" In the moments before the brutal murder of John Novak ended what she later thought of as her time of innocence, Assistant County Prosecutor Stella Marz gazed down at the waterfront of her native city, Steelton."

- Dark Lady by Richard North Patterson

After examining the murder it had become apparent that I just couldn't let such genius work go unnoticed, and turning myself in was compulsory. As I confessed my treason, the officers jumped on me as barbaric animals telling me what a lunatic I was. Now why would they say such a thing? Did they not see how clever and precise my coverings were? What lunatic could have done such a deed so accurately? What fools! They don't even know the difference between a lunatic and a woman who was simply trying to do what's best for everyone. Immediately after my exposure, I was arrested, as predicted by my genius self, and taken down to the station. I tell you, I thought the officers were barbaric, but I hadn't seen nothing till the psychiatrist came to talk to me. Another clown. I had to prove this hick that I wasn't crazy. I blamed the disease. The psychiatrist attempted to stay calm and pretend he wasn't afraid of me. Another fool I tell you! I could smell his nervous, sweaty palms the minute I walked in the room! Each and every one of the was terrified of me. I possessed full control, not them. The psychiatrist questioned, and I answered. Pitiful questions were asked I must say. I gazed around the room, no two-way mirror, and no visible cameras. I wondered, shouldn't they have surveillance for such a "raving lunatic"? Imbeciles. I then decided to give them a taste of a real lunatic, not that I was one or anything, simply pretending to be one under such crucial circumstances. I couldn't take the reek of his sweaty palms and now feet any longer. Without another wisp of air I rose from my chair in a calm matter, then thrust myself upon the psychiatrist and with every single bit of power within me I began to choke him. Squeezing my hands tighter and tighter, my nails sinking into his flesh, and just like that another imbecile was dead within seconds. It was quite morbid I do admit, but I couldn't help myself. I laughed. Laughed harder and louder than I ever have. I then pulled out my handkerchief, wiped my hands free of blood, and sat back down smiling. What an adrenaline rush that was. I could smell his insides rotting already. For a split second I began to feel the guilt crawling upon me, but then I had realized how ridiculous that was. Guilt? Guilty for saving everyone from this moron? Not one bit. It's not like it was my fault anyway. No one in their right mind could possibly think that my viral condition of wanting to help people was my fault. It was all the disease again...

To be continued.