The Icebox - Prologue. Prologue

The Interviewer

I watch the young man across the table. He stares down at it, his fingers twitching on top and his handcuffs drag against it as he traces along the scratches.

Dried blood stains his hands for some reason still.

Why couldn’t they have cleaned him up first? With a situation as big as this, now would be the time to pick up the slack and not be lazy.

Oh but I know why.

“Zafiro,” I say, trying to get his attention again.

His fingers freeze and he tilts his head. His hair has grown so long that his bangs shield his blue eyes.

“Come on. Tell me what happened,” I say. As tempting as it is to be more forceful, I know that would most likely make things worse for the kid.

He does not answer.

Instead, he lifts his head to peer at me through his hair. His eyes shine almost like a cats at night. The light from the lamp shining off of them.

His body shakes slightly, a sign that the voices are speaking to him again.

“All you have to do is tell me why you did it,” I say calmly. “I’m only trying to help you here. You know that.”

Zafiro bites his lip and shakes his head.

I am not sure if it was in response to me or the voices.

He turns his head to the side, whispering to himself as if someone were speaking behind his shoulder.

I suppose that answers that.

Glancing at the one way window, I try to keep myself from sighing out loud.

While I can’t see them, I can feel their stares, wanting this to be over to move on to their own activities once again.

Turning to Zafiro again, I see he has leaned down to rest his forehead on the edge of the table. He is muttering to himself, talking to the voices still.

I am not sure how things got this bad. When I first met him, the voices weren’t so strong to draw his attention.

Now…now he can barely register my voice it seems.

Were we really too late to remove that blasted device from his head?

“He had to go,” Zafiro whispers. He is looking at me now.

“H-He…he wanted to hurt…me?” Zafiro frowns, appearing confused and stares at the table again. “Couldn’t allow that. Not again.”

Again I have to hold myself from trying to push this along too fast. “Hurt you how? Zaf, what did he say for you to…kill him? Was it self-defense? We know that you were suicidal and have been assigned as a mentally ill inmate. Would either of those push you to lash out?”

Zafiro chuckles slightly, though his face is still glazed over and blank.

“They say I was protecting my family. Majority votes yes.”

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

My body is tired and these last few days have definitely worn everyone out.

Scratching at my head, I stand then walk over and behind Zafiro. I place my hand on his shoulder and give a small squeeze.

“That’s all we need to hear,” I say before exiting the room.

When I see the other officers, they are already chatting in good spirits. They are happy they won’t have too much paperwork to deal with since this can be dealt with as a case of self-defense.

I want to hug the hell out of that kid for actually saying the right words. My heart was pounding thinking this would get even more out of hand.

As I leave to go to my office, I can’t help but wonder what the hell happened.

Zafiro will absolutely never give more information on how things went down. At least not now. Perhaps days, weeks, or even months from now.

This one will definitely be on my mind for quite a while.

Just what happened on this night and why did Zafiro murder a fellow inmate?