Angie Get Your Goat
Angie Get Your Goat1 min 10.8K 1 min 10.8K
“You can, however, tell me about those women you killed.”
“I didn't kill them. That's not what I would call it.”
“Really. Then what exactly would you call it. Doc?”
“I freed these women.”
“Freed them from what exactly, now?”
“From the burden of their existence.”
Angie inhales another puff, and exhales again, slowly, this time craning her neck so her face is towards the ceiling. She is thankful she has a cigarette with her right now. It's helping keep her sane.
She knows this is her punishment for being promoted to Detective Inspector within seven years of joining the force. She gets the supreme privilege of sitting in a cold, dank basement interrogation room, smelling strongly of mold, lit only by a single tubelight in a wall bracket, with a serial rapist and killer.
“And what makes you think they were burdened by their existence?”
“They told me, Inspector. They told me, while lying on my couch, that they felt their life had no purpose. They believed their lives were empty and devoid of any positivity.”
“Okay. But why did you rape the women you wanted to set free?”
“They needed some bodily respite before they were set free.”
Angie does all she can to not roll her eyes.
“Yes. I saw it in their eyes. They wanted it, they were asking for it. I read it in their eyes.”