Prompt: Prompt #1: Transference
Word Count: About 180.
Disclaimer: Dexter isn't mine. I want to live, thank you very much.
A/N: It could have been this way.
The cameras in the interrogation room were turned off. Being a cop had its privileges, sometimes.
"Why did you kill those people, son?"
The boy handcuffed to the chair shrugged. "I felt like." There wasn't any fear or defiance in his eyes - the cop had faced down many dangerous criminals, but nobody with eyes so unsettling.
"That's it? You just felt you had to kill them?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Couldn't you just... control yourself or something?"
The boy frowned. "No. I tried after mom found about the first one and made me promise, but I couldn't. It was something I just had to do, you know what I mean?"
The cop didn't. He rose from his chair tiredly and began walking toward the door.
"One more question," he said, stopping. "Did you have to kill those people, or could it have been anybody?"
The boy shrugged again. "Anybody, I think. Except for my cousin, I didn't know any of them. Why, you want me to kill somebody?" He seemed politely interested.
Harry shook his head. "No, thanks," he said as he left.
Perhaps there was something he could do for his son, after all.