Page 104 of The Art of Being a Psychopath

You never ask yourself why,

the smile was wide, but the eyes said,

Want.

To.

Die.”

The room fell into darkness again as he uttered his next verse.

“Arran was a quiet teen.

But his demons begged for freedom.

And the voices in his head,

told him, kill them all.

Leave them for dead.”

The spotlight came back on, illuminating him for all to see. He held a knife in one gloved hand and a rope in the other. And behind him flashed headlines of murder, using phrases such as ‘Planned Massacre’, ‘Hate Crime’ and ‘Horror Assassin’. And standing tall and proud, he exclaimed,

“Until one day he finds his power,

or the power, it finds him.

He won’t take it anymore.

He will become the law.

The crimes he witnessed as a kid,

will be avenged when he lifts that lid,

on the box they tried to keep hidden.

The life that was forbidden.

Because sins can’t be washed away.

They always come back to haunt you some day.

And for him, that day was now.

He was older.

And stronger.

And wiser.

And, wow.

He tells his father, “You can’t beat me now.

I tower over you.

I’m more aggressive, too.”