Authors Note: Wow, this story is turning out a lot longer and a lot more angsty than I planed.
I traveled across my world toward the door I was looking for. It lead to a broom closet, only twenty feet from my old job's room. Don't ask me how I knew this, I just did. I always knew what I needed to.
I reached the door and stepped through. I traveled along the corridor of the hospital. Doctors passed me by but didn't notice me. No one did unless I wanted them to.
When I got to Michael's room I slipped under the crack of the door. I can do that to squeeze under small spaces, it's as if I don't exist except to my jobs. A shadow created from their nightmares.
I never understood why there were some people I didn't kill. It was just something I felt like doing. They were always the ones who felt good and excited because of the damage they caused. When I thought about it I realized they were like me. Enjoying the terror they would bring. Maybe it was how I showed my underlying disgust for myself that I hid even from me.
Wow, Michael was worst off then the last time I saw him. Humans, had a word for his look I think it was psycho. The room was bright white with padded walls and no furniture. Michael sat cross-legged in the middle in a stray jacket. His hair reached down to his shoulders, it was jet black and greasy. His eyes were black coals with dark smudges underneath. It didn't look like he was eating and he swayed forward and backward.
"Hello, Michael. Its so nice to see you." I chuckled. He looked up.
"You," he said. I laughed and began to pace slow circles around my job. Then I stopped. I was out of ideas. How was I be out of ways to create terror? I never was. It was in my nature to cause fear and I always did it creatively. How was I out of ideas?
Michael began to laugh hysterically. "What come to kill me? What did I do to you?! Huh, tell me! TELL ME! TELL ME!" He repeated tell me over and over in a high piercing voice.
I could hear feet running in the background. The doctors probably realized Michael was acting up. I shrunk back into the shadows as four people in white rushed in. One was holding a needle. If they were that prepared he must do that a lot. Michael continued to cry out "TELL ME! TELL ME!" Tears were now streaming down his face as the doctors wrestled him to the ground and plunged the syringe into his writhing body.
I slowly slipped back to the closet. I no longer felt like hurting anyone. What was happening to me? I never failed to not enjoy torturing someone like Michael and I certainly never ran out of ideas.
Back in my own world I sunk to the floor. Suddenly, pictures of a young girl flashed across my mind. She was about four with curly golden hair and big bright blue eyes. Then I saw a picture of the same girl in her late twenties. She was wearing a lab coat and appeared to be in a scientific lab. She was helping some man in his fifties. She pushed a button and then... No time to think of myself now I had my next job.