[A/N]: Hey, peeps. Here's my new story, called Such Horrible Things. It's a songfic for the song "Such Horrible Things", by Creature Feature. It will basically be a three/four chapter story, so yeah... I hope you guys like it!

The words in bold are basically the song lyrics xD

Such Horrible Things

Drake Merwin looked up from his sketchbook as he heard the cell door being opened. It was hard to draw with only his left hand, but it was ever harder when he kept being disturbed. Normally it would be the books guy, bothering Drake with the books that had been delivered this month, but this time it was different.

Two prison guards stepped in, with a rather frail looking man in between. The man was in chains and had the same hideous orange suit on like every other inhabitant of the Virginia Wood Prison, or whatever this hellhole was called.

"Merwin! You've got a new roommate", one of the guards said as he pushed the frail guy inside. The guy stumbled a few times, kicking Drake's foot as he went, before looking at Drake and scratching the back of neck sheepishly as an excuse. Drake glared at him, before turning toward his guards.

"I thought the judge said I shouldn't be getting any after the last one", he remembered them.

"The economic crisis hits everyone, including us here. There's no place left", the guard shrugged. "Learn to cope with it, Merwin, maybe you'll make a friend out of this one" He snickered and left the cell with his friend. Drake scowled at their backs, before looking at his new roommate.

The guy really was frail, reminding him of Bug for some reason. He was smiling nervously at Drake as he sized him up and down. With that innocent look on his face, Drake doubted that the guy had done any major crime, which made him look down at him even more.

"My name's Timothy Johnson", a prissy name too. "What's yours?"

"Drake."

"Cool, I had a nephew named Drake. We were like best friends", Timothy nodded a bit too fast. "Did everything together."

Drake ignored him.

"We lived quite far from each other, but we managed to pull it off. Until he… died." Timothy looked down. Drake wanted to roll his eyes at the guy, but stopped himself. He didn't want to be Diana no. 2. The guy suddenly looked up and grinned. "But other than that, I think it's a sign that we're going to be great friends."

"Sure", Drake muttered under his breath. He clenched his hand around his sketchbook, crumpling the paper a bit as he did so. He was so close to strangling the guy right now, but he refrained himself for now. He had no desire to be in that isolation cell again after last time.

"So, how old are you?"

"Why do you want to know?", Drake bit back.

"Just trying to come up with a conversation", Timothy shrugged and sat down on the bed next to Drake's. "So?"

"Eighteen", Drake decided that it wouldn't hurt to tell the guy this much.

"Ah cool, I'm nineteen, but don't worry, I won't look down on you because you're younger."

Drake glared at him. "Wouldn't want you to do that, now, would we?"

Timothy laughed nervously, but under Drake's glare, it died down quickly. "So… Eh… You seem like a pretty nice guy. What has brought you into this prison? I'm sure a guy like you hasn't done such horrible things."

"Are you implying that I'm weak?", Drake gritted his teeth.

"No", Timothy raised his hands in defense. "No, I never said that! I was just…"

"What?!", he snapped.

"I just meant that these days justice is very hard to find. So, I thought that maybe you were innocent, like I am. Not saying that you're weak! I was just looking for a way for us to connect, since we both will be in this room together for a very long time."

Drake narrowed his eyes. "Sit back now. Let me tell you a tale of just how innocent I am. Let's see if you think we're going to be great friends then." He grinned as Timothy sat down. "What you say it true, this is a place where justice does not prevail. But with me, that isn't exactly the case. It's not like my story is about fairytales and roses."

Timothy gulped. "What is it about then?"

"It's about an ill-fated life. Now that I think about it, it was so very full of strife." Huh, maybe Ladris was right. Maybe he actually did seek out violence. Oh well, it's not like he would ever say that out loud, nor did it matter now anyway. After all, he was stuck in this cell with a this fucking brat.

"Oh, c'mon… It was probably justified. I mean, if someone hits you, it's only logical if you hit back."

Drake looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Are you really that naïve?"

Timothy looked at him with a confused expression.

He laughed without mirth. "Well, you will learn a lot from my story then. After all, in life there are many situations where two wrongs do not make right. Not that I care what's wrong and what's right."

"So…"