Lies #1: Panic

Chapter 1

Cover art drawn by https://prettyinaccurate.tumblr.com/

Link to original post for no blurriness:

https://prettyinaccurate.tumblr.com/post/185283007692/i-feel-like-drawing-dark-sides-virgil-once-wasnt

This fanfic contains disturbing topics. If any of the following warnings specify one of your triggers, do not read. Reader discretion advised.

TW: Gore, implied/mentions of rape, panic attacks, mentions of abuse, serious mental disorders, small usage of uncensored swearing, and murder.

This fanfic is on the shorter side, being 56 pages long (19,251 words). Do not turn away because of this, it is still very descriptive and well written.

This fanfic is the first in a planned series and is centered on Virgil Sanders. The following books will each be centered on a different side. Also note that they will be going backwards in chronological order. The order of when the books take place is this: #4, #3, #2, #1, #5. Keep this in mind when future books are published.

That is all. Enjoy this fanfic.

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On a dark, cloudy October day in Brooklyn, New York City, not many people were out and about in the city. The weather was slightly chilly and gray, the sun covered by clouds and smog. In the depths of the suburban life, in a small apartment, there lived a 22-year-old man by the name of Virgil Sanders.

His last name had not always been Sanders, of course. The memories his old name brought him had made him change it the moment he was eighteen and had enough money to pay for all the bills. This had only been two years before, once he had secured his stay-at-home job as a digital artist. Lots of people commissioned pieces from him, as he was very good. He did not think that was true and did not trust their opinions about it. In fact, he did not trust anybody's opinions about anything, nor did he trust the actual people. There was not a single soul in the world that he trusted, not even himself. Everyone was his enemy; everyone was someone to be feared.

Where the name had come from, he did not know, nor when he had ever heard of such a name in the first place. Of course, there was Bernie Sanders, but Virgil did not keep up with politics and would never want to be specifically named after a politician. He didn't even particularly like the name. It had simply been waiting in the back of his mind. Before changing his name, he had never made a list of names to change it to. He just knew he wanted to change it. And when the question came up- "what name would you like to have now?"- he had not had a single doubt or regret when writing "Sanders". It had come naturally, as if something inside him always knew his name was to be this. It was as if fate had intervened. He did not inquire himself about it then, and he never had up to the present day. It was simply his name. Virgil Sanders. When he would say it, he would draw out the two 's'es like a snake. It was not a very Virgil thing to do, but he did it none the less, and nobody asked about it.

The dim lights flickered above him. Virgil looked up at them cautiously, almost expecting them to explode and send glass raining down upon his head. They did not. The bulbs would sputter every now and then, but the power had never fully gone out. It was inanimate objects like these that Virgil put his trust in. Unlike people, they were usually predictable and accomplished their purposes quite well. Unlike people, you could replace the object once it was broken. You could not, however, replace broken people.

He was sitting on his bed, in his bedroom, doodling on a sketchbook. Drawing digitally was his job, but he also liked traditional artwork. It was harder to do, but it felt a lot more rewarding when finished. The picture he was currently making was of a Labrador; he had seen one while at the grocery store earlier that morning. It was all in pencil, as he was not planning on inking or coloring it.