Destruction. Beautiful destruction. Beautiful, sinister destruction.
"You're my good boy." The lie she embedded into my mind since puppyhood. It leaves a bad taste on my tongue, and makes a deep, menacing growl erupt from my throat. Death. That's what she deserves. Then, we shall see how much of a "good boy" I am.
Walking through the smoldering remains of my prison, my home for the first five years of my life, Sovereign Entertainment, I allow a bitter smile to grace my features. The sweet laugh of a girl seems to echo in the burning corridors, the remains of memories I tried to suppress.
I now find myself in front of the ruins of my trailer. A rafter had fallen in the fire, crushing it. Pictures, or more accurately; the burnt remains of pictures, litter the floor. I whine with interest, and carefully tread forward.
Each and every photograph is another documentation of my corruption. I glance at each, wondering if this is how people feel when they, as Mittens put it, 'window shop'.
Penny. I thought she loved me. Yet, she was just like them. Cruel, heartless, hiding under a mask. Everything she told me was a lie. She didn't love me. I wasn't...
I wasn't her good boy.
I wasn't her good boy!
"Wags," a familiar voice said.
"I wasn't her good boy," I said, emotionless.
"What?" Rhino, my hamster companion, questioned, bemused.
"I wasn't her good boy!" I snapped, turning to face the brown hamster. I could feel the insanity in my eyes. Fire replaced my blood. Voice practically a scream, I said, "I was never her good boy!"
Rhino seemed shocked. He whispered, "What...?"
"I was never Penny's good boy!" I howled to the ceiling, and then left that burning studio of deception and lies.