Silence. That's the only thing that was hear able in the room. That,and the near silent noise of a pencil moving across a paper.

It's so weird. No,scratch that. Life in general is weird. No,scratch that. Everything is weird! Yeah,that sounds so much better. I feel like I'm one of those sifi-horror story writers writing my next big novel. Wait a sec,it could! It could be call "Brother Grimm's Journal!" Yeah,I like that name. But then,people would see all my thoughts and secrets,and I would get in trouble for all the stuff I do,and I don't think I'm ready to get in trouble for something like that just yet. Besides,It's not my fault that the world doesn't' understand the favor I'm doing. They don't understand the trouble I go through to make the world a better place,no one does... And with that,I have no one to talk to,and with no one to talk to,there is no-

A muffling and having breathing broke the writers train of thought. He sat there at his desk for a moment. Just listening. Waiting. Almost shaking,but not from fear,but almost,an excitement. It was like waking up on Christmas morning and just waiting on your mother to tell you that it was time to open the presents. Luckily,this present was the same way it always was: wrapped in a body bag and just waking up. Sweating and unaware of what was going on. Confused,and it fueled his excitement even more. The muffling turned into small pants and then it turned into screaming.

"Help! Someone help me! Where am I?!"

That and a whole bunch of other nonsense was being spewed out by his "present". And to be frank,it was making him tired. He never did like hearing them complain or beg for help. It always mad him even madder and made him want nothing more but to slice their throats wide open. Or to bash the skull in with the mallet,or set them on fire,or any of the hundreds of ways he could kill a person. But their complaining to all the fun out it. When he would kill them like that,it was usualy because he couldn't help them, or they irritated him too much.

'I wonder when people will just learn to appreciate things they don't understand... Maybe they will some day. Some of my patients truly understand the good I've done for them. While others... Have not.'

Putting the pencil down,the smiling man calmly removed himself from his desk and walked over to the bag on the floor. There was chain and rope attached to the bag,to make sure they didn't escape. He couldn't have them running away from him before he "fixed" them. And fixing them didn't always require that he kill them,but he usually did. Only because there was no other way to do so. They were far too broken for far too long. And he could only fix so much about them before it was too late. After that point,he would usually just toy with their body as much as he liked before he got tired of them. After that,he would use them for what ever they were worth,and then throw them away. It was a long process,but a fun one that he never wanted to end. When he first started,he was always afraid,and didn't know exactly how to tell his patients or victims what he was doing and why. Eventually though,he found that it wasn't always best to let them see his face and such and such. But as he got better and better at it,he began to enjoy it more. Now,at the ripe age of 27,he can't imagine doing thing else!

The struggling got rougher,and the screaming increased. By this point,he could tell that she was awake,fully.

Time for the introduction.

Using toe,he lightly tapped the head. He got the exact results he was hoping for: Anger. She thrashed more violently and started cursing.

"Who the fuck is out there?! I fucking swear,when I get out of this damn bag,your head will be on the ground before you can say God-" A harsh slash through the air stopped her babbling at once. She shivered at the sound of a whip lying at rest.

His smile widened. The sheer silliness of it all made things so comical,he couldn't help but chuckle quietly.

"So,what got you so quiet?" No answer. While I was looking for silence,I do want her to answer my question. "Well? You had a lot to say just a second ago..."

Using the whip,he lightly trailed the edge of it over the bag. It looked as thought the bag had ants inside it,with all the shaking. He smiled eagerly,he knew from all her small reactions to things like this,she would be a feisty one. They always did make this hard for him,like squirming around and stuff. But what they did have over most people,was that they usually had more things that needed fixing. And that was his job right? To help fix the world...

Author's Note:

Hey,yeah,I know. Don't judge. I ave actually been meaning to write a story away from all the lovey dovey stuff that I usually write. And trust me when I say,I do have a very violent imagination. I can't tell you all the evil,and I do mean evil thoughts I can have in an hour. It's not done yet obviously,and I have to edit it,make it a little longer and all that jazz,but I'm getting there. So for now,peace out and enjoy the school year!