Most people said he was cold and cruel. They called him Vicious. He liked that name, it was most fitting. However, he didn't think himself different than other men; he simply used different methods to achieve his goals. They said he was brutal, and perhaps he could be, but everything he did was to get ahead in life. If you were a sentimental fool, life would devour you. He had learned from an early age that love was a simpleton's dream and the world was a harsh place. Life was not merciful, so why should he show mercy?
You had to look out for yourself.
But she had been different. She was beautiful with her long, blond hair and blue eyes. She had a soft face, but her eyes were cold… withdrawn. He liked that too. He could see a little of himself in her eyes. She understood the way the world worked, just like he did. It was this mutual understanding that had attracted him to her in the first place. She had stirred something inside him; something more than just lust, though there had definitely been sexual attraction between them. It wasn't love, no. It was… a sense of calm. The recess of his mind was like a savage jungle, but when she was with him, all was calm. She was light in darkness. He did not love her, but—loath as he was to admit it—he enjoyed her company. A lot.
Contrary to popular belief, he did have a heart. A tiny heart, to be sure, ripped asunder by the hand life had dealt him, but a heart nonetheless. Somewhere deep down inside, in the emptiest, most obscure places of his heart, he had wanted someone to care about him. He was only human after all. It shamed him and so nobody could know of his weakness. The snake would rather die than expose its soft underbelly. He would take his secret to the grave.
But she knew. She knew about the chink in his iron armor. She had held him close at night when he'd been vulnerable. She had cradled his head against her bare breasts as they lay in bed and she sang to him. She'd kissed his lips when she thought he was sleeping. She knew that he had not been completely lost to darkness. Not yet…
And then there was him.
The man who he had considered his equal; a man he respected. They were the same… two beasts thirsty for blood, aiming for the same goals. It was comforting to know that there was one other sharing his ambitions. He had been… his friend. Together, they had become unstoppable… the pride and joy of the Red Dragon syndicate.
He had allowed two people inside the wall of his inner defenses… just two people.
And they betrayed him.
His friend had lost his will to fight. He no longer thirsted for blood and the siren of the golden hair had stopped singing.
The angel of light, his angel of light, had lain with the beast that had lost its fangs. He could smell him on her skin.
Still, he had waited patiently for either of them to come forward and speak. They never did. He received yet another blow when he found out that not only was that traitor planning on leaving the Red Dragons, he was taking someone else with him. They were going to abandon him.
The fangless beast was going to take the light away and he simply could not let that happen. He needed the light to save himself.
And so he gave her a choice. Kill or be killed.
She chose to save the beast. His mind clouded with rage at the memory.
When she disappeared so did his heart and, whatever humanity had been left in him, was dead. There was nothing but shadows in his soul now; revenge took the place of his heart.
Life had once again proved that the world was a cruel place. Cruel and cold like him. There was nobody you could trust. There was no loyalty… nothing to believe in. The world was what one chose to make it. And he was going to paint his world scarlet with their blood.
