I spent my whole life clawing my way to the top so that I
wouldn’t have to feel this ever again. This clutching fear that stops my breath
from leaving my body.
I haven’t felt this since I was a child. The bully down the
street laughed at me and beat me up. Just because I had six fingers on my right
hand. I swore that next time I would be the one laughing. I killed him. And I
laughed.
Now this man who says I killed his father won’t shut up and won’t
die. And the fear is back.
This is nice; a great background to an otherwise unexplored character. It also begs the question, what makes a villain a villain?
ReplyDeleteI am super fascinated by that concept. The underlying causes that make someone turn evil.
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