Jerome Valeska was crazy. There was no doubt about it. Sick, sadistic, evil. But, he wasn't always like it.
"You're crazy," Sam whimpers, trying to push herself away from me. The handcuffs don't exactly help her.
I press my lips against her cheek, s...
"I have to tell you, this is way more fun than I was expecting. We make a good team you and me," Jerome cackles, walking up to one of the mirrors and brushing his hair back with his hand.
"You killed Alfred," I bite back, stepping once again into the view of all the mirrors.
He shoots again at the mirror, causing me to fall back.
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"Is that what this is about? Yeesh. Are all rich kids this close with their butlers?" I run past again, and he shoots a mirror. "Oh!"
"This is about doing what's right," I say, seething with anger.
"You wanna be a hero?! Tell you what, buddy," he places his gun on the floor, sliding it away. "Let's do this mano y mano, my little conquistador. Come on."
I see my opportunity and run, pushing him to the floor from behind, but I topple to the ground too.
I hear the sound of metal hitting the ground, and like I suspected he was holding a knife until I knocked it out of his hand.
"What kind of hero tackles someone from behind?" He moves to get away from me, kicking me in the face when I try to stop him.
We both stand up, and he gets the first punch, making everything go blurry for just a second. But, as he goes in for another blow, I dodge it, punching him in the gut and then in the face. He swings at me again, causing me to punch him in the face then kick his knee, smacking him to the floor with a punch.
I straddle him, punching him in his disgusting face repeatedly.
"Let it out!" He laughs, making me even angrier, "That's it! That's it. Let it out..."
I pick up the mirror shard sat beside him, threatening to take the bastard on his second trip to hell.
Before I lunge, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look exactly like one of the clowns outside. A killer.
"Do it," Jerome smiles at me. He doesn't care about dying, that's for sure. He just wants to prove the point that I'm exactly like him.
He killed Alfred. One side of my head argues.
He wants you to kill him. The other side counters.
The urge to just stop him from hurting anymore people is killing me.
Instead, I scream. I scream for Alfred and all the others that Jerome murdered. I won't kill him, as much as I'd like to.
