When Violence Ensues: Slenderverse Short Stories.

Story Seventy Eight: Darkness Calls.

Patrick huffed as HABIT chuckled dryly from the other side of the observation room. The observation room was very simply; a dorm room with a bulletproof glass wall that allowed direct observation of the patient. HABIT, had found himself in this room, due to the fact that he attacked Ruth with a coffee mug- resulting in her needing nine stitches. The dark haired teenager had managed to split Ruth's lip and eyebrow, with a coffee mug. Patrick sat in the chair a few metres away from the glass window, and folded his arms neatly across his chest; clearly irritated, "Good evening, HABIT." Patrick stated, stiffly. It was obvious through the blonde's tone of voice that he was angered by HABIT's behaviour and attitude.

As if it were a harmless prank.

HABIT raised an eyebrow and leaned back on the wooden chair on the opposite side of the glass window, his wrists bound with handcuffs. Suitable; for a criminal.

"Evenin', hotshot." He drawled in response, a smug smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as Patrick scowled and looked to Dr Corenthal- whom of which was seated at a desk by the wall, scribbling down notes. The doctor glanced up to meet Patrick's gaze, and then turned his attention towards HABIT,

"HABIT, you are aware that what you did was awful- am I correct?" He questioned, much to HABIT's irritation. The shorter teenager rolled his eyes and shrugged,

"I don't, frankly, give a shit. She was getting on my nerves-"

"She was changing your bandages, HABIT!" Patrick exclaimed, sitting up straight in his chair as HABIT chuckled once more- head tilted to the side as he observed the way Patrick's body language changed. HABIT's smirk fell from his lips as Patrick rubbed at his face and sighed; exasperated, "You should not have just- just attacked Ruth like that!"

The dark haired teenager tapped his foot against the floor- his beat up sneakers drumming quietly against the cold wooden floor. No remorse was evident in his expression, nor his tone of voice as he quipped, "Well, shit happens." He mused, idly reaching his arms out to showcase the sterile bandages wrapped around his right arm. The bandages covered a fresh set of scratches HABIT had obtained from yet another rage-fuelled fistfight with the red-haired Mave.

Dr. Corenthal frowned, ceasing the action of jotting down notes in his notebook on the desk in front of him. He was assessing HABIT's behaviour- his mental state. After all; it was the doctor's job to assess and treat.

HABIT, however, lacked any signs of repentance for his actions. Was there an existing way to treat that?

Hence why Patrick was currently sitting, grabbing HABIT's full attention. If there was anything- anyone who could install some sense into the teenager, it was Patrick. In reality- Patrick was their only hope in breaking through HABIT's steel wall of a psyche.

"I am so angry." Patrick sighed, looking to Dr.Corenthal before glancing back to his best friend- currently restrained behind the bulletproof glass, "Everything was looking up. You seemed so much happier- HABIT, Ruth and Winona are our friends!" The blonde stated, volume increasing slightly in frustration as HABIT rocked back in the wooden chair and observed lazily, "You were getting better!"

"I was never getting better!" HABIT sneered, standing suddenly from the chair and moving toward the glass window- his anger flaring, "I'm a very good actor, Patty. You of all people should know that." The male hissed, as Patrick stood from his own chair and moved toward the glass in retaliation, his arms falling to his sides,

"You are also a hilarious, witty and cunning individual. Yet you always seem to give in to the darkness that you state you are afraid of." The taller other countered, his voice firm and cold. While this confrontation occurred, Dr.Corenthal observed silently- making no move to intervene.

Perhaps that was for the best.

"What was it you always used to say?" HABIT purred, grinning as Patrick attempted to remain stone-faced and neutral, "The best nights are spent conversing, and the conversing is best with intelligent people?"

"Stop changing the subject." Patrick interrupted, exhausted with his friend's antics, "You are tiring me."

"That is my job." HABIT chuckled in response- quite obviously not taking the situation seriously. Upon this realisation, something within Patrick snapped, and he stiffened- lapsing into a dangerous silence. Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, HABIT opened his mouth to speak only to be silenced by Patrick raising his hand- gesturing for HABIT to simply not speak. Frustrated, angry tears filled the blonde's eyes as he looked to his best friend- his eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he fought back the tears,

"You, are my best friend. You do awful things sometimes, and usually I am able to cope with it and help you through it and the consequences. The problem, is that you never know which lines not to cross. You live life like a freight train, HABIT!" Patrick snarled, catching both HABIT and Dr.Corenthal off guard. After all, the taller teenager was not quite so known for his anger, "What more do you want, HABIT?! I am so tired of being here. After letting you in, trusting you and you know I'll never stop! You know that; even after all of the awful things you do, I will never stop. In conclusion, I hope you sleep well in your observation room- goodnight." He seethed, trembling with fury as he turned on his heel and made his way away from the observation room, to continue down the hallway- only to be stopped by a faint voice.

"M'sorry, Patrick." HABIT mused quietly, gaze cast to the ground as he gritted his teeth. Patrick, refusing to turn around and face HABIT, wiped at the tears that started to seep down his face, and inhaled deeply,

"That is what I needed to hear." The blonde responded flatly, his voice cracking as he set off down the hall- heading toward the infirmary to check up on Ruth and Winona.

Dr.Corenthal finished writing down some notes on what had just occurred, and stood from his desk. Within HABIT's dark eyes, a flicker of remorse resided. This was vaguely comforting to see, as HABIT glared at the glasses-wearing doctor, "What are you starin' at?!"

"Nothing. Thank you, HABIT. You will remain here until I have come to a decision with Ruth and Winona on what to do. Goodnight, HABIT." Dr.Corenthal spoke respectfully, giving a light nod to the teenager before leaving the observation room and setting off back down the hall- two security guards starting their shifts in watching over HABIT and making sure he did not escape.

HABIT gritted his teeth, and resorted to sitting back down on the chair in the centre of the room, a sigh slipping past his lips.

There was a lot of making up to do.

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