Victor's MonologueMature

I look to Victor, still hoping that he will help me gain control of my clients once more, but all he does is sit quietly along with everyone else, his right leg crossed over his left so sophisticated, the index finger of his left hand pressed to his temples. This session is never going to continue, and none of these characters or authors are going to be able to heal unless they can stay seated and communicate with one another in a calmly manner, without security getting involved to boot. Fortunately, with the quiet, the pounding migraine that had filled my head begins to fade away, slowly but surely. Thank god for that. Sighing softly, I prop my elbow up on my crossed legs and press my forehead against my hand, shutting my eyes and trying to think of a solution to problem at hand.

"What are you doing?" Amy asks quietly, causing me to lift my head from my hand and look up, nearly sighing in relief when I see Victor on his feet, but instead of answering his author's question, he steps into the center of the room, folding his hands over his belly, fingering the silver ring on the ring finger of his right hand.

"Permission to speak, Dr. Hart," he says, glancing over at me and looking me straight in the eyes.

I nod my head in agreement. "You have my permission, Victor. Do you have something to say?" Something that I'm hoping will help move this session forward once again.

"As a matter of fact, I do," he says. "It's occured to me that I haven't told my story, the whole story, of who I am, where I came from," his steely green eyes wander towards Amy, "and the little bitch who made me."

Amy's eyes narrow irritably at him. "Victor, don't. Just come back and sit down, and let's just stay quiet like--"

"I'm tired of staying quiet!" He shouts, causing the guards at the door to tense up, expecting another fight. He raises a hand, shooting a glare at them. "I'm not finished."

The guards look to me expectantly, to which I shake my head then look over at Amy. "Amy, please, let Victor continue." Amy sighs deeply, bringing her legs up to her chest, and folding her arms on top of them, turning her head to look away at something else as she rocks back and forth anxiously. Seeing her reaction, I start to wonder what it is that she's so afraid of, besides Victor himself. Was this a good idea? Letting him have the floor and share personal details about his life, a life that, for all I knew, was not for the faint of heart.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Victor Cole Bane. Amy gave me that name because she was such a big fan of Julian McMahon. She gave me both his face and body, and because she loved his performance as Victor Von Doom so much, that's where I got my name. The "Cole" came from her love of him in Charmed. While I admit it's not a bad face, and I look pretty damn good for my age, she's spent years using this face against me in her stories."

Amy rolls her eyes. "Bullshit," she mutters.

"No, sweetheart, you're bullshit." He turns his head, looking around the room at the rest of the group. "You see, it wasn't enough for her to use me to live out her own sexual fantasies, she put me into her stories so she could watch me screw, rape, torture, abuse, and murder so many beautiful women. And for what? To put me on the FBI's Most Wanted list? To keep the ugly girls alive?"

I blink, my brows furrowing inquistively as I look from him to Amy, wondering how she could create such a hostile and sadistic man such as this.

"That's not why!" Amy exclaims. "I needed--"

"Shut up!" Victor shouts, his steely green eyes filling with a seething hatred so dark, they nearly turn black. "You don't get to speak unless you're spoken to, do you understand me?" He sneers.

I scowl as I notice the tears suddenly welling up in Amy's eyes. Burying her head in her arms, I can see her tremble, as if she's crying. I look back at Victor, crossing my arms over my chest, shaking my head in disbelief as I notice how unphased he is by Amy's reaction, and just continues talking.

"She made me a serial killer, rapist, stalker, kidnapper, you name it, I've done it." He glances over at me. "I gotta admit, she did do a damn good job of giving me the skills to elude the cops on plenty of ocassions, and because I'm the only villain she has, she keeps me out of jail so she can use me again and again. But she also killed my mother." He points an accusing finger at Amy, looking around the room. "This fucking bitch killed the one person in my life, who thought I was worth anything, and let my father beat the shit out of me. Honest to god, there's only one good thing she ever gave me..." Reaching under his suit jacket, my eyes and everyone elses eyes widen in horror, all of us gasping as he pulls out a deadly sharp looking hunting knife. Hadn't he been searched? "Is this...Mr. Bowie."

The End

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