Status: This story is complete.
The Confession.
One.
We knew it was him, we just needed the confession.
July 18, 2007 14:02.
"Your Honor, after much discussion amongst the jurors and weighing up the evidence and facts, we've come to a conclusion that the defendant is guilty," a young man, mid-thirties stated from the jury box while the guilty man just sat and listened intently, as though he was watching a theater play come to an end before his very eyes.
"Trent Holsworthy, I sentence you to a minimum of fifteen years in jail for third degree manslaughter. Your bail money will be discussed with your family and lawyer at a later date. May God have mercy on you, court is adjourned," the judge spoke at a pace and volume that all could hear and understand while the victim's family let tears of joy run down their cheeks.
Trent wasn't shaken nor surprised by the judge's verdict and faced the older guard as they did a quick check of the chains and cuffs before being escorted from the building. He felt nothing, no emotions nor the feel of the concrete steps through his shoes as he was taken to the van and driven back to the state prison. As they ran through the standard security checks, he let the images of the horrendous murder flash through his mind.
The weapons, the abuse, the blood, the flesh and the fear in his victim's eyes. That was the only reason he did it; to see the fear run through their eyes before it turned into cold stillness, pools of nothing other than death. That was the only way they had caught him; he had let himself become overwhelmed during his interview, letting more and more shocking stories slip from his lips whilst his eyes glistened with the thought of doing it again.
He was a cautious killer, he knew what to do and what not to do. He had watched the crime documentaries since a child, he knew that they would test any forensic evidence and the victim would be checked right down to the smallest hair follicle. Trent knew what to do, had he not been the murderer he would have been the detective.
He laughed at the show Dexter; Dexter was an imbecile when compared to him. He didn't think himself good. No, he knew he was amazing and he knew the detectives did too. Hell, the majority of the state's detectives didn't want to be within a 3 kilometer radius of Trent, even the highest security guard within the country was wary of him. Trent thought himself invincible, but when it came to speaking of the murders he couldn't hold himself back.
He didn't let one word slip out about the murders for the first fifteen minutes, but when he saw the pictures, his latest victims lying on the steel benches he couldn't help it. Five minutes later, he was retelling every brutal detail, right down to the precautions he took to not be caught and how he lured his victims.
The detectives just sat and listened, making sure to keep the tape recorder on and double checking the cameras placed in the right hand corner. At one point, they had to tell him to stop while they placed a new tape into both the camera and recorder. He waited patiently while they switched them and then started up again once each detective was seated.
He knew he was caught as soon as he finished and placed both wrists on the table while the detectives stopped the recordings of the audio and visuals and a guard came in, placing both of his hands behind his back and putting them into cuffs. He let his head hang for a moment before speaking.
"Tell the victim's families that it was an impulse, and that I deeply regret causing them to lose their loved ones," he told the oldest detective while leaving the room and continued with, "but don't tell them I'd do it again just to see the color drain from their eyes," he thought to himself before the guard escorted him to a solitary cell where he would spend the next fifteen years and all he could think about was what he would do once that fifteen years was over.
July 18, 2007 14:02.
"Your Honor, after much discussion amongst the jurors and weighing up the evidence and facts, we've come to a conclusion that the defendant is guilty," a young man, mid-thirties stated from the jury box while the guilty man just sat and listened intently, as though he was watching a theater play come to an end before his very eyes.
"Trent Holsworthy, I sentence you to a minimum of fifteen years in jail for third degree manslaughter. Your bail money will be discussed with your family and lawyer at a later date. May God have mercy on you, court is adjourned," the judge spoke at a pace and volume that all could hear and understand while the victim's family let tears of joy run down their cheeks.
Trent wasn't shaken nor surprised by the judge's verdict and faced the older guard as they did a quick check of the chains and cuffs before being escorted from the building. He felt nothing, no emotions nor the feel of the concrete steps through his shoes as he was taken to the van and driven back to the state prison. As they ran through the standard security checks, he let the images of the horrendous murder flash through his mind.
The weapons, the abuse, the blood, the flesh and the fear in his victim's eyes. That was the only reason he did it; to see the fear run through their eyes before it turned into cold stillness, pools of nothing other than death. That was the only way they had caught him; he had let himself become overwhelmed during his interview, letting more and more shocking stories slip from his lips whilst his eyes glistened with the thought of doing it again.
He was a cautious killer, he knew what to do and what not to do. He had watched the crime documentaries since a child, he knew that they would test any forensic evidence and the victim would be checked right down to the smallest hair follicle. Trent knew what to do, had he not been the murderer he would have been the detective.
He laughed at the show Dexter; Dexter was an imbecile when compared to him. He didn't think himself good. No, he knew he was amazing and he knew the detectives did too. Hell, the majority of the state's detectives didn't want to be within a 3 kilometer radius of Trent, even the highest security guard within the country was wary of him. Trent thought himself invincible, but when it came to speaking of the murders he couldn't hold himself back.
He didn't let one word slip out about the murders for the first fifteen minutes, but when he saw the pictures, his latest victims lying on the steel benches he couldn't help it. Five minutes later, he was retelling every brutal detail, right down to the precautions he took to not be caught and how he lured his victims.
The detectives just sat and listened, making sure to keep the tape recorder on and double checking the cameras placed in the right hand corner. At one point, they had to tell him to stop while they placed a new tape into both the camera and recorder. He waited patiently while they switched them and then started up again once each detective was seated.
He knew he was caught as soon as he finished and placed both wrists on the table while the detectives stopped the recordings of the audio and visuals and a guard came in, placing both of his hands behind his back and putting them into cuffs. He let his head hang for a moment before speaking.
"Tell the victim's families that it was an impulse, and that I deeply regret causing them to lose their loved ones," he told the oldest detective while leaving the room and continued with, "but don't tell them I'd do it again just to see the color drain from their eyes," he thought to himself before the guard escorted him to a solitary cell where he would spend the next fifteen years and all he could think about was what he would do once that fifteen years was over.
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Definitely a short one, only 712 words. Comment please.