This book was inspired by TesxDol and her story "Hidden Demons" I really like her books, and I've always liked the dark type of writing but I never really thought of how I wanted to have it be like, but her I really like her story and I got inspired by it, so all inspiration goes to her!
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Ethan Dolan. I was labeled "the sexiest man alive" but that perspective changed once I started showing signs of being a psychopath. I had strange fantasies of what it would feel like to take the life of someone, watch slowly as I feel they're body go limp against me, blood squirting out onto me as I rip they're throat open.
Though, with me still having this sick & twisted ideas implanted inside my brain every time I would pass someone on the street of the busy sidewalks of downtown. I am not chained up, in prison, locked somewhere far away from any other sort of life form, I just look like any other person you see. Just someone you pass by and never see again.
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I take out my keys, fumbling with the different keys I had. I finally found the house keys, sticking it into the lock and twisting watching my door slowly open to reveal my nicely polished house. I had light gray walls, black tile and a few nicely colored red furniture placed neatly in a specific order around my house.
I walked upstairs to my room, setting down everything I had in my hands. I checked my watch 2:45 pm. perfect. I looked up, taking steps towards my bedroom window. I was just on time. I looked down at the house across the street. There he is. Grayson Bailey. A 17 year old boy who attends Redwood High School. I would be lying if I said I didnt follow him to school every once in a while. He was perfect, light brown hair with golden tips, I remember following him down to the barber shop as he kindly asked the lady who was assigned to him if he could frost his tips. His lips were a bright pink and they were so soft, almost like a cloud. He had beautiful golden hazel eyes that made me melt everytime I saw them.
His mother worked at the city Insane Asylum, I had always wondered why grayson didnt attend his school anymore I later found out he had found an open position at the Asylum, working alongside his mother.
As I awed over grayson I was interrupted when I heard muffled cries and shuffling feet coming from my basement, I growled as I made my way down to my basement. I kicked down the door, the aroma of rotting bodies, dried & new blood hit my nose. I loved it. I walked down the wooden stairs turning to see Cameron Dallas, one of graysons friends, had broken off one of his leg chains. I walked slowly over to him making a tsk' tsk' tsk' noise as I stared darkly down at him. He was so frail, his body was dirty and covered in old blood stains that now turned from its bright red to a deep brown. I squat down so I was level to him. "Now Cameron, I warned you that if you tried getting out that it would be your last warning." Cameron's already red eyes began watering as a few tears streaked down his cheeks. "p-please no.." Cameron pleaded, I ignored him as I walked over to the brown coffee table that I had thrown down here, what lay on top of the table was various knives, guns, bats, cleavers and more. I eyed my options making up my mind on a wired bat, I caressed my fingers lightly along the wires before I gripped the handle with a firm grasp. I saw Cameron back away, the chains rattled in my ears as he continued to plead and cry for me not to hurt him. I gave everyone 3 strikes, if you get strike 3 then you're gone.
As I approached Cameron slowly I began a small whistle, a tune I made up that I had heard in one of my dreams. I stopped in front of him and looked down coldly, scolding him. "I told you the rules, you broke them. it's only time you pay" I said deeply. He continued to plead but I once again ignored his plea. I kicked him in the side harshly, I could have sworn I heard a pop. He fell into his side easily since he was so weak from not eating and dehydration.
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𝘼𝙎𝙔𝙇𝙐𝙈 [might come back]
Fanfiction| a·sy·lum | "/əˈsīləm/" noun 1. the protection granted by a nation to someone who has left their native country as a political refugee.