"Hello, Jason," Jack said, grabbing the chair that had been set against the wall for him and setting it up a good distance away from Jason's. "I'm Jack. I'm here to interview you, I mean, you are a legend now." Jason blinked and looked at Jack indifferently for a moment, seeming to scan him over, to read him. Jack looked closely at Jason, realizing how this man could be intimidating. Jason's blonde hair was disheveled, his blue eyes ringed with what appeared to be eyeliner. He looked like he was a tall man, maybe 6 foot give or take an inch. Jason's eyes met Jack's for an instant, and Jack felt an indescribable stabbing pain in his head. He looked down, wondering where the pain came from. Maybe it was all in his head. "So, Jason, you've had the biggest body count of this century. How do you feel about that? Any guilt?" An impish grin spread over the young man's features at the question. "I was going for Hollywood proportions. I think I succeeded. I'm proud of what I've accomplished," Jason said enthusiastically, leaning back in his chair.

"And guilt? Why? I didn't personally know any of them. And those I did know," he looked Jack in the eyes to emphasize his point, "deserved it." Jack's hands began to shake a little, and he tried his damnedest to keep his fear from showing. "Now, why did you decide to begin your...masacre?" Jack asked, hoping to sound stronger than he felt, but failing miserably. As a matter of fact, the expression on his face elicited a little chortle of laughter from the murderer. "When I realized there were so many assholes in the world. Somebody needed to teach these motherfuckers some respect, am I wrong? Many of them, I did know, the rest I didn't need to. You could see it in them. The ugliness they possessed showed through in their actions. They weren't aware, but most of them volunteered to be slaughtered." Jason said these words without an ounce of emotion, but it was more than obvious that he meant and believed what he was saying. "Now, can you tell me something about some of the victims?" Jason looked at Jack evenly and sighed a little. "Well," Jason began, blinking a few times, a thoughtful expression crossing his face," the first one is always the most memorable. Do you remember hearing about Kristina Bell? Yeah, she had it coming. She was one of those girls who didn't think that any one guy was good enough for her, so she had to have several. I was in love with that girl.

I was prepared to spend the rest of my life with her even at seventeen. One night, she and I were out together on a date. She was acting so wierd, and I knew something had to be up. I didn't want to accuse her of anything, though. Like I said, I loved her, and I wanted to trust her. Well, we left the place, and drove to her place, and I noticed that someone was following us all the way, so when I got there, we got out of the car, and the car that was following us stopped, too. Ched Henders got out of the car and came up to me, cussing me out, and he hit me. I asked him 'What the fuck, man?' and he looked at me and told me to stay the hell away from his girlfriend. His girlfriend, can you believe that shit?...Well, the argument moved into the house and it dawned on me, I finally got the smarts, to realize that this bitch was a cock hound. I was pissed. She tried to tell me she loved me, but I just snapped. I broke the nearby mirror against a wall and left a jagged, deep cut across her beautiful neck. She fell, and I felt nothing. Then, I killed Ched the same way. I saw the blood and knew that I had to get the hell out of there. I got in my car and drove. I just drove until I didn't recognize the town I was in, then I pulled over on the outskirts of the next town. It was dark, but I could feel their blood on me. I sat in the car, wondering how I could've snapped like that. It just didn't make sense. I had never killed anything before, but somehow, killing those two felt so natural."

Jason looked around for a glass of water after he finished the story, and Jack sat still, stunned. "What?" Jason fumed irritably, "Yeah, fine, I'm a monster. Whatever, think what you will. Your'e capable of the same things as I." Jack thought about this, and thought, to his chagrin, about his own cheating wife. He forced the thoughts away from his mind. "How old are you now?" Jack asked quietly, still flustered by his own thoughts. "I'm twenty three." Jason answered simply. "So you've managed to outrun the police since you were seventeen? That is quite impressive." Jason shook his head dismissively, "Nah, it's actually easier than you'd think. The pigs are just a bunch of fuckin' putses. They don't know what they're looking for unless it slaps them in the fuckin' face." Jack considered Jason's words as he took a few final notes. "What about Robert DuVette?" Jack asked, genuinely curious.

The man's body had been found twisted and mangled and not much more than a skeleton. Jason had really done a hack-job on this guy. "Bobby. I remember him well," Jason said, looking upward thoughtfully. "He beat his wife and children, did you know that? I heard it everyday. The children would scream alot, and they'd cry themselves to sleep everynight. You could hear it. A heart breaking sound." A sullen look went over Jason's face for a moment, then was gone and was replaced by the stone gaze that he had previously. "It was the last straw when I saw that he had actually cut his wife open with a beer bottle, and a few days later, his poor seven year old daughter was walking home from school and I noticed that she had a cigarette burn on her arm. I waited until the wife and children went home to her mother's, and I snuck into the house while he was there alone." At this point Jason began to laugh hysterically. "Oh, god," he said, wiping tears out of his eyes, "sorry. It's just," he broke out into another bout of laughter before going on to say, "He obviously wasn't expecting me, because when I got into the house and came up behind him, he was jerking off. You can bet, he wasn't exactly expecting to see me." Jason snickered a little bit more at this, seemingly fond, memory. "So, you see, he wasn't exactly the best person in the world, and, as far as I'm concerned, he deserved to lose every pound of flesh that I removed from his body. And he was alive and awake through most of it. He was a bleeder," he finished, almost sounding giddy.

Jack's interview with Jason Mandoll had gone well, and he was satisfied with the answers he got for most of his questions. That someone could take a life like that had fascinated and frightened Jack before, but now it just seemed so much more...primal, and natural. Those people did deserve what they got, and, goddamnit, Jason was a saint. "Fuck you, Serena," Jack mumbled, his hands tensing with anger on his steering wheel. His knuckles were white. He was going to do it. He didn't know how, but he would do it. He was going to kill his cheating cunt wife.

He pulled into the driveway, the same as he did everyday and got of the car. He wasn't really all that surprised to see another man walking from the house. "Hello Mr. Lander," the man said, smirking as he walked by. Jack didn't respond, but continued into the house as the sun set behind it.

There was no movement in the quiet neighborhood after Jack entered the house. The sky was pink and orange from the sunset, trees swayed slightly in the balmy breeze. A bird flew by in the suburban paradise. Then, there was a gunshot. Jack finally did it. Hell if he would take the humiliation anymore....