"Have you ever wondered what might lurk beyond that which you freely show? No? Not many people do, or perhaps you don't understand what I'm talking about. Which, while forgivable for a member of general populace, is not so for yourself. You should be above that, so allow me to inform you.
Most people, live out their pitiful lives treading an unsteady path across a rope bridge defined by rules. Rules which are designed and governed to keep you safe. Or so we believe. We have made everything in our nature, illegal or wrong in some way or another. To the point where we actually get embarrassed to show our bodies?
Look at any other animal in the world. Does a dog get embarrassed while having sex if someone else watches? No it doesn't. Does a tiger feel guilty after killing prey? No it doesn't.
We are the single most complex creature on this planet. Yet we are so obsessed about the little things and inconsequential things, that we forget to live.
I suppose you're just another one of those pencil-pushers sent to try and Psychoanalyse me. Find out just what makes me tick. Why I do the things I do.
I must admit right off, that you won't get very far. It took me years to understand it. So much time to break through the restraints placed upon me, and indeed us all from birth.
Your file? Probably filled with reports on everything I've done. People killed. Murder, rape. The usual. To be honest I don't really care. I wanted to do those things, so I did."
The man sat at a plain enough table. Dressed well and immaculate. Red hair, yellow eyes. A lazy smile. He seemed pleasant enough. Always referring to one as 'sir' or by name. But behind it all lurked a Cold and calculating anomaly.
A gloved hand rose, effeminate gestures punctuating his words.
"I'm not here to discuss those previous details. The Baron wants me to…discuss your 'relationship' with one known as Jak."
The façade cracked slightly, a look of hate entering piercing eyes.
"Jak…heh. I suppose Jak could be considered as my greatest achievement. And my Ultimate downfall."
A reminiscent look fell upon his face.
"What you need to understand about me, is that I am not hired for nothing. I'm intelligent. So are others. I'm strong, again so are others. I'm respected by everyone. A select few people are more so. But the deciding reason I am where I am. Is because I am what might be termed 'vicious'."
A sharp malevolent smirk rolled in.
"At a risk of being cliché, I believe it started in my early childhood."
A pained look crossed his face, as though the memory hurt. A perfect act. A ruse, designed to lure people into thinking they had him at their mercy. When in fact he was completely in control. A puppeteer playing the strings like a fine-honed instrument.
"My father was the typical Working man. A hard-working man who liked his drink. He had many troubles, upon which he bestowed his family the brunt of his frustration. My mother more than me at first. Then as I grew older, I received the brunt of his displeasure."
A faintly disgusted look breezed across his face, a leather-coated hand spreading out, as if in a plea for help.
"I sported injuries constantly. Though it hurt, it didn't do me as badly as my mother. I discovered a latent attraction to pain. Being masochistic helped me. Being sadistic was another tool.
I have never pretended to harbour love for my father. An emotion as complex and unforgiving as it should only be bestowed upon those who truly deserve it. My father is not one of those people. He died when I was thirteen."
A sharp malicious grin entered his expression. A gloved hand clenching into a fist.
"I smothered him in his sleep. A messy job. Not very well done. My first kill. It gave me a taste of something I yearned for. Power. Control. As I grew older, and stronger. I killed more and more. I was finally caught by the guard. And was to be executed. But instead."
He gestured at his uniform and armour.
"They hired me into their 'research and development' programs. Jak, came along later.
But the point in all this, and my original question. Most people, myself included at one point, live by a set of rules. Well ordered immaculate rules. And we live by them, most of us, to an extent.
Everyone has other parts to them. Parts which don't believe in following the rules. Parts which want to kill and rape and plunder. Most of us deny them, and harbour them within, never showing or freeing it. Never letting go. "
A nasty smile crossed his face.
"My job is to make people let go."
