H3XAGON KILL3R

Hours later the two stood in an interrogation room. Don stared out the window, concentrating harshly on whatever was playing in his mind. Charlie stared at him, but left him alone. He had learned over the years it was a bad idea to try and talk Don out of his bad moods. Bored he began flipping through the case file again. As he flipped to the fourth page the doors creaked open. Looking up he came face to face with a criminal's smiling face.

It took all his self-control not to jump. The criminal's smile flickered as if dissapointed, but a slight shrug sent him into the chair. Immediatly Don jumped into action.

" Your not the Hexagonal Killer," he said dangerously eyeing the man in front of him.

The man tilted his head slightly. His smile grew, if possible, wider.

" Agent Eppes?" he questioned, " What sort of fantasy have you been reading? Certainly my fans aren't getting to you?"

Don shook his head in disgust. Turning he faced out the window again, oblivious to the criminal's penetrating stare. Charlie watched silently in the corner. Without thinking about it he observed the man sitting in front of him. The criminal wore the customary orange jumpsuit. He had a full head of jet black hair, thick, that was greying at the temples. He could be easily taken for a middle-aged lawyer, or possibly banker. In fact, to Charlie he didn't look like he belonged in a prison. Nor did he look like a killer.

As if knowing he was being observed the man looked over at Charlie. When their eyes met, it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of Charlie's lungs. Suddenly he saw very clearly that this man could have easily murdered hundred if he had wanted to. The man may have seemed ordinary by sight, but to an observer's eye the malice and cruelty in his eyes would have sent shivers through your spine. He calmly sat and stared at Charlie, his eyes seeming to be filled with malicious power. Only then did Charlie realize the man was speaking to him.

" Dr. Eppes," he was saying smoothly, " It is certainly a suprise to meet you."

Caught off guard Charlie stuttered, " How...How d-do you know me?"

The man smiled, " Why your brother has told me so much about you."

Charlie cast a questioning look at Don. The older man immediatly jumped back into the conversation.

" Tell me, Sam," he started darkly, " Who is the real killer?"

Seeing his attention was being drawn away the man replied, " I don't know what you mean, Agent Eppes. As far as I know I'm the only one here. Unless of course, you were planning something. Or perhaps your brother."

At this the man looked back at Charlie. Another chill ran through the young man's spine and he grasped the files a little tighter.

Don slammed the desk, " Listen, I'm the one your answering. He's just here to observe."

The man sighed looking back at Don.

" Agent Eppes," he said impatiently, " Are you telling me, our young genius here is going to take after his brother? Come now, doesn't he already have a career?"

Don eyed the man angrily, " People are dying out there, Sam," he said, " And I think you know who is doing it."

" And that is?"

" The same person you learned to commit your murder's from."

At this the man began to laugh.

" Agent," he gasped, " You can't be serious. You of all people should know. Murder isn't taught. It's a gift. You know that. I'm sure you've felt it before."

" Felt what?"

" Why," the man paused and looked at Charlie, " I think this conversation is a little to delicate for naive ears. Wouldn't you say?"

Don looked up at his brother. The younger man had paled slightly and was holding the file in a vice grip.

Surrendering Don replied, " Fine. But you are the copycat aren't you?"

The madman smiled, " Of course. You knew it all along, the entire department did. Your psychologist told you I wouldn't have been able to figure something like this out. That it was improbable. They said I was an enigma. Well, I had hoped to think they were right. But of course, a lie like that can't go on. He wouldn't let it."

" Who is he?" Don whispered inches from the man's face.

Pulling back the man replied, " Your figured out I was a copycat. You figure out the rest."

A dangerous glint started to grow in Don's eyes. Suddenly a small voice called out, " Don."

Don looked back at his younger brother. The fear and confusion was evident and he realized he had almost gone to far. Kicking himself internally he mused over how easy it was for this, monster, to get under his skin. His and every other agent who hadto dealwith him.

" Sorry, Charlie," he said, " Come on, let's get back. He's not going to tell us anymore."

Cautiously Charlie pulled himself from the corner. Don watched him for a few seconds and then walked towards the door, knowing Charlie would follow. As Charlie passed the criminal though, an ice cold hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

" He doesn't like competition, you know," an almost sing-song voice whispered.

With that he was released and Charlie practically ran to his brother's side. As they walked out of the building Don's cell rang.

" Eppes," he answered.

After a brief pause he looked at Charlie.

" We need to go," he said jumping into the car.

" What's going on?" Charlie asked worried.

" There's been another murder," Don replied backing out, " Except this time there was a witness."

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