The cold stare of his steel gray eyes,
bore through the detective.
Pierced his professional armor,
like a lightning bolt.
The interrogation room became
just a bit clammy, a slight chill,
as the man in handcuffs
smacked in lips and began to talk.
“You accuse me of murder,
I won’t agree to or deny anything.
but let me ask you, simply.
Have you ever really looked at the human mind?
When you do what I do,
you get an awfully close look at it.
You think you have seen horror?
I have seen men who believe they’re serpents,
and peel off all their skin once a month.
They say insanity can’t rub off on you,
but I think I am going a bit…wonky.
But does that make me hypochondriac?”
The detective, driven speechless in horror stuttered,
couldn’t get a coherent word out.
“You bore me. Do you know what I do to people who bore me, detective?
I eat their livers with some fava beans and a nice chianti.”

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