A killers persona

Killers Instinct

Chapter Three:

Ethan sat on the edge of his bed, the first light of dawn creeping through the curtains. The sleepless nights had taken their toll, leaving him an empty shell of his former self. His pale skin was almost ghostly, and his ruby-red eyes had lost their sparkle. The darkness within him had grown stronger, feeding off his despair and weariness. The battle for control had become too much to bear.

He stood up, the wooden floor creaking beneath his feet. The mirror across the room reflected a hollow figure, a boy consumed by his inner demons. But as Ethan stared at his reflection, a slow, unsettling smile spread across his lips. He could feel the darker persona stirring, its cold laughter echoing in his mind.

"You can't fight me forever," the cold voice whispered. "It's time to embrace who you really are."

Ethan's expression shifted from a smile to a full-blown grin, a disturbing sight that contrasted sharply with his innocent appearance. He began to chuckle, the sound low and sinister, growing louder until it turned into a maniacal laugh that filled the room.

"It's time for me to shine," he muttered, his voice a twisted mix of excitement and malice.

He walked over to his desk and opened the drawer, revealing his favorite knife. The blade gleamed in the morning light, and Ethan's fingers brushed over the cold metal with a sense of familiarity and longing. He picked it up and held it to his face, licking the blade slowly, tasting the steel.

"Yes," he whispered. "The fun is about to begin."

***

At school, Ethan donned his mask of normalcy, the facade of a quiet, unassuming student. His classmates and teachers saw only the feeble boy, always keeping to himself and avoiding confrontation. But beneath that mask, the darker persona simmered, eagerly awaiting its next opportunity to surface.

The hallways were crowded with students, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Ethan moved through the throng like a ghost, his mind focused on a single goal. He had chosen his target carefully, someone who would never see it coming.

As the day wore on, Ethan's anticipation grew. The darkness within him pulsed with excitement, urging him forward. He found himself staring at his chosen victim—a boy named Jake, one of the few who had ever tried to befriend Ethan. But Jake's kindness meant nothing to the darker persona; it saw only an opportunity to feed its insatiable hunger.

***

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Ethan followed Jake down a deserted street. The shadows lengthened, and the air grew colder. Ethan's heart raced with anticipation, his mind consumed by the thrill of what was to come.

Hey, Jake," he called out, his voice eerily calm.

Jake turned, a welcoming smile on his face. "Oh, hey Ethan. What's up?"

Ethan's smile broadened, but it remained devoid of warmth. "Just wanted to catch up. It's been a while."

Jake nodded, unsuspecting. "Yeah, it has. How have you been?"

"Better," Ethan replied, his hand slipping into his pocket to grasp the knife's handle. "Much better."

Before Jake could react, Ethan lunged forward with a ferocity that belied his slender frame. The knife arced through the air, its blade catching the dim light for a fleeting second before plunging into Jake's abdomen. Jake's eyes widened in sheer terror, a strangled gasp escaping his lips.

Ethan twisted the knife viciously, reveling in the wet, sickening sound of flesh tearing and blood gushing. He withdrew the blade only to drive it in again, deeper this time, savoring the sensation of power it gave him. Jake's warm blood spurted out, splattering Ethan's hands and clothes, the metallic tang filling his nostrils.

Jake crumpled to the ground, clutching his stomach, his life ebbing away in crimson streams. But Ethan wasn't done. He knelt beside Jake's writhing form, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic light. He brought the knife down repeatedly, each thrust accompanied by a guttural growl, a sound that was almost primal.

Jake's pleas for mercy grew weaker, his eyes glazed with pain and disbelief. Ethan leaned in close, his breath hot and ragged against Jake's ear.

"You should have stayed away," he hissed, his voice a twisted blend of triumph and insanity.

With one final, brutal slash across Jake's throat, Ethan ended it. The boy's body convulsed once before going still, a pool of blood spreading beneath him like a dark halo. Ethan stood, panting, his chest heaving with exertion and exhilaration. The knife, slick with blood, gleamed in the faint light.

Ethan surveyed his handiwork, a grim satisfaction settling over him. He felt alive, more alive than he had ever felt. The darkness within him roared in approval, feeding off the violence and chaos.

"It's time for me to shine," he whispered again, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his own heart.

The deed complete, Ethan walked away from the scene, his mind a maelstrom of exhilaration and satisfaction. The mask of normalcy had shattered, revealing the true face of the monster within. He knew this was only the beginning, that the darkness would continue to burgeon, nourished by his unquenchable thirst for domination and chaos.

As he vanished into the night, Ethan felt a perverse sense of serenity. The battle for supremacy was far from over, but for now, the darker persona reigned unchallenged. The killer's instinct had been unleashed, and there was no turning back.