Tag:   Dr Xavier<br/><br/>"My name is Kelly. Kelly Andrews, but you already know that," she joked. "You already know everything about me. This is about….," her voice trailed into silence. She laughed. It was genuine. It was soft. "I don't know what this about really. So here goes," she continued, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't deny what I did. I will not be some shy, timid butterfly proclaiming my innocense." Her eyes scanned the room looking for the shy, little teacher. "There will never be any denying it," she said slowly, her tone flat. "I believe in Karma. I believe people get what they deserve. So did all those men deserve to die," she asked, looking around the room quickly. Trying to gage an answer of some kind on the faces of the others.  "Yes. Don't talk to me about them having a life, a family, being important to someone else, no." Again she laughed, but this time it was different. "Yeah they had families and children. They begged for their lives for them when the blade was to their throat, but tell me something. Where was their concern for their family when their tongue was deep inside of me? Huh?  Where was that same concern when I was riding them, draining their balls?" She shook her head. "It didn't exist until it came to something they didn't want to happen to them. It didn't exist….until they had something to lose,"  she said,  once again searching the faces of those in the room. "I have been called Cam or The Virtual Killer. I lured men into my bedroom, had sex with them, tortured them, carved them up, and fed them to my foster family, and I'll tell you this much," she grinned. "The meat was tender. Maybe it was the workout they got before they died, but the meat was tender, juicy,  and so damn good." She wanted to stand up, to walk around the room, to become the showman she had been in front of the camera, but she remained in her seat. "It started with my foster dad. Now I won't cry and boo hooo that I had a tough childhood. Everybody has tough times, and bad things happen to a lot of people. So do I blame what I did on that? No. I think it's bullshit when people blame what they did on something that happened to them when they were younger. Bull. Shit. Grow up. Get over it. Shit happens. I killed my foster father because he touched me. That's never acceptable. It was an impulse, but damn did I love the feeling of his warm blood on my skin." Again she shook her head, realizing she was going to a .dark place. "I only cut him up because I couldn't move his whole body. It was never part of the plan. There was never a plan," she laughed once more.   "I was winging it. When it was over, I tried to get back to normal, but I wanted more. The cash, the sex, it was all good, but I wanted more. Power corrupts, and I had a taste of it when I held the power to end a life in my hands. So I went after more and more and more. I got careless, got caught, and now I'm sharing my time here. I've seen a few other doctors that have decided to deprive us of their company, thank God," she shouted. "So now I'm here, a transfer. Don't worry. I don't bite. Well, unless you ask me to," she threw a wink at the good doctor who had invited her to share. "Now anything else you wanna know, you're gonna have to ask. I'm an open book. I'm not shy at all. I'll tell you anything you want to know. Just don't ask me to go on camera. I don't do that. Not anymore."