Life of a psycho

Misery

"What a little bit of... of fight! Fight in that weak, intoxicated body. Look at you. Worthless. Heh, I guess this could be a little nice. Get a little taste of what you're like. What you're like, when you're in pain!" Simon always took any advantage he could to learn about whomever is being taken. He always used to drink alone when he was going to kill someone, but now that they were both drunk, misery was undeniable.

Ember's head swayed back and forth, like a swing set while the light wind blew on it. Nothing much he could do at this point. He couldn't understand what was happening. He already vomited twice and was insanely dehydrated. Whatever strength that was used to throw the bottle and the stumbling figure in his blurry vision depleted after the first swing. He was going to black out any time now. And before he did, Simon was going to get his knife.

"I'm back!" Simon practically yelled, as though he didn't care if anyone heard him. If anyone could hear him in the first place. He had his knife at his side, swinging back in forth in his hand as he sobered up. "And let me tell you, getting around this place is crazy. I mean, it's huge! I wish I just chose a small cottage to hole you up in until you were dead. Shame. Real shame."

"Hmm..." Ember started to doze off and be shut off by this hell hole. It was great for Ember, but Simon raged into a fiery pit of rage and ferocity.

"I've been keeping you nice! And cozy! And comfortable! And all you do is fall asleep? Wake the bloody hell up! I need to see it... I need to see pain! And suffering! And Misery! Not you going off for a power nap while I sit here waiting for your brain to start working properly! WAKE UP!" The loudest shout Simon had ever emitted was let out right there. He kept on screaming, but it barley jerked Ember out of his snooze.

"There we go, was that so hard?" Simon was ready to plunge this knife into his thigh like a needle.

"Here we go! Are you ready? Of course you are! One, two, th..." Simon was cut off by the sound of police sirens and slamming doors.

"For christs sake, can't I just stab him in piece?" The irritation in his brain worked up a storm. Whichever police men he saw first, he would take them. He would not kill them quite yet though. Simon hated when he just killed them without doing a little entertaining first. At least, that's what his better side thought.

His schizophrenia really destroyed Simon's brain. Every once in a while he would have a new self that he'd never seen before, but it was rare. His two main sides to him consisted of a killing mass murderer, and a sophisticated killer. His first side just wanted to kill kill an kill some more, but his other side told him not too. Take your time. This often started arguments inside his head, which drove him crazy. It was at these times that he drank. He always kept those bottles with him whenever he moved to a new location to evade the cops. And he always had these short bursts of alcoholism whenever he captured a child. There was a fight to kill them inside of his brain.

"Just trying to get on with my day, didn't want to kill you. Guess I'm going to have to. Heh. I guess I do want to kill you." He mumbled to himself as he walked through the twists and turns of the gargantuan labyrinth.

"Keep your head low and your guns up men! Move out!"

Men? Indicating more than one? Well this is going to be entertaining. KILL THEM! JUST KILL THEM! You know what, I have to agree with that. Let's slaughter em' all. Wait. Leave... One. Just one. Double the fun.

Dust was kicked up from the stomps of the officers shoes on the hard paved floor. Trying to find their way around...