His Tattoo
Atlas racked his hands through his hair as tiny drops of water cascaded over his broad shoulder, spilling down over his chest and onto his lower parts.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head up. His lips curled up at the thought of the adrenaline that rushed through him today when he was killing Lucas.
Atlas has always known he wasn't a normal person the first time he killed someone. He had laughed and enjoyed every part of even though he was just 14 years old.
He liked the fear he saw in people who thought they were more powerful than others when he was killing them. Maybe it's because he was bullied.
He had this stupid sense of giving justice to society by getting rid of these people. Don't confused him with a hero because he was villain in his own twisted way.
Everyone was a sinner but some people deserved to get a taste of hell on earth before they died and he didn't mind being the grim ripper.