Where Erik has been convicted for a crime he didn't commit and Charles is the smart-mouthed detective assigned his case.
~1639 words~
Erik was escorted into the investigating room in handcuffs. Metal handcuffs.
He would have already walked out by now if he wasn’t the slightest bit curious as to why he’d been brought here in the first place. He unravelled himself in an uncomfortable plastic chair opposite the viewing window and freed his tie from around his neck, bundling it around his knuckles until they turned white. He kept his expression blank.
A moment later, the door screeched against its hinges as a man in a fairy tale blue vest and white long-sleeved shirt, a bulky folder tucked under his arm, entered the room. The searing lights of the investigation room dyed his hair a honey brown and made his remarkably blue eyes glow like they were charged with electricity. As he extended a hand across the table, introducing himself as, “Detective Investigator Charles Xavier. But I prefer just Charles if it suits you,” the corners of his perfectly curved lips rose for him.
When Erik didn’t take it, the detective twizzled his chair around and dropped down into it as he spread out the contents of the folder across the table. He plucked a pair of glasses from his pocket and propped them on the end of his nose to read over the files.
“Well let’s see. Full name: Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, born, or at least it says here, born January 30th, 1930 in Dusseldorf, Germany.” He tilted his head upright to raise his eyebrows at Erik, who didn’t change his expression.
“Says here you’ve been living here in London however for almost ten years. Seems you’ve got into your fair share of scrapes along the way too. I have to say…” He paused to adjust his reading glasses. “I’m pretty impressed you’ve managed to stay out of the coop for so long given your criminal record.”
Erik continued to glare- he didn’t need his admiration. He’d seen enough smart-mouthed cops to last him a lifetime. A voice at the back of his mind told him to hold his tongue, but he ignored it.
“Why am I here?”
“You’re here for interrogation,” Charles said without missing a beat, still not looking at him.
“And what offence am I being convicted for?” His knuckles had turned a bone white.
Charles dropped the files and spread his elbows across the table. “How about I start asking the questions: first off, where were you at around 7:30pm last night?”
“Home,” Erik answered instinctively. “I was watching Strictly,” he added just to be safe, knowing it started at 7:20.
“Nowhere else?”
“I stay in most Saturdays,” Erik shrugged, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Well, that’s interesting. How about I rephrase that question?” Charles summoned a small remote from his pocket and flicked it at the projector, which whirred to life. Erik squinted.
The video took place in the dark and appeared to simply be a lone shot of a shop window. Charles pressed a button and the video sped forwards, then he brought it back to regular speed as the window to the shop was blown to bits. An indistinguishable man was hurled outside onto the tarmac and he tried to crawl away as a tall figure stepped over the shattered glass. The figures’ eyes flickered up for a moment, where Charles paused the video.
“Shall we try again?” Charles asked.
“That video must have been doctored. Did you see how fast that man was flown through the air? It would be impossible.”
“I wouldn’t say impossible, just slightly less ordinary.” As he said this, his eyes seemed to glint under the harsh light. It made Erik feel instantly defensive.
“I don’t know what you’re accusing me of—”
“Humour me. What intention would you have of throwing a man through a window?”
What intention indeed. Erik tried to convey this with a bewildered expression.
“Let me help you,” Charles offered, “The man you see on this video is currently in a hospital bed just 10 minutes from here, badly injured, but nothing life-threatening. The most he’ll have are a few scars. The shop he runs specialises in old fashioned antiques- do you know it?”
“I might have passed it on the street before…”
“Was he a bad man, Mr Lehnsherr?” Charles interrupted. His eyes were almost too bright to look at. And now they were jabbing into him like they expected something from him.
“I wouldn’t know. Listen, I told you I didn’t know the fellow.”
“So, you didn’t purchase a…” He pulled out a pair of spectacles and placed them on the end of his nose as he lifted the page to his face. “Vintage brass candlestick, several hours before the attack?”
Erik’s heart sank. As long as he didn’t know… “And coincidently, the scars I mentioned earlier found on Mr Gibson’s back seemed to match the prongs of a certain candlestick discovered at the scene. Would you say that’s unusual?” He smiled, but it was different to his greeting smile from earlier, now it seemed thinner. “Your response, Mr Lehnsherr?”
Erik’s eyes flitted feverishly between the observation window and Charles’ smug face. A small droplet of sweat began to bead at the tip of his forehead. “I could cut your throat right now. I wouldn’t even need the handcuffs,” he bit.
Charles rotated his chair and fell back in it, crossing his legs up on the table. “I have no doubt you could. Sure, if it were anyone else sat in a meeting with you right now, they’d be toast.”
Erik laughed harshly to disguise the fact that he couldn’t breathe properly. “And not you?”
Not me. The detective hadn’t even opened his mouth and Erik’s ears hadn’t registered the sound, but the words still snaked their way inside Erik’s mind. No. There was no way. Charles chuckled at Erik’s stunned expression. You didn’t think you were the only one, did you?
Erik’s heart jumped inside his chest, and he quickly rose from his seat, fists readying by his sides. His eyes were teeming with fear. His breaths came quick and hot. Charles didn’t batter an eyelid when the handcuffs clattered on the floor.
“How are you doing that?” he barked, backing into the far wall. “Putting words inside my head?” There was a hint of hysteria disguised in his voice.
With a flick of his wrist, Charles’ rose his peace fingers and drummed them on his right temple. “That’s only a teaser of what I can do, but I’m more interested in you. Come on, sit down. I don’t bite.”
After a moment of consideration, Erik bared his teeth as he slowly slipped back into his chair, eyeing him down with a steeled glower. He kept his hands where they were. “Where the hell did they drag you from?” Erik finally asked.
“No force was necessary: I actually came here of my own free will. I’ve always been fascinated with the mechanics of the law system.” He shrugged. “I get good results- no one needs to know--”
But before he could finish, Erik lurched out of his seat and suddenly the metal handcuffs were flying through the air, right for Charles’ neck. However, Erik’s power over the handcuffs bristled, and they stopped motionless inches from their intended target, with Erik frozen too. He tried to push and bared his teeth, but his body had decided not to obey.
“You’re pathetic,” Erik snapped, jaw clenched. His lips quivered from the effort. “And you’re a coward for taking their side. Are you afraid of what they’ll do to you when they find out? Do you know what they do to people like us? Do you know what Mr Gibson liked to do to his twelve-year-old daughter because of what she is? Well?” His body became free for a fraction of a second and he made a jump for Charles, only to find himself immediately being tugged back. Almost as though he was bound by invisible chains. “ANSWER ME!” Erik’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.
Charles wiped his glasses with his sleeve and then bit the end of them. He appeared to be in extreme consideration. Finally, he spoke aloud, “Do I think you’re capable of murder? Yes. Do I think you have the intention or murder? Also, yes. Well, the cards aren’t looking good for you, Mr Lehnsherr. Anything you’d like to add?”
“Fuck you,” Erik spat.
“Perfect. Well, I suppose I’m only left with one conclusion.” He stood up and hooked his thumbs around his pockets. “Someone’s done a clever bit of handiwork on you, my friend, but you’re innocent none-the-less.” Erik suddenly toppled over, and he could feel his limbs again. He slammed into the table and knocked his nose, which immediately started streaming. “What?” he spluttered.
I said you’re innocent, a voice said, and Erik shook the thought away as he clambered to his feet. “What the hell are you on about? Don’t you want to convict me?” He pointed dumbly at the projected image on the wall. “I tried to kill a man, I thought we’d establish that.”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Charles said, and his brilliant blue eyes were wide and bright. He summoned a pen from apparently thin air and waved it about to underscore his words. “You see, that’s what someone wants you to think. And they did a very good job of convincing you, I’ll give them that. Psychic interference: I’m almost envious, I wouldn’t have known if they hadn’t neglected one minor detail.” He tapped Erik’s forehead with the pen. “Anger. Your outburst of rage allowed me to distinguish what emotions were yours, and what emotions were planted there by someone else. Your apparent resentment for Mr Gibson, versus your indisputable resentment for me.” He stepped back and grinned, like this was a good thing.
OOOHH THE PLOT TWISTTT I LOVE THIS
