Post by Johnathan Torrence on Feb 23, 2015 1:10:20 GMT -5
Sociopathic behavior, that which is often ignored or written off as a bad character trait, was embedded into the genetic code of the young man with the sharp gaze. Johnathan Torrance sat on the edge of his bed staring out at the stars until his eyes burned. It had been such a long time since he had made a real friend. Of the few things he remembered vividly of his childhood, the significant experiences were the only ones that mattered to him. A woman shouting, a bright flash followed by endless seas of flame. A faceless cop waving goodbye to a child as he walked away in a flurry of red and blue, and then the fights came.
One by one, each school was the same to the young boy. Filled with idiots who wanted nothing more than to sit at their colored tables in an orderly fashion adn stick crayons up their noses and draw penguins with shades of green. It was a horrifying world to be locked in when you knew more than anyone around you, knew more ABOUT anyone than those around you. Spending many days locked up in various rooms of shapes and sizes, staring out the windows to watch the ugly people walk by, learning about them from their stance, walk, what they said and why they used such ignorant language. Johnathan remembered using this knowledge to his benefit. Taking advantage of people he called "Assets," all until he found the one family that could potentially tame him. they were different, knowingly manipulated and still showed respect, as though they knew the words coming from the young boy were not just his own, but the words used to describe the needs of gods.
Johnathan took a deep sigh, tasting the dirty air as it passed through his lungs, he caught a hint of that phantom scent he missed and didn't realize it. A burnt crust, fresh from the oven like a pie a loving mother would make. It reminded him of the relaxation he experienced on the rare days he had without studying, bits of his life came back from that house, but the one that reminded him of the monster growing inside was the failure to hide his past crimes from them, how they removed him from the house without a word and enrolled him in a school for individuals like himself, to be locked away in a world of chaos and danger.
yes, Johnathan loved causing pain, as he sat on the edge of his bed, a classmate lay on the floor before him, choking on a towel as his hands were bound. The rusted pipe his associate Macht gave him still rested comfortably in his palm as he wondered where the next strike would go.
One by one, each school was the same to the young boy. Filled with idiots who wanted nothing more than to sit at their colored tables in an orderly fashion adn stick crayons up their noses and draw penguins with shades of green. It was a horrifying world to be locked in when you knew more than anyone around you, knew more ABOUT anyone than those around you. Spending many days locked up in various rooms of shapes and sizes, staring out the windows to watch the ugly people walk by, learning about them from their stance, walk, what they said and why they used such ignorant language. Johnathan remembered using this knowledge to his benefit. Taking advantage of people he called "Assets," all until he found the one family that could potentially tame him. they were different, knowingly manipulated and still showed respect, as though they knew the words coming from the young boy were not just his own, but the words used to describe the needs of gods.
Johnathan took a deep sigh, tasting the dirty air as it passed through his lungs, he caught a hint of that phantom scent he missed and didn't realize it. A burnt crust, fresh from the oven like a pie a loving mother would make. It reminded him of the relaxation he experienced on the rare days he had without studying, bits of his life came back from that house, but the one that reminded him of the monster growing inside was the failure to hide his past crimes from them, how they removed him from the house without a word and enrolled him in a school for individuals like himself, to be locked away in a world of chaos and danger.
yes, Johnathan loved causing pain, as he sat on the edge of his bed, a classmate lay on the floor before him, choking on a towel as his hands were bound. The rusted pipe his associate Macht gave him still rested comfortably in his palm as he wondered where the next strike would go.
