He liked to sharpen his knives in order to calm himself down.
Before he met her, there was no need. Proton had nothing he desired; he merely enjoyed inflicting pain on others. Unfortunately, since he had met the woman at the Slowpoke Well, all he had wanted to do was slice her clothes off with his knife and do very, very bad things to her.
He flinched as the door to the break room opened. He momentarily stopped sharpening the blade to listen out. She would be beneath him, squirming, moaning, as he ran the blade down her thigh. She would shudder as he slipped inside-
"Proton."
He twitched. His world was destroyed. Instead, Petrel stood before him, confusion overtaking the purple haired man's expression.
"Can I help you?" he asked venomously, examining his extremely sharp pocket knife with disappointment. It wasn't enough. He ran the blade against the sharpener, relishing in the sound it made as the metal glided against it.
"You should be on your way to Goldenrod by now. You're supposed to be scoping out the operation that's coming up in a few weeks-" Proton flung the knife into the wall nearest to Petrel's head, effectively ending the conversation. Petrel stared at him in disbelief, looking from him to the knife, comically.
"You've gone and made me lose my knife, Petrel. Now I can't…" he trailed off, the nineteen-year-old's face filling his mind. He would take her by surprise, yes. She would never know it was coming. He'd video tape it too, send it to that Dragon master…
"What the hell's happened to you, Proton?!" Petrel shouted, yanking the blade out of the wall and tossing it to the ground. "It's that stupid bitch from last week, isn't it? Fuck it, I'm going to Archer-"
"Why won't you just let me have my fun?"
"W-What?" Petrel asked, his voice shaking slightly. Proton slowly turned his head towards the other Executive, his eyes narrowing. He took pleasure in the slight tremor that was present in his voice; the biggest high Proton got was from scaring people. He was good at it too. He let people think they were close to him, and then he would strike. He cocked his head slightly, staring blankly at the purple haired man.
"I just want to have some fun with her. That's all…just a little fun." His grin was predatory; it made Petrel take an uncomfortable step backwards. Petrel shook his head, not giving him another look as he left the break room, slamming the door. Proton bent down, slowly picking the knife off the floor. It glinted back at him.
Was she innocent?
Had the Dragon master already gotten there before he had?
He stared at the knife in his hands, the sharpener long forgotten. He wanted to cause her pain. He wanted her to scream.
And then he wanted her to moan.
It would be a good night, he decided. She would never be able to forget him; he would be on her mind until she went crazy with desire, and sought him out herself. He could feel her lips against his own, soft and wanting. She was so beautiful.
Only beauty like that deserved to be torn apart by him.
Proton hopped to his feet, sliding the knife back into his pocket. By this time, Lyra should be on her way to Goldenrod. If he left now, there was no way he would miss seeing her. He wouldn't take her yet. Nah. She needed to know though.
She needed to know that he would be the one to rip apart any innocence she had left.
