiple camera views on it. It seemed to me that these cameras were from the perspective of random people; you could see their every doing as he commanded them through some kind of code. These ‘people’ he’s controlling, they could be anywhere, it could even be someone you know! I don’t know what he’s trying to accomplish but I—” Suddenly, Jessica releases the notebook and pencil, stands up and motions to the door. 

Owen looks at her with confusion. “Um, what are you doing, Thorne?” She opens the door and it clicks shut behind her. 

Owen turns back to the man with a baffled look on his face. “Probably getting some coffee,” He exhales, “Okay, well then, guess I’ll have to record myself. You may continue.”

~ ~ ~

Somewhere in the living room of an unknown town sits a crazy human on his couch, glaring at the bright screen of his laptop that illuminates the dark room. On his screen is not multiple camera views, but just one. 

“Um, what are you doing, Thorne?” Blares a static male voice. The man types some code and the perspective moves and exits the door. The viewpoint walks down a hallway passing police officers, and opens a locked door into an armoury. It walks over to a cabinet with hands coming into view, then opening it and grabbing a pistol. The hands work away as they screw on a silencer. The perspective makes its way back to the interrogation room as the deranged man snickers as he types away.

~ ~ ~

“So, it says here on the file that—” the door swings open, “Oh, Jessica, you’re back!” Jessica raises the gun and fires at Owen, smiling as his corpse spills onto the floor. She turns her neck in an artificial way and grins as she shuts the door. 

Robert struggles to put his shaking hands up. “What do you want. I’ll tell you anything. Just please don’t hurt me.”

Jessica takes a seat and points the gun at him. “Actually, I would like you to shut up; don’t speak a bloody word. You should keep stuff like this to yourself, or bad things will happen to you.”

The man is weeping, the tears rehydrating the coagulated blood crusted on his face. “I swear I won’t let out a single word!” Robert pleads. 

“You see, I can’t trust you.” She sneers with joy. “It really is a shame, your coffee was quite splendid. I liked it very much.” Jessica cocks the gun and pulls the trigger on the man. Robert falls back in his chair and sits still as one final tear rolls down the mess of his face. She stands up and leaves the room, locking it on the way out. 

~ ~ ~

A few weeks later Jessica Thorne was convicted of 2nd-degree murder and was sentenced to life imprisonment. On the day she went to testify at court, John Mason, also known as Harold Grey, self-destructed Jessica, killing 17 people and injuring over 20, covering all traces of controlled humans. From that point onward, many cases of John Mason were mysteriously terminated as of his malicious and ingenious plans, so that he can sit at his laptop and smile that same wide smile.  :)