JG Literary Works

    I shift in my chair, arms crossed firmly over my chest.    Across the room, bathed in ghoulish light, sits a crooked man . His crooked hands are handcuffed tightly to the leg of the table between us. He sits crooked in his chair. He leers at me with his crooked grin.    I let no hint of an emotion slip from my body posture or expression. Doing so would go against what I've been taught about interrogating. Especially with interrogating someone like this.    However, I can’t ignore the shift in the air when he walked in. The ungodly chill that shivered through me, making me want to tremble and shrivel up in fear.     Clearing my throat, I drop my gaze to the yellow folder sitting on the table, but only for a moment; my gut tell s me that removing my eyes from this man is a very bad idea. I grab at the folder, which alo ng the top reads in bold letters:    VIRGO TOURMALINE: MASS MURDERER   Flipping open the first page, I...