I'm So Sick, Infected With Where I Live [The Escape]

He sat in his padded room, eyes down, quiet, still. Nothing happened, he just sat. Waiting, he was waiting for something but no one would know. How was anyone to tell when he didn't express anxiety, or eagerness, or anything for that matter. For all the emotions he displayed they could have thought him dead. What a shame for them I'm not. It was peaceful in his room, which itched him more than the waiting. Peace was boring, nothing of interest ever happened in peace. Being bored was not something he stood up to well - though it was the only thing, except maybe his impulses, but he liked his impulses.

The peace continued to itch, the crawling sensation down his spine making him want to disturb it somehow, yet he knew that it was his time to wait. If they disappointed it would be their necks on the line, and he was always a straight cut. Then it came, a click, a crack of outside light forming a line to him. He was up in a moment, his makeshift shiv in hand - no one dared be around him long enough to search him, folly on their part. Shoulder forward he charged the door, knocking it wide and flinging the small nurse aside. It made him grin to hear the thud of her body against the wall.

It had been too long, they had starved me too long. Now I had been served a feast and I would eat. I would eat, and drink.

The nurse, I knew her face and it only made it all the sweeter as I cut her throat open. She gasped for air and I hitched up her skirt. I had starved too long.

When he had finished with her and turned around he noticed the two guards with her were dead. He smiled wolfishly, pleased that they were as useful as he had suspected. Already bloody, he walked the hallway. His stride told everyone he owned it, and he did now, but he would abandon it soon enough. Once he was satiated he would be gone.

There were enough nurses and guards to fulfil his desire, if only just, and if only for the moment. Blood welled under his fingers and he played with the red liquid, screams of pain filled his ears and made him smile. It really had been too long, how sad for all of them. If they had only let him do as he wished, this wouldn't have happened. Not all at once anyway.

He walked down the hallway, dispatching any member of the staff he came across. Some he treated to like the nurse, others he just left to die in a pool of their own blood. It was all the same in the end, they all died, their blood was all smeared everywhere. He was slowly easing the hunger, but it would take more than two, more than ten. Death would run this place. He left the other prisoners alone because in the end they would die, and he had no reason to waste his attention on people that far below him. The staff, well they starved him, now they would feast him.

The girl, ah he had found her. She was as he thought, quick, smart, methodical.

Useful. Not boring.

He came up beside her, not looking at her but instead surveying her work.

If there was a use to being appreciative, I may have felt so. Instead there wasn't, so I wasn't.

"Name." It was a question and a statement, a test and an order. Time to see if she really was smart. A boy appeared around a corner. "You too." Time to see about both of them. They had been useful so far, but if they weren't smart he didn't want them. The dumb were a liability.

And boring.

He was bored enough as it was, he didn't need more boredom.