A/N: Hello!

First of all, I did some research on what is a sociopath and what do you know, psychos and socios are pathologically referred to as the « same ». I read an article on the book « Confession of a sociopath: A life spent living in plain sight ». It made me think of an Insert fanfiction. Not this one. lol. A naruto one. If you see what I mean. ^^

So… bad persons, AKA Antagonists in TVD.

Malachaï Parker. Should he be portrayed as a bad person? Because he is « referred » as a sociopath?

A comparison in the article kinds of spin our world around. The book's « sociopath » is compared to a shark. When you are at the beach, you « know » there might be a shark lurking around no? Does it attack you? Does it bother closing in on you? See my point?

Is a shark dangerous? Yes. It can be when it is hungry and you are bleeding in his natural habitat. Oh, and I think they feel/see fear too.

Anyways, I understand that Kaï has been portrayed as a « bad person » in TVD. Really if you know your stuff on personalities and the triangle (persecutor/savior/victim) then there is no such thing as « bad person ».

All this to say that I will try to portray Kaï's « character » as well as I can, « knowing » his old portrayal and his pathological syndrome.

8: words/part of sentences in quotes.

Ch.5: Cracks of the skin

THIRTEEN DAYS AGO

PORTLAND

MALACHAÏ PARKER

The music was roaring. It was the only thing that could fill the silence. Knife in hand I chopped carrots into the boiling water. The thumps made on the cut board synchronized with the beat of the heavy screeching metal. The water bubbles popped adding to the noise. It was bliss. Another day. Day number 5121. May 10 five thousand, one hundred and twenty-one times.

Fifteen years since I have been living inside this prison. It was understandable if I said I had been bored for a while.

I slapped the red meat a couple of times and began gently slicing it on the wooden board. Each thin slice deposited into the sizzling pan I had oiled beforehand. A few splotches attacked my fingers but I paid it no mind. What was some oil going to do to little ol' me? Kill? Ha! Please do.

I upped to music and spun the long shiny knife in the air, grabbing it back swiftly without making a bloody mess. Like, perhaps cutting my hand in the process. I swayed to the beat and twirled joggling the knife. I nodded my head as the guitar strings rang out. Rash and rough. That was music. Not that I liked much. Because the world had been so quiet I had had to lift the mood. As far I knew, I was alone. I had no one to play with, so I had to satisfy my bored soul.

I prepared my plate, placing cooked meat and carrots on it. I sat down to eat. My taste buds prickling to have the home-made meal. Home? What a laugh! I was mad to think this place as home. It had only been a house, crawling with children that were supposedly related to him. I arched an eyebrow at that. Huh. Funny.

« Malachaï, I know it was you. Hey! Malachaï. I know you stole my bunny. Where is it? »

I turned around and I was certain I saw the young silhouette of Joey by the kitchen door. Then I blinked and the mirage was gone. A memory. I could still hear distant yelling. Joey. Josette. Father.

I had been beaten then. All of that because of a false accusation. It was not the first time Father had lifted a hand on me. It had not been the last.

I felt my lips curling into a smile some would see as disturbing. I thought of when the bruises stopped purpling my skin. Unfortunately, it was two days after being trapped here. The cause had been at the time worth it. I could still see all their wide terrified faces. I could trace my steps I took as I hunted every member of my so-called family. The bathroom, a drowned girl- Ana. The yard, a beaten up boy- Joey. The kitchen, a sliced up girl- Lexia. And so on.

It was then. At that moment that I felt it. The power surging across the floor to my feet. My body trembled as shocked by electricity. I stared ahead slightly perturbed. I would never admit it. I looked at my hands. They were red. It was as if I was vacuuming the air for… magic.

Magic?

I tumbled out of the house- not mine, never had been. It was still morning, the sky clear blue. I looked around me. The surging power fluttering in the air to my left. I walked forward, intrigued. When I crossed the neighborhood sign I searched around and spotted the usual car I drove around with.

This was unusual. This was what I needed to stay somewhat sane. My heels jumped on the tarmac. Bubbles sparkled inside my stomach. I looked at it confused. What. The. Heck.

I shook my head and slammed the car door. Rapidly turning it on and pushing on the accelerator peddle. The motor roaring.

Portland was far away now. My not-house a spot in my memory. A smile flickered on my lips. The bubbling never diminishing. I had no patience in trying to figure out what it was. I only knew that something had changed. That was enough to leave everything behind. For now. Perhaps.

°0°0°0°0°0°0°

PRESENT DAY

MYSTIC FALLS

ALICE STONE

« Ready or not here I come. » My older brother sing sang. I was giggling like a lunatic as I was hidden under the bed. I heard his shoes on the wooden tiles. The adrenaline was rising bit by bit. The thumps of his shoes echoed through the halls and to my spot. My hand could feel the wood move at each of his steps and his white sneakers appeared in the doorway. At the beginning of the game, they were clean. Now they were dirty and surprisingly a bat trailed behind him. It too was soiled. Looking at it with more attention. Something weird because even if I was curious it seemed that I was purposely drawn to it. On the head of the wooden baseball stick was a splotch of red. Crimson tainted the tool and my imagination suggested tons of different causes. I frowned. My heartbeat rising till I could only hear it as background music. Something struck me as wrong and a chill ran down my spine as my older brother uttered his next words.

« Jo? Where are you, Jo? Come out, come out, sister »

That voice. I heard before. Jo? Who was that? Not me.

The shoes paused before my eyes a step away from the bed. I held my breath.

Then a hand appeared in my vision and lifted the bed with inhumane force. My eyes widened as I took in the guy in front of me. Who? He seemed angered for a reason. And he screamed at me.

« Where are they? Where are you hiding them Josette? »

Josette?

« Wha… » I tried saying. I was terrified. « William? » I asked. Brother? Where had he gone?

« Where. Are. Them? » The boy slowly enunciated each word. He lifted his bat to his head. And I felt my heart drop. He kicked me in the stomach and I screamed. It hurt. I gripped the area he hit me in and I felt something wet. My fearful eyes seemed to grow even wider as on my hand was blood. My blood.

I shot up from the bed a silent scream on my lips. Sweat trickled down my forehead. My body was trembling like a leaf. I rubbed my face and tried to even out my stuttering breathe.

« Oh my god. oh my god. oh my god. »

That had been a horrifying experience.

It was only a dream. A night terror.

Not real. Not real. Not real. I repeated like a mantra. Trying to calm down.

A dreadful realization seemed to come upon me. I was trapped with a sociopath. He had killed his family. He did not feel and was impulsive.

I had to. I had to. What?

Protect myself.

Okay. Okay. Think. How?

How was I going to protect myself from a murderer?

I could learn how to fight. I had to be stronger.

I knew deep down that I would never be as strong. But I needed to be stronger than right now.

I took a shaky breathe in.

I went downstairs where I had left the Grimoire. The words I wrote inside didn't disappear from one day to another. I wrote down my plan. I had to learn how to run.

I know I looked downright freaky as I huddled in the couch still trembling and writing like an addict in a humongous book. But… I needed to focus on something else.

A way out of this hell. A way out of my night's memories.

Hello, hello! how was it? How was Kaï's portrayal? I tried to fit his characteristics.

Review? to fill the empty jar for the next chapter?