Author's Notes
Before you begin this adventure, I'd like to inform you that this is a collection of short stories pertaining to League of Legends one and only Khada Jhin. As a disclaimer, Khada Jhin belongs to Riot Games and in no way do I take credit for the creation of their character. My stories are entirely fanmade and have no connection to the canon content Riot Games has already designed for Jhin. I do not intend to make any money from writing these stories. All properties belong to Riot Games.
This series will consist of multiple short stories, each depicting the mental instability of a psychopath. My purpose is to convey to the reader how someone with a personality disorder, such as psychopathy, would process information, act, and feel according to their current situation. In no way is this meant to mock, offend, or belittle people with personality disorders. If you have a problem with one of my pieces, please let me know. Constructive criticism is welcome and necessary.
I should also note that I am a passionate writer of mature themes, so this means my works aren't intended for a younger audience. These themes include but are not limited to violence, gore, torture, nudity, depression, drug and alcohol abuse, and cannibalism. If you are uncomfortable with any of the above, I would highly advise avoiding my works. That being said, I will always leave chapter warnings before each piece so if you are uncomfortable with a certain chapter's contents, you may skip it.
If you're still with me, I hope you enjoy my portrayal of Khada Jhin. I thank each and every one of you for your full support!
Insomnia
WARNING: Mentions of 18+ Material and Torture (NSFW)
With a final groan, I anxiously popped another day's worth of sleeping pills. I swallowed them down harshly with a plain glass of water. Notice the water wasn't cold; nor would it ever be. I had recently overheard a conversation between two ladies at the local market discussing healthy eating habits.. er.. drinking habits, I suppose. The way those ladies stared at me, they were probably in love with me. Anyways, cold water is bad for you. Something to do with digestion and fat. I'm not looking to gain weight anytime soon. Now, the water couldn't be too warm either. I figure that if a man like me was ever at the point of drinking a glass of warm water for enjoyment, he should just be making himself a cup of tea. That, or perhaps he has truly lost his marbles.
Gulp.
Minutes pass before I start feeling an almost disturbing amount of exhaustion. Sluggishly, I walk to my large and luscious bedroom; which is, might I add, very expensive and well furnished. Let's just say, the carpet does match the drapes. On the way to my bed, I passed my wooden nightstand which, on top, rested my favourite novel of the night: "Ionian Psycho". Climbing up the mountainous bed and sinking right into it, I get comfortable and open my novel to where I had left off; page 144.
After I had finished masturbating to an overly explicit chapter of a woman being dismembered by a hacksaw, my body became very limp. She was here. Slumber was ready to take me. I figure she signaled my consciousness to turn off as I don't really remember what happened next.
The morning after I awoke with my book on my lap; page 144. I suppose this is where I had left off from the previous night. Needless to say, I'm thrilled to find out what will happen to that innocent woman and that hacksaw. Placing the novel back down on my wooden nightstand, I itch my dry, scratchy throat. I am thirsty. Time for a glass of water. Oh, that reminds me!
Did I ever mention how bad cold water is for you?
