The Villen Mind



It was a fresh pre-winter morning when Criminal investigator Aaron Graves went into the cross examination room. Across the table sat Victor Robust, a man whose name had become inseparable from dread. His sharp highlights were quiet, his dim eyes unnervingly consistent. Aaron had seen beasts previously, however something about Victor agitated him all the more profoundly. It wasn't his violations; it was the brain behind them.

Victor Solidness wasn't simply a crook — he was a craftsman of confusion. Throughout the course of recent years, he had coordinated a progression of apparently irrelevant calamities: a bank heist in Chicago, a power framework disappointment in Seattle, a toxin alarm in Atlanta. The media referred to him as "The Weaver," an expert controller whose snare of obliteration generally prompted a certain something: all out cultural breakdown in little, exact pockets.

Aaron had gone through months following him, sorting out the sections of a mind boggling puzzle. Furthermore, presently, they were right here. Eye to eye.

"You look drained," Victor said, ending the quietness. His voice was smooth, practically conversational. "Drawn out night? Or then again have I been keeping you up for quite a long time?"

Aaron overlooked the insult and put a thick document on the table. "You're here since you goofed. One error, Victor. That is all it took."

Victor reclined, a sprinkle of entertainment all over. "Assuming that is what you accept, Analyst."

Aaron opened the record, uncovering photos, courses of events, and pages of notes. "These aren't irregular occasions. You didn't simply take cash or cause alarm. You organized turmoil to make a statement. What is it you need, Victor? What's the final plan?"

Victor's grin blurred. Interestingly, his appearance became serious. "Final plan?" He tapped a finger on the table nicely. "Do you have any idea what I see when I check the world, Analyst out? A delicate embroidery. Everybody strolling around, imagining all is well, neglectful of how one free string can disentangle everything. My objective wasn't turmoil — it was clearness."

Aaron's temple wrinkled. "Lucidity? You killed many individuals and demolished many lives. That is not lucidity; that is annihilation."

Victor shook his head. "But, those occasions uncovered reality. Debasement, ravenousness, carelessness — it's for the most part present, really obvious, when you strip away the interruptions. I basically offered individuals the chance to see the breaks in the establishment."

Aaron pummeled his hand on the table. "You're preposterous. Individuals needn't bother with you to 'awaken them.' They need security, strength — something you've made unimaginable."

Victor inclined forward, his eyes cold and puncturing. "Dependability is obviously false, Investigator. An untruth you grip to on the grounds that you're anxious about what lies underneath. Furthermore, here's the incongruity: you've been pursuing me for quite a long time, concentrating on me, attempting to get inside my head. Yet, what you neglect to acknowledge is that I've proactively been inside yours."

Aaron hardened. "What are you referring to?"

Victor's grin returned, this time more honed, more evil. "Each choice you've made, each step you've taken to get me — I organized it. The signs, the examples, the timing. You assume you got me since I goofed? No, Criminal investigator. I'm here since I need to be."

Aaron felt the heaviness of Victor's words sink in. The timetable, the proof, even the tip that prompted Victor's catch — everything appeared to be excessively awesome, excessively advantageous.

Victor proceeded, his tone practically taunting. "The inquiry you ought to present yourself is why I needed to be gotten. In any case, just relax, you'll find out soon enough."

A chill ran down Aaron's spine as the room appeared to become colder. He gazed at Victor, looking for any indication of shortcoming, however all he saw was determined certainty. The lowlife's psyche was a maze, and Aaron acknowledged with a premonition that he was at that point lost inside it.

Without precedent for his profession, Aaron Graves didn't know who was genuinely in charge.