Shut up.

Shut up.

Atrox had always told everyone to shut up.

Everytime they wanted to tell him something, everytime they offered to help, or to tell a joke, or to invite him, he'd tell them to shut up. He didn't want to hear what they had to say, because he didn't want to hear anyone's voice if what they had to say differs from his beliefs.

He didn't want anyone to invite him anywhere, or to talk to him about a differing opinion. He only uncovered his ears if what they say is the same to his mind. He wanted someone to get. He wanted everyone to think the way he does.

But nobody knows what his mind's really like.

In fact, they never bothered to ask, because he'll just tell them to shut up.

He talks to himself every night, pretending he's a different person, saying things he wants to hear. His dreams were for everyone to finally get him, to know what he knows. But nobody knows who he is. They can't. He won't let them.

He occasionally daydreams about inflicting violence on anyone he desires, to hear them scream. He would grin ear to ear, maliciously laughing at the thought of his victim suffering. He wanted to claw the eyes out of whoever asked him anything. His mind ached for everyone to suffer, to know what pain is like. He wanted everyone to be real in his eyes.

Everyone is so happy, so innocent, no murder anywhere. No corpse, no drugs, no sex.

It sickened him. He wanted the dark times. He wanted this planet to be engulfed in it.

And then he met her.

She was as horrible as he was in his eyes. She was loudmouthed, horrid, mean. He felt so lucky to find such a girl that sees what he sees, thinks how he thinks. He wanted to set afoot on a new life with her.

The moment she caught him in his desires, he found the real her.

Scared, nice, trustworthy.

Just like everyone else.