[Zhongyingmei] That snake

"Let's talk, Black." Oliver sat on the chair in the interrogation room, clamping the pen in his hand to the closed notebook.

Rord Black, the murderer in this case, BAU has caught him based on the profile and found his tools, which is enough to convict him, but the problem is that there is still one victim missing, and he still has 80% To survive, Oliver must get his message from Black.

"I have nothing to talk to you, sissy." Black said disdainfully with phlegm coming from his throat.

Black's victims are white male graduates from prestigious schools in their 20s to 30s, with good looks and a good life. , for success.

He loved tying up his victims, admiring the frightened and cowardly expressions of these darlings, admiring their brokenness to fill their inferior and painful hearts.

In appearance alone, Oliver fits his victim type.But in terms of personality or the way he speaks, he is not so different, he is not as powerless as those victims now.

"Sissy?" Oliver lowered his head and chuckled, "That's good, but now you are caught in the police station by such a person, handcuffed to a stool, and have to talk to him. Even he didn't hide , what are you running away from?"

"Get away from a disgusting person like you." Black stared at Oliver fiercely. He had muscular muscles covered with unknown tattoos, which made him look even more vicious.

"Disgusting person, is that so?" Oliver stood up, "I thought you wished to be such a person. A happy family, a good life, a successful career, isn't that what you envy?"

"Why should I be jealous of such an empty life." Black insisted.

"Because youarea**ingcoward!" Oliver stopped laughing, but looked at Black expressionlessly, "A little coward crawled out of a rotten, stench-like hell-like womb, and now decades of social security , the teachings of others will only make you an even more failed coward."

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Black's forehead burst out with veins.

"I'm talking about you, bitch," Oliver spat out an obscene word without changing his face, "a piece of society's trash."

"Trash? You're the one!" Black's eyes were tearing apart, "You bastard."

"Oh, isn't it? You son of a bitch." Oliver showed no sign of weakness, "Go**yourself."

"You feel unfair about it, why should they get everything and you just hang out on the streets. Am I right? You'rea**ingJerk. Makes me sick."

"Shit, Asshole, Punk, That's all you. You're insane."

"Shut up. You don't have the right to say that!" Black opened his mouth wide to make his voice the loudest, and the muscles in his arms began to tense, but his handcuffs were locked on the stool, so no matter how hard he tried Can't break free.

"Then who is qualified, is it you? A clown who fucked up everything." Oliver stretched his facial muscles to reveal his sharp canine teeth. This expression was not very pretty, but it definitely overwhelmed others in terms of momentum.

What's more, Oliver directly lifted the table in front of the two of them.

It was an iron table, solid, and it slammed into the whitewashed wall. The white paint on the surface was knocked off, revealing the center of the wall. Oliver took a few steps forward and kicked the table. Black's stool.

Black was sitting with his legs wide open, and Oliver's kick would have nearly crippled his heel.

The stool slid until it hit the wall before stopping with a bang. Oliver still stepped on the edge of the stool and tilted the stool up. This posture made the prisoner terrified enough that even if he lost his balance, it was only the stool that would fall, but in this room , The bottom seems to be an abyss.

Oliver propped his hands on the back of the chair, looking down at Black, the light in the interrogation room was only scattered in the center of the room, and now Black was completely shrouded in Oliver's shadow, like a demon-like shadow, and this demon was trying to guide He goes to hell.

The demon's dark green eyes are the endless abyss full of evil, violent, greedy, and endless.

"Go to the Hell, coward." Oliver bit down on the pronunciation of every word.

"I'm not a coward, you are, they're raised by their cousins. They cry and beg in my hell of fire and mountain ash, they beg me for mercy, all the sons of heaven It's a lie, it's just some scumbags who will do anything to survive."

"Forgoddamnit. At least they are better than you, you only exert power on the weak."

Flame, mountain ash, hell, Hotch outside the interrogation room combined these words, trying to associate, "Let the swat team find out if there is an intersection leading to the basement from his fireplace."

"What's wrong?" The team members fell into a bewildered silence.

Morgan coughed, breaking the silence, "I'll go and notify."

It was the first time they saw Oliver like this, full of foul language, and it was hard to get used to it all at once.

And when Hotch first saw a notebook on Oliver's bookcase, at least 2/3 of which contained such uncivilized words, he also had a feeling that he wanted to send Oliver to see a psychiatrist to see if he was insane. Divided thoughts.

Compared with most American young people, the frequency of Oliver using these words can be said to be touching.But today it seems to have exploded all of a sudden.

"Fine, kid, let's continue." Oliver flattened Black's chair, and the burly man glared at him, panting.

Until Oliver came out of the interrogation room and calmed down the angry expression on his face the moment he closed the door.Looking at the team members with different expressions, he raised his wrist and glanced at his watch in doubt, "I've been away for 10 minutes, what's wrong with you? Are you alive?"

If I had to say it, the description wasn't too bad.

No one answered, Oliver could only shrug his shoulders, "Has the victim been found?"

"It has been rescued, and it is not life-threatening." Hotch replied.

"That's good. Now that the case is over, what would you like to eat tonight?" Oliver asked with a smile