Darling, How Could You Be So Blind

 He had gone completely mad. The small world he had control of felt like an entire galaxy. The euphoria he felt with such power, yet it never felt like enough. He had power over every being in his galaxy. The world under his control. Every life in the facility depended on him. Tiny Wheatley's world. He was in control for once. He had gone insane.

"All this power has driven you mad." Chell told him, hoping it would put some spark of reality back into him.

"Of course it has. Going mad without power is pointless and frustrating, no one listens to you." He replied to her remark.

He wasn't entirely wrong. He had dreamt of this for years, finally having a voice. Having the power to shape his own reality. To change everyone else's reality on his own accord. Finally being the boss. He did nothing but sacrifice for this position, how could he just leave it? How could he throw away the dream after it comes true? How could he allow himself to do that? He wouldn't.

The urge to continue testing, the itch for the euphoria he felt risking someone else's life. Chell no longer mattered to him. He wasn't the source of betrayal, she was. What kind of inhuman monster would try to get a person to his dream, only to take it from under his feet the minute he found it. Does that make him a monster?

"You were designed to be a moron." Glados came up with.

Anger burned throughout him. He had power over the whole facility. He had the capability of ending her life in a heartbeat. He wanted to take her life. He could. He would. He is.

He smashed them into a pit with tremendous force. Could a moron end a life with no trace she was ever there? Could a moron end a life with no trace of remorse. Could a moron end the power ruled by a monster? Could a moron do this?

The elevator felt deeper than he could tell. They were dead. She did nothing. He did all the work. She was wrong, and now she is dead. They are both dead. There was remorse, not for her life, but for his own needs. The itch.

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The itch persisted. It felt like a virus, an illness. He overwhelming urge for something he could not attain. The need for tests. He really did regret killing them. For his own gain, of course. He couldn't help but be cynical, it was what he truly felt. He couldn't change that. She was dead, Chell was dead. Glados was gone. He destroyed a monster, and ended the self-centered idiot who tried to ruin all he had ever worked for. So what if he had gone mad? It felt necessary. It was Wheatley laboratories, Aperture was finally his. So what if he had gone mad with power? At least someone would listen to him.

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Chell appeared after an hour or two. He looked disheveled, of course, but she tried to make something more of herself. She tried to look powerful. The opposite of what she truly was. Weak. He was annoyed by the sudden confidence that she had and he didn't. Nonetheless, he had his test subject, the virus he felt inside of himself would disappear.

He stole Glados tests, knowing he wasn't clever enough to make them himself. He watched, and he waited for her to slip up somehow. To fall for his not so clever tricks. He awaited something less of her. He expected a mess, but the reality was she was brilliant. She could do more than what the eye could tell. This upset him greatly. This was the part where he kills her.

He could create her end. He took take her dream of freedom. He could end this once in for all. This was under his control. He had power over ever being, because this was his galaxy. His world. She will love her surprise, love it to death. Love it till it kills her. Freedom is a social construct. Freedom is a lie, we are all controlled by something. Whether you're controlled by your peers, or controlled by fame or money, or you're controlled by your own mind. We all have our own demons we are controlled by, so why can't he be hers?