Will sat in the back of his cell with his eyes closed, listening to the screams of his fellow inmates. He didn't consider himself insane; he was just damn good at acting like one. He meditated in his murders. To be fair, they had pushed him over the edge--the FBI had when they made him look at how people murdered others--but he didn't mind it. He opened his eyes when he sensed someone watching him. "Who are you?" He asked calmly.










