Two Of Hearts

2.1 - The Psychopath

Seyren's POV

Psychopath...

"Alexa, what is a psychopath?"

"A psychopath is an individual with a personality disorder characterized by persistent antisocial behavior, impaired empathy and remorse, and bold, disinhibited, and egotistical traits. Psychopathy is often associated with a lack of conscience, manipulative behavior, superficial charm, and a failure to form genuine emotional attachments. Psychopaths may engage in criminal activities and are often skilled at deceiving others. The term is used in both clinical and criminal contexts, though it is not officially recognized as a diagnosis in the DSM-5, which instead refers to Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD)"

Devil...

"Alexa, how do you know if someone's a psychopath?"

"Identifying a psychopath typically involves a comprehensive psychological assessment by a trained mental health professional. However, there are certain traits and behaviors that may suggest someone has psychopathic tendencies. These include: 1. Superficial Charm 2. Manipilativeness 3. Lack of Empathy 4. Grandiose Sense of Self-Worth 5. Pathological Lying 6. Lack of Remorse or Guilt 7. Impulsivity 8. Poor Behavioral Controls 9. Irresponsibility 10. Parasitic Lifestyle 11. Failure to Accept Responsibility. A widely used tool for assessing psychopathy is the Hare Psychopathy Checklist-Revised (PCL-R), developed by Dr. Robert Hare. It is a diagnostic tool used to rate a person's psychopathic or antisocial tendencies based on specific criteria."

"Psychopath... was born?"

---

"May nahanap kana diyan?" I shook my head at Detective Sky's question.

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair in frustration and annoyance.

We had been searching for the victim's missing fingers for nearly a week, but we had only found a few.

"Go back to headquarters; I'll handle things here," she commanded.

I nodded and complied, feeling the weight of our unsuccessful efforts pressing down on me.

Using my moped, I made my way to our headquarters, the hum of the engine doing little to distract me from the growing list of questions in my mind.

Upon my arrival, my team immediately surrounded me, their faces etched with anticipation.

They bombarded me with questions about the search, eager for any updates.

When I informed them of our failure, a collective groan of frustration echoed through the room, amplifying my own sense of disappointment.

I headed straight to my desk and began reading through all the papers containing the responses from our interviews with the victim's former enemies.

Each statement echoed the same sentiment: their conflict with the victim stemmed from her change of religion.

Once a devout Catholic, he had converted to Satanism, a decision that had alienated him from those around him.

They had been trying to persuade him to return to his former faith, but their attempts were met with aggression.

As I pored over the documents, my concentration was interrupted by Detective Guerrero.

"Oh, Detective Valencia, come eat with me," he said, approaching me with a takeout meal from Jollibee.

"Ngayon ka lang kakain?" I asked, puzzled. It was already 3 PM, and I hadn't had lunch yet, but skipping meals wasn't unusual for me, especially when I was fasting.

"He was waiting for you, Detective Valencia. 1:30 palang kumain na kami pero hinintay ka niya para daw may kasabay ka" one of our colleagues explained, glancing at Detective Guerrero, who smiled warmly at me.

"Really?" I asked, touched by the gesture.

He nodded and offered the food again.

I had no choice but to accept it, not wanting to waste the meal he had thoughtfully saved for me.

I ate with him, my eyes still glued to the papers.

The food provided a much-needed boost, but my mind remained focused on the case.

"So, what's the latest in your case? Skyler took over, so I'm out of the loop." Detective Guerrero asked between bites.

"We've only found two fingers so far. We have no idea where the other eight are," I replied simply, frustration seeping into my voice.

"And all our interviewees have the same story. They didn't even know the victim had died. What puzzles us is the connection between his religion and the brutal nature of his death," I added, voicing the question that had been nagging at me.

"Detective Avellino said it wasn't just a normal killer who attacked the victim. It's a psychopath, but I don't know what that is," I said, looking at Detective Guerrero as he snapped his fingers, a spark of realization in his eyes.

"She could be right. Psychopaths slaughter people for entertainment. They're like a different breed of human, and they can act just like normal people with normal minds," he explained, his tone grave.

"They lack empathy, and their sense of morality is skewed. They see others as mere objects, means to an end."

"You've been in this field of work for years now. Have you met a psychopath before?" I asked, setting aside the papers I'm reading.

"Oo naman, naalala ko pa nun I'm still a new rookie cop and nagbibigay pa lang ako ng pagkain sa mga inmates. Doon nakita ko si Red Bull."

"Who's Red Bull?" Detective Guerrero furrowed his brow and paused his eating.

"You don't know who Red Bull is?" he asked. I shook my head, intrigued by his question.

"Are you sure you don't know him? He was the most feared killer because he could travel to different countries just to kill people. In the past thirty years, he was the psychopath with the highest body count. He killed almost 813 people worldwide." I grimaced at his words, unable to imagine the fear people must have felt during that time.

"How was he caught?"

"He wasn't caught; he turned himself in. Why? No one knows." His statement only deepened my confusion.

"If you want, we can visit him. As detectives, we have the right," he suggested. My eyes widened at his words, and I showed an expression of fear.

"No way!" I exclaimed, my voice rising.

"Why not? Are you scared?" he teased, and I didn't deny it. I nodded eagerly.

"Who wouldn't be scared? You just said he killed over 800 people," I reasoned, moving slightly away from him since he was sitting next to me.

He gave me a broad smile and ruffled my neatly combed hair.

"You're really cute and so innocent. I was just joking." I frowned at his comment and continued eating.

"Akala ko seryoso ka, kinabahan ako dun" kumento ko na tinawanan niya.

The rest of my day was filled with work. When I decided to go home, Detective Guerrero, who had a big bike, joined me.

"Do you have a day off tomorrow?" he asked as we walked to the parking lot. I nodded in response.

"Perfect, I'm off too. Let's go out and relieve some work stress," he suggested as we approached our bikes, which were parked next to each other.

My moped looked tiny next to his beautiful big bike.

"I have a schedule tomorrow. My dad wants me to move back into our house, so I'll be busy moving stuff all day." I replied politely, grabbing my helmet.

"I'll help you!" he volunteered to adjust my helmet, and I didn't complain.

"What about in the evening? Are you free?" he asked, looking into my eyes. I looked back at him emotionlessly.

"Maybe, if I finish early." I shrugged, taking off my ID and putting on my leather jacket since it was quite cold.

"If you finish early, let's go to a bar, okay?" I turned away from him, smiling where he couldn't see.

"Sure, as long as you're paying." I said, sitting on my moped.

"Great, just text me if you're free, and I'll give you the location," he replied. I nodded, said goodbye, and headed to my condo.

The drive home was easy since there were no cars on the road.

When I got to my condo unit, I ran into my next-door neighbor, Neome, in the building.

"Let me help you with that!" I said, rushing over when I saw her struggling to press the elevator button because of her heavy bags.

I slid my foot into the elevator and pressed the button.

I smiled at her, and she smiled back.

"You're home early," she noted. I took some of her groceries to lighten her load.

"I couldn't stomach seeing another corpse," I joked, making her laugh.

"What about you? Bakit gabi kana mag grocery? You should have waited for me so you'd have someone to protect you if some creep came along," I said, pouting.

Neome laughed at my overprotectiveness.

"Oh, you're too sweet. I didn't want to bother you. I know you've been busy with work." she replied.

"Still, I don't like the idea of you being out alone this late," I said, giving her a serious look.

"Alright, I'm sorry" she said, rolling her eyes but smiling.

"Mami-miss ko yang pagka gentlewoman mo. Hayss"

"Ako hindi mo mami-miss?" I asked, pointing at myself. She shook her head in response.

"Edi 'wag." I acted as if I'm sulking. She giggled and lean her head on my shoulder.

"Of course I'll miss my sweet girl next door. Pero sure naman akong bibisitahin mo ako. I'm your bff, you can't abandoned me just because you're moving." She moved back a little and stand right in front of me with her eyes squinted.

"Kapag ako ghinost mo, mumultuhin ka ng mga bangkay ng biktimang nakita mo." I showed him a fearful expression, and she responded with a hearty laugh, teasing me about being overdramatic.

Her amusement only made me more self-conscious, but I couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and amusement at her reaction.

This woman is really something else.

Is she my best friend, or is she just someone who enjoys pushing my buttons and teasing me?

We finally reached our floor, and I helped her carry the groceries to her door.

"Thanks for the help, baby" Neome said, unlocking her door.

"You're a lifesaver."

"Anytime, Neome," I said with a grin.

"Take care and have a good night."

"You too," she replied, kissing my cheek and showing me a warm smile before disappearing into her apartment.

I walked to my own door, feeling a sense of satisfaction.

It was nice to know that despite the chaos and darkness of my job, I could still help and protect the people around me.

Upon entering my condo, I kicked off my shoes and made a beeline for the kitchen, feeling an urgent need to quench my thirst.

The cool, dimly lit space of the kitchen seemed to offer a temporary refuge from the day's stress.

As I opened the fridge, a wave of disappointment hit me.

The shelves were bare, and my favorite lemon juice was nowhere to be found.

It was as if my small sanctuary had been stripped of its comforts.

The absence of the lemon juice, in particular, felt like a significant blow.

I had been craving it all day, and the thought of not having it was more frustrating than I'd anticipated.

Despite how tired I was, I couldn't ignore the urge to get that refreshing drink.

I knew that even a short trip to the store would lift my spirits.

Determined, I changed into something more comfortable, opting for relaxed attire that contrasted sharply with the more formal work clothes I had been wearing all day.

I then grabbed my leather jacket, which added a touch of style and warmth, and made sure to wear my mask and cap.

The mask was not only practical for health reasons but also served as a small shield from the eyes of the outside world.

The cap helped me blend in, as I didn't want to draw unnecessary attention.

With everything in place, I stepped out of my condo and glanced around the hallway, making sure no one was around to see me leave.

The hallway felt eerily quiet, amplifying the sound of my footsteps as I navigated toward the building's exit.

The need for that lemon juice felt like a mission, and I was eager to complete it.

---

??? POV

Tonight, I made a decision to once again judge those who live by demonic principles.

I ventured down a shadowy path towards a location where a fleet of luxurious cars was parked.

This wasn't just any parking lot; it was a vast room filled with vehicles, all belonging to one individual.

I was sent once more by God to carry out His divine judgment on those who defy His will.

I am His chosen judge, His instrument of retribution.

And now, I have found my target for this judgment.

"Mr. Kim," my voice reverberated through the expansive room, which stretched over nearly half a hectare.

The lighting was dim, neither completely dark nor fully illuminated, creating an eerie ambiance.

"Who are you? How did you-" His voice faltered as he turned to face me, but before he could process the situation, I hurled my knife, and it embedded itself in his chest.

The event happened so swiftly that it left him bewildered.

We were a few meters apart-close enough for him to sense the intensity of the moment but far enough that he struggled to see my face clearly.

A large window provided the only source of light, casting the yellow, round moon's glow across my face.

The moonlight illuminated only my eyes, as the mask and cap obscured the rest of my features.

As my victim knelt, I approached him slowly, each step deliberate.

The floor was slick, allowing me to glide effortlessly toward him.

When I reached him, I stopped directly in front of him, drawing a fresh knife from my side. With precision, I plunged the blade into his throat.

His blood erupted and stained my clothes, but I was fortunate to be clad entirely in black.

The dark fabric absorbed the crimson splatter, masking the evidence of my work.

This was merely the beginning of my judgment.

My task was far from over, and the night had only just begun.

As I relentlessly continued to stab him, his anguished cries blended with the distant howling of rabid dogs outside.

The cacophony of pain and madness seemed almost surreal, and I found a grim satisfaction in knowing that his suffering would go unnoticed, swallowed by the emptiness of the night.

I grinned, fully aware that no one would come to his aid.

I drove the knife into him four, five, maybe even ten times, each stab precise and methodical.

The speed and efficiency of my actions were almost mechanical, honed by countless similar tasks.

When he finally collapsed to the floor, his blood began to flow freely from his mouth, painting a grotesque picture of his final moments.

His eyes remained wide open, staring vacantly at nothing. Gently, I closed his eyes, giving him a semblance of peace in his final moments.

With a practiced ease, I brought his palms together, as if in prayer, and carefully placed him inside one of his luxurious cars.

The opulence of the vehicle seemed almost incongruous with the grim task at hand, but it served its purpose well.

On the driver's seat, I found a rosary. I wrapped it around the victim's hands, a final gesture of irony in the face of his betrayal.

"Amen," I uttered softly, using my gloved index finger to clean his mouth of blood and then drew a cross on his chest with his own blood.

The cross, a symbol of faith and redemption, was a stark contrast to the violence that had just transpired.

A satisfied sigh escaped my lips as I stepped out of the vast, echoing garage.

The act of judgment had been executed with precision, and I felt a profound sense of fulfillment.

How I cherish being an instrument of God's will, carrying out His judgments with unwavering dedication.

---

No one's POV

As the sun ascended in the sky, it gradually dispelled the remnants of night and welcomed the world with a vibrant and serene morning.

The day's light unfurled, gradually brightening the surroundings and heralding a new beginning for everyone.

The bustling city came to life, with people engaging in their daily routines, their activities gradually increasing as the sun climbed higher.

Amid this lively morning, two close friends, Seyren and Neome, were deeply involved in organizing the belongings Seyren was bringing to her new residence.

They worked together with a shared sense of purpose.

"Is this all you're taking with you?" Neome inquired, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

She had volunteered to help Seyren, knowing full well that Seyren's plans were often unstructured and spontaneous.

"Yes, why?" Seyren responded, her amusement evident as she observed her friend's reaction.

"You're only taking two suitcases. Are you absolutely sure?" Neome persisted, clearly astonished by the minimal amount of belongings.

"Yes, that's it. Why?" Seyren chuckled at Neome's incredulity, finding her friend's reaction both amusing and endearing.

"You're remarkably efficient with your laundry," Neome commented, her tone laced with playful sarcasm.

"I'm simply too lazy to shop for more clothes. Thanks for helping out, by the way; I'll make it up to you next time."

"Who is this man?" Neome asked, referring to the man on the poster.

"That man? It's Verick Lim Jeon, my favorite actor of all time" Seyren said with a wink, lifting her box and heading out of the condo.

Neome, left behind, wore a broad smile.

Despite feeling a tinge of sadness at her friend's departure, she was pleased that Seyren would no longer have to live alone.

Neome knew Seyren well; despite being of an age where self-care should be second nature, Seyren often struggled with managing her own affairs.

Neome had taken it upon herself to look after her friend, ensuring she didn't falter.

Basically becoming an unofficial mother of Seyren.

As Neome exited the building, she saw Seyren arranging items in the backseat of her car.

"Here's more of your stuff," Neome said, presenting the two suitcases she had carried.

Seyren thanked her and placed the suitcases in the trunk of the car.

"Before we head to my place, let's grab a bite at McDonald's. It's on me," Seyren offered with a radiant smile.

Neome raised an eyebrow, aware that Seyren's income was barely sufficient for her own needs and desires.

"And then later, you'll be broke," Neome teased, her voice tinged with concern.

"It's fine; I'm a detective now. My salary is more than enough, so let's go!" Seyren insisted with enthusiasm.

"Are you really sure about this?"

xxxxx

To be continued....