Genocide - The Best Kind

"You may ask me anything now." The blonde smiles warmly, tilting her head to the right as she lowers a mug of steaming black goo to the coffee table by our legs.

"Oh, okay." My mind goes blank for a second.

"Erm, what's your name?" I mentally eye roll at the question as it won't help me at all unless she's a celebrity I never bothered to care about...

"My name? Oh that's a pitiful start for a saint such as yourself," My cheeks start to redden, and I quickly pretend to sip the foul liquid she brought me to cover it. "My name is Camilla Wilson; and to answer your next stupid question, my occupation is, if you must know, the Prime Minister's new right hand girl." She smiles proudly and does a small jig on the spot. It takes me a few seconds to stop staring bewilderedly at her to figure out what she meant by 'new'.

"So, how do you know who I am?" I question, elegantly lowering the cup onto the amazingly redundant table below.

"I don't really think it's a question of who, but a question of what," She leans back and crosses one leg over the other. "I've been watching you for two weeks now, from a distance of course, after I saw that tree surgeon's jeep parked out front of your...'studio' for a good 3 days. To be honest, the fact you didn't notice me watching you sort of took me back a bit. I could have been a cop, in which case you'd be locked up right now, unable to fulfill your master plan. And I wasn't sure you were what I thought you were. But after seeing you in action up close, I saw past the hedonistic elements of your work, and saw you for what you really are. A savior. A savior for this entire planet." She smiles at me and flutters her eyelashes.

It takes every fibre of my being not to let my mouth drop and for my eyes bulge out of my skull as she finishes talking. Just the last few sentences...

She sounds too understanding. Too understanding for a person who's just observed me from a distance. I don't know who she is. She could be making every last bit of that up. She could, like she said, be a cop. Be an enemy. She can sure as hell act like one at times. But there's just something so sincere about her. I mean, she's not exactly a saint in society's eyes either.

First of all, she stalks a person, a killer, for two weeks, fully aware that they've murdered on several occasions during this time, and doesn't report it. She then lures a victim into the killer's lair, and not only leaves it there to die, helps in pinning them down so it's an easier kill. So really, she can't really be a cop. No cop would willingly sacrifice another human being in order to catch a killer. Not unless they were twisted. Then again, you have to be twisted to follow me as well.

I allow myself a small smirk as I remind myself how bright I am. That train of thought in my head would usually take another person several minutes to figure out, but for me, it only takes a few seconds. Although then again, the only conclusion that came out of it was: She's twisted. Great. Just great.

The blonde - I mean, Camilla notices the slight change in facial expression and tilts her head to the side questioningly.

"So this house..."

"Provided by the government. Gave it to me as soon as I joined the cabinet. I'd much rather lie out under the stars, watching as the planet gradually turns on its axis, pushing the tiny lights out of view one by one." Her eyes drift off to the wall behind me, and are filled with a dreamy look. I click my fingers impatiently in front of her eyes. No way is she stopping now.

She sighs. "But I couldn't turn down the house. It came with the role I have to play. If I didn't take the house, they'd suspect something and everything I worked for would be for nothing."

I lean closer as she grabs my attention.

"And what would that be?" I ask.

"To be honest, I never knew before I saw you. I always knew I had to do something great, something monumental...world changing, and I figured the best place to start off doing that would be in office. I never wanted to work for the sweaty fat cat in a suit who poses as the friendly face for the government. No. But I now realise how amazing this position is." She starts to lean in too. "I can controlpeople."

My mouth is slightly ajar now and I nod. I don't care if I look a prat, I just want to know where she's going with this.

"You know that little thing called mob mentality? Well, do you know how powerful it can be when the group of people in that mob's lives are potentially in danger?"

I shuffle nearer the edge of my seat, as if being closer is the only way I'll catch the words falling softly from her lips. I shake my head, still transfixed.

"I can control people. I can manipulate people. I can make people kill."