Los Angeles, CA
My partner asked him three more times, and was starting up again, but the professor interrupted him.
"Okay! Okay," he said, starting to sound defeated, and sighed, tears welling up in his eyes. "Fine, I admit it. I'm sorry, okay? I let it get too far. I've tried to shove my... urges... down, but every time... it just seems like... I can't get over it. I've hurt so many people. So many, including my own family. My family, oh, god, my family!" he started crying, "Please, oh, please, have mercy! I'll do whatever you want! I have money! I can pay you whatever you want and we can put this all behind us, okay? We can act like this never even happened!"
"Is that a guilty plea?" my partner asked.
"Yes," the professor said, in between sobs. My partner looked at me and nodded.
"Alrighty then," I said, mostly to myself, screwing the silencer onto my gun. I pointed it to the professor's head, which was hanging down, and pulled the trigger, just as a shout of 'no' was coming out.
Cleaning up wasn't hard. The limp body of the professor rolled up easily into one of the plastic sheets. The chair had a single spot of blood on it, the cleaning staff wouldn't notice when they came to toss the room. Just in case, I wiped it off with my thumb. As for disposal, we had help with that.
"You want to make the call, or should I?" My partner asked.
"You can, I'll finish," I said, rolling the rest of the sheet up around the body. I put the rope and the handcuffs inside our luggage as my partner was dialing the number. I hate dealing with those creatures, they always give me the chills.