How To Be A Monster: A Narrative Fiction

“I saw him hopping from one window to one window, that pallid face, the hollow eyes that made your heart shrinking, and the blood… the blood…,” Robert's breathed heavily under his beard, so close to Trey's head till he felt as if he could taste the real acid in the blood.
“The blood… It’s dripping down his cheek as if it has been there long ago, and it can’t be wiped away.” He pointed the tip of the sharp knife to Trey's eyes, pushed it an inch closer and closer.
“So you saw him too,” said Trey, panting hard, half relieved, half terrified. For months, he had doubted himself and thought that the prescribed medicine had caused some hallucination, made him see something that didn’t exist. But he knew now the cold face smeared with blood at

We burn our soul to feed it,” Trey choked. Robert’s knife had already slit his cheek, about to tear it at any time. “But the man, the ghost-like monster, who stared through your window, it’s not me.”
Trey's hand steadily moved to the Robert's forearm, “I may be a monster, and I’m always in doubt whether restraining the monster in me would ever bring me any good. But if I have to become your worthy nightmare, it’ll never be like the thing you've just whined

He detached himself from Trey's body, hauling himself up. With his strong hand, he reached for Trey's hand and helped him to stand on his feet, “Now we need to assure the staff that we've been playing all along.”
With a swift moved he turned and sauntered casually toward the staff who's holding an electric teaser, “We’re fine. I thought we might have something to talk before he leaves this place.” Robert shoved the painting palette to the staff.
His Mom who hadn't recovered from the shocked, wrapped her hand around his back, “That man should be locked in the insane asylum instead of being allowed to stay in this mental health institution.”
“He’s Robert Phoenix,” said Trey, avoiding the topic that this facility also treated the severely crazy ill people.
“Phoenix, like the Phoenix.co. The food processing company,” said Mom, raising her eyebrows.
“Yes, that Phoenix. The company that’s about to acquire the Braft Food Inc. to strengthen their beverage market leading position.”
“Oh My God, Helga Phoenix. She’s our VIP customer who often uses our terrace conference center as her business meeting venue. Poor Helga, she has never mentioned anything about a brother, especially this one particular lunatic,” said Mom, her eyes were still following Robert, which tall and solid figured subsided into the