Sociopathic [ On Hold ]

Chapter 5

- Afternoon of April 9th, 1994

Even though he had only been to Larry's office once or twice with his mother, Tate somehow knew exactly where it was.
Well, not exactly him, but the voices seemed to know where they were going.
Walking down the street, he got a few odd looks, but simply ignored them. They would probably know who he was tomorrow and then regret not stopping him for the rest of their lives.
Oh, well. Not his problem.
After a twenty minute walk, he reached the building. It was nothing extraordinary, it looked like any boring old office building.
He had no fucking clue why people wanted to work in these places. Hell, if he ever ended up working in one of those places, he would probably kill himself right then and there.
Oh, wait, he already was.
Walking into the building's lobby, he didn't bother to say hello to the people at the front desk. They didn't even notice him.
Going down one of the hallways, he soon found himself in front of double doors that led into Larry's office area.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.
You know you want to do it, Tate, think of how that bastard made your dad run off. Think of how he murdered your brother. He needs to pay, Tate. Make him pay.
The voices spoke soothingly to him, convincing him that he needed to do this.
They were right, Larry did need to pay for all the shit that he did. He deserved what was about to come to him.
Clearing his throat, he opened his eyes, making his face emotionless as he opened the doors, spotting Larry's office immediately and walking towards it.
While his eyes were locked on Larry, out of the corners of his eyes he saw all the other workers acting as if they normally would, almost like he was invisible.
Finally reaching the glass door that opened into Larry's office, he went in.
Larry was doing his bullshit job, typing numbers into a calculator, stopping and looking up when he noticed Tate come in.
"Tate!" Larry sounded chipper at first, but then his face grew confused. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in school?"
Almost immediately, Tate answered. "I'm going right after."
Larry's expression grew more confused, "After what?"
Glaring straight at the man, Tate's face still managed to stay emotionless.
Do it, do it, do it. The voices chanted in his head.
After staying silent for a few seconds, Larry returned to his work, punching in a few more numbers.
Suddenly, Tate stepped forward, pouring the gasoline onto Larry.
Larry jumped up, trying to wipe the gas off. "Oh, oh, oh!"
While the man was still trying to get the gas off, Tate quickly pulled out a match and lit it, looking at Larry as he waited for the man to notice.
Finally, Larry managed to open one of his eyes, covering the other with his left hand, holding his right hand up as if to stop Tate.
Before he could make an argument or stop the boy, Tate flicked the match onto him, watching for a moment as Larry quickly caught on fire.
As Larry started screaming, Tate turned away, making a quick escape from the office building.
On the walk out, Larry's screaming brought him a sick sense of pleasure.
Quite frankly, it wasn't like Tate was doing anything wrong. Larry brought it on himself.
He was the one who fell for his mother's tricks, causing Larry's wife and daughters to burn themselves alive.
It was also Larry's fault that Tate's father left him alone with the cocksucker.
Tate also knew that Larry had something to do with Beau's death.
If anything, setting him on fire was too kind. He deserved to be tortured, but Tate didn't have time for that.
Hopefully the fire would leave Larry's body with decent scars if it didn't end up killing him.
Now he would know how his wife and daughters felt like.
The voices praised Tate for his accomplishment.
Tossing the empty red can and matches into a random trash can, Tate started making his way to the place that he called his hell away from home.
Westfield High.