I saw how she looked at you. The way she laughed at all your stupid jokes. Still she came home with me. I started to feel that she wanted me to be more like you. I didn't want to be like you; I wanted to be better than you. The redeye made me faster, and stronger, and more energetic. I could do anything. I was powerful. The failure I had been was washed away replaced by a hero, invincible, as all good heroes are. For every hero there is a villian and I became that villian too.

"You are nothing but a vicious beast."

Words echoed in my head. As I sweated naked in bed I feared that I was still too cold. My thoughts were speeding up but they did not bring me closer to enlightenment. Even lying next to the woman with an angel's form could not bring me comfort. I didn't dream anymore so I stopped sleeping. While Julia rested I killed. I liked the killing and I liked to keep moving. It was as if the world was speeding up and I needed to race ahead of it. I was still looking for proof of my own worth and I found it in my ability to bring others to their deaths.

I was so many pieces. I wanted someone to put me back together. I screamed but there was no sound and no response. You slowly started to move away from me. Julia became less inviting.

I trusted you. I believed you would save me. I saved you. I carried you back. I was the one who dragged you out of the firefight. Bringing you to Julia brought you closer to me physically, but took you both farther away.

I walked into her apartment and it smelled of sweat and sex. The roses fell to the floor and I grasped the hilt of my katana. My body was moving me toward the bedroom and I was on autopilot. I heard your jagged heavy breath first. Then Julia began to pant like some sort of animal. All the happiness, all the love I ever had died that day.

Opening the door and descending on you was easy. Naked and unarmed, you would have been easy prey, but I didn't care. I wanted to show you how much you hurt me. I flipped you over and cut myself instead. I closed my hand around the blade. I remembered seeing my father push the knife in his stomach. I wanted a knife. I drew the sword across my stomach and then you stopped me.

The van went with the usual solution of the tired parent and seperated us. Sending me to that desert waste. I wanted to go. I identified with Titan. We were both barren, empty.

In that emptyness I embraced the one emotion I had left. Cold hatred. I embraced my cold heart. I am a vicious beast; better vicious beast than incompetent prey.