Red hit the grey wall above a pale lifeless mass lying on a scratchy mattress that was so worn that it had springs poking through it. The room was lifeless, nothing moving save for the red flying onto the wall above the unmoving man. The only sound was the sound of people talking.

"They wouldn't mind..."

"Oh no they wouldn't-"

"-Mind at all if you-"

"-Simply killed them."

"It's an easy-"

"-Enough action..."

"Just a quick slice-"

BANG

SLAP

Red hit grey again.

"It's not difficult..."

"Just a-"

"-Quick pull-"

"-Of a trigger…"

The lump, shaped like a ghoulish mannequin, was still warm, still twitching as it laid there on the uncomfortable bed. The sound of a live heart beating filled the room, then abruptly stopped. There was red everywhere in the dim room, dark or bright splotches of that gruesome and violent colour coated the room like macabre paint.

"That wasn't so-"

"-Hard, was-"

"-It?"

This all seemed quite savage until you learn that the red splotches around the room were red bouncy balls; the lifeless, warm, twitching lump on the mattress was a man by the name of George Frederick, or Georgie Porgie. The red hitting the walls? Yet another red bouncy ball that George was throwing at the boring grey walls.

However the voices, those were real. Exactly as you heard them. They told George what to do; usually he could ignore them, the problem came when The King got involved. That's when he couldn't ignore the whispers.

And that's what landed him in this shitty place; all he could hear were the voices, telling him to rob that corner store, steal that lady's purse, kill this person, rape that person. And one day, Georgie Porgie let The King talk him into listening.

But it was The King who did it! George could never do such a thing!

Most people feared The King, but that was good right? Wasn't it Machiavelli who said "It is much safer to be feared than loved."? That was The King's mindset.

George's opinion was different, but he didn't get much of a say in this case. He was under The King's control. The King was a heartless psychopath who could do anything to anyone with absolutely no remorse. George however, was an anxiety and depression riddled man who would do anything to escape the world…

Even if that meant allowing The King to have complete control.

~~~

"Are you-"

"-Scared?"

"Don't be Hon…"

"We won't-"

"-Hurt you…"

"We'd never dream of it…"

"We might do things like-"

"-This…"

Visions of blood danced across his eyes; slivers of silver slitting skin; rain battering against the roof; the screaming wind blended with the blood-curdling screeching of his most recent victim. Red and blue and white flashed outside the window as The King cleaned up his mess, leaving absolutely no trace of himself there. He moved onto the next scene…

"And this…"

The night was still, no storm assaulted the outdoors on that night. It was silent, not even the slightest whistle of the wind; shudder of trees; rustle of leaves. Pathetic fallacy was to play no part in the setting if the scene to come. In fact, the night was calm, not a cloud in sight. The half-moon and all the stars in all the galaxies shone brighter than ever before in the night sky. It was definitely not a night that one would expect to house such an unspeakable event as the one that was about to reveal itself. But now, the curtain rises and there is one final act before the actors bow and exit stage left. But the calm night outside was merely a facade for the pandemonium within. For in that house it would not be calm; a chaotic act was to come on this calm and beautiful night. Beautiful things hide ugly secrets. Inside it was pitch black and silent, only the sound of his heavy breathing and her erratic breathing filled the air. He had already killed this woman's husband, to ensure that he would not be interrupted. He looked down at the woman, a menacing look on his face and a spark of desire in his eyes. She looked up at him with pure fear and unadulterated hatred in her eyes. A loud slap of skin hitting skin echoed through the room as he raised his hand and swung it at her. She hissed at the pain. "Don't you dare look at me-" He demanded. She laughed humorlessly and retorted, "You don't want to look into the eyes of the woman you are about to assault?" She glared at him and spat, "Coward." He grabbed her by the hair flashing the silver-with fresh red stains that the woman's husband had made-he had in his hand, showing her that she had no choice but to listen. By gripping his hand over her mouth, he shushed her when she tried to call out. "Stupid bitch." He spat through clenched teeth. He removed his hand from her mouth once he was sure she was not going to call out. The act had to be silent. Nothing but the soft sounds of his pleasure could be heard by anyone. When he looked down at her, she refused to meet his eye, all defiance chased from her expression. All she felt was pure terror. She was at the hands of a psychopath. He felt no remorse and could whatever he so pleased with her. In the end, The King left her lying in a pool of her husband's, her own blood and his own white pleasure. Oh, he left her alive… Physically. Mentally, he wasn't sure how alive she was anymore…

"Stop! Make it stop!" George pleaded, he needed the visions to stop.

"Let me in then Georgie Porgie…" The King replied.

George gave in, if it made the voices and the visions stop, he would let The King take him away. The King could take away the memories of pain, but he replaced it with more pain. If that was the price George had to pay for the memories to go away, he would pay the price willingingly.

Blue turned to grey.

The King smiled, free at last.

"Welcome back-"

"-My Lord…"

"Would you like to help us?"

"Help us commit a crime?"

The King smirked, oh how he was prepared to cause more havoc and pain.

~~~

The King prowled the halls like a wolf would in the forest. His gaze shifted from side to side, taking note of everything; the patients, the doctors, and especially, the cameras. He chuckled when he thought of the cameras; they wouldn't catch The King. No one could catch The King. Oh no, the cameras would catch Georgie Porgie.

That's the only reason The King was here; Georgie Porgie was an idiot. He was a bumbling fool! Only wanting to do good, never wanting to hurt anyone. Georgie Porgie was so boring. He had no idea what 'fun' was.

The King was a fun loving man. It could be argued that he was disturbed, but who did he care? He loved to have fun! The 'fun' he had included a lot of blood and pain.

"Want to-"

"-See more?"

The voices hissed.

The King smirked. "Always."

"Kill me! Just spare my wife!" The man begged on his knees in front of The King. Red tainted the corners of The King's vision as he stared down the man at his feet. A smirk spread across his face as the man continued to beg for his wife's life, The King loved to hear his victims beg for mercy, but he would never give them the mercy they so hoped for. If they begged for death, he would merely torture them. If they begged for their life, he would kill them. If he gave them mercy, how would he retain his title of the most feared killer? The King giggled. "Oh no you fool! Your wife is dead. It's you who I plan to have fun with good sir!" He stroked the man's head with his index finger, a pout forming on The King's face. "But you didn't want to hear that." He giggled again. "But I can never lie." His face broke out into a manic smile and he kicked the man's stomach. The man on his knees spat at The King's feet. "You bastard!" He growled. The King clenched his jaw. He sank down to the man's face, gripping his face and pulling it towards him. His smile became a dark sneer. "I'll make you regret that." The King shoved the man onto his back, wrapping his hands around his neck. "And it's Master to you." The King spat. "I'm a bastard's son." His hands tightened, then loosened around the man's neck several times over, prolonging the choke hold for a few minutes. The man's face darkened and his eyes became glassy as the life slowly slipped from his grip into his attacker's grip. Once The King had his way with the man, he left him dead on the floor as he did with the man's wife

Ah yes, the murder of The King's parents. The act that finally got him caught and landed them in this hell-hole. The tainted love he and his parents shared.

Why would The King kill the very people who were supposed to protect him and care for him? Well, they did quite to opposite. They abused The King, so The King abused them. They had killed The King's brother, the only one The King cared about. Isn't it ironic that the people who gave him life, were the people that took that life away from him?

Georgie Porgie turned The King into the police the very next day. They ended up in this place. The King wasn't sure how they didn't end up in prison for what he had done, but he wasn't complaining. You could get out of this place, but not out of prison.

Soon enough The King would be out on the street soon enough.

~~~

"Please! Stop!" Georgie Porgie begged The King.

SMACK

"King!"

The King ignored Georgie Porgie as he continued to commit his violent crime.

Red thread trickled down a peach colour creating a knit blanket of brutality.

Cries loud as hail hitting a tin roof filled the room.

The King wreaked havoc to his heart's content; destroying beautiful things; Tearing apart people.

In the end, George was left surrounded by blood that hadn't yet dried, and guilty and bloody hands. The King had long disappeared, leaving only his conscious which never was put to use while he was in control.

After the heinous had been committed, some people from the asylum had come to get him, giving him some pills to get rid of the voices and The King.

As George sat in his room, on the worn out mattress, he wondered if maybe The King was a part of him.

He'd have to stop taking his pills to find that out…

And he did…

And it all happened again…

Once again, George sat wondering if The King was him.

And so the cycle continued.