[ WP ] `` Why do you kill ? '' `` Because I can . Because I 'm good at it . Because I like it . ''

The aroma of cigarette smoke filled the room as the inspector stared at the monster of a man before them. In contrast to the clean cut inspector in front of him, this man was an absolute mess, with cuts and bruises around his face, wearing a torn military jacket and a ragged pair of jeans. He slouched in the chair, restrained by a pair of cuffs, all the while keeping his head down. 
 
 `` So, we got you pinned on about... oh let's see here...'', the inspector spoke plainly, ``... that's right, about twenty-seven murders, and that's just the one's we recovered so far.'' He spoke with a hint of disdain in his voice, while glancing at the seemingly mundane file on the table. 
 
 `` It's not everyday I meet people like you. ``, the inspector remarked. `` I mean, most people are boring, dull. You know? You though? Your something else, lem me tell you.'' He spoke as he looked at the disheveled man before him in amazement. 
 
 `` I mean, most people would n't exactly, you know, gun down a bar full of gangsters, out of the blue like you did. The way you went about it was clean, almost like a butcher with his meat, you know?'' He remarked as he sucked on his cigarette. 
 
 `` Now...'' as the inspector put out the burning cigarette in the tray before him, ``... who are you exactly? We tried getting prints from you, but you apparently have no record. We also tried looking for kin, but no one came up either. From what I saw though, and as I mentioned earlier, the way you went about things was clean, expertly. So, from what I have, I'm guessing you were in the military at some point, yes?'' The man in the military jacket nodded. 
 
 `` Well, you got a name or what? If I recall, you have n't said a single word since we detained you.'' The inspector asked, growing more and more curious by the passing second. 
 
 The man was silent for a moment, then he answered, in a deep voice, `` Name's Kaldwell, Jasper Kaldwell.'' He turned his head, cracking his neck, and adjusting his posture. 
 
 `` Well, you actually say something for once,'' the inspector remarked, `` The name's Dubois, Tyrone Dubois. Glad we finally got acquainted with each other. You know, I know this is an out of the blue thing, but just tell me, why'd ya kill all those people? I know they was n't exactly a gleaming hope to society, but why them? Had a vengeance or some shit?'' 
 
 Jasper looked down at the file, and then looked up toward Dubois. His dark blue eyes scanned the inspector, almost like a predator looking at their next meal. `` Tell me, you ever been at war, Inspector Dubois? Lem me tell ya, once I was at war in Vietnam a while back, lem me tell ya, it changed something in me, ya know?'Fore I got in that war, man, I was what I thought to be the most meaningless existence in the world. Then once I got my first piece of action, well...'' Jasper stared into the wall, having memories of what was. ``... I finally knew what I was, you know?'' 
 
 Dubois stood up from his chair, dusting off his jacket, while looking at the man before him, growing slightly nervous by his words, his hands on his hips. `` You know why I killed those men back at that bar, Dubois? I spilled blood'cause I could. I killed those men cause I was damn good at it.'' He spoke, with a twinkle in his eye. `` I killed'cause I liked it. Just like I did back in the war.'' 
 
 With that, he looked at Dubois, and smiled.
