Warning: This story will have acts of harsh violence. If this makes you uncomforable then please do not read any further.
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Haiden was an average boy with an average life. He had good friends, he was never bullied, his parents loved him, and he was fairly good in school. In his eyes, his life was perfect.
So then, when he started having strange feelings and thoughts come out of nowhere, it didn’t make sense. And no, they weren't feelings of depression, anxiety, or even self doubt. They were thoughts of harming people. Innocent people, that had never done a thing wrong in their lives.
At first, it started out small, nothing more than imagining playfully pushing his friend into a wall to see their reaction. But as they days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, the thoughts and images only grew more violent and malicious.
The playful thoughts turned into grizzly images of him bashing heads in with his bat, stealing children from their parents in the night to hear then cry and scream, forcing his friends to stay awake and watch as he slowly cut them open and dissected their organs, only to lazily shove them back in and stitch their skin back to hold it all in.
Although these thoughts were present, Haiden wasn't scared of them and was never too bothered by them, after all, he would never commit to these horrible crimes; he could never bring himself to bring harm to another person in such a violent way.
For the most part, Haiden was able to keep these thoughts at bay while he was at school and around his family, not wanting his friends or family to know the darkness that filled his mind. When he was mad, or upset at something or someone, he let the gate open, and allowed the possibilities to break loose, but only when he was alone. He felt strange comfort in these thoughts; they gave him a sense of knowing that he had power even in his weakest times.
This comfort told him that being the “Nice guy” was a hard job, and that everyone was lucky that he had such strength to keep such thoughts as they are; never putting them into action. And from that point on, Haiden would always allow these thoughts to shine when he was in a hard time at the end of his day, he had his own personal haven to escape to, one filled with blood and screams of young and old.
One day particularly hard day at school, while he was doing his work, he was trying to hold it all together until he had gotten home but, as if the gate keeping the thoughts hidden away broke; suddenly his mind went blank as the thoughts flooded out and quickly swarmed his mind like dark clouds on a sunny day.
Thoughts of him getting up and locking the doors before taking the pencil in his hand and stabbing the closest student to him, stabbing their eye until it spilled out of their socket like soup. He thought about picking up a chair and slamming it into students, watching as they fell in pain before he bashed their skulls in, watching their smelly and thick blood spatter on the floor and his face.
Haiden thought about grabbing the teachers' scissors and using them to stab holes upon holes into the teachers stomach, arms, legs, and chest. He wanted to open the windows and the emergency rope to hang them, watching the life slowly fade from their bug eyes as they struggle to breath or to get down. He then thought about using the scissors to cut each body open and paint the walls with sticky crimson, not sparing a single square meter.
As this thought took over Haidens calm and gentle mind, he seemed to forget for a moment that he was in the middle of class, as well as forgetting how silent the room really was. All it took was a gentle chuckle for the teacher and a few students to raise their heads, looking at him in slight confusion.
“Is there something funny, Haiden?” His teacher asked with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, giving the boy a smile. As if something in his mind snapped, Haiden quickly stood up from his chair, his head and eyes looking down to his desk.
“May I use the restroom?” Haiden asked in a low and whispery voice
“Yes, of course you can.” The teacher answered in a surprised tone, watching as he slowly walked toward the classroom door. Once there, Haiden reached out to the doorknob, his pencil held tightly in his hand before it suddenly hit him what he was about to do. He let out a soft sigh of discomfort before turning around and sitting back in his desk.
“Haiden, are you alright?” The teacher asked with concern dripping from her words.
“Yes ma’am, I'm just fine. I’m sorry to have worried you.” Haiden told her before going back to his worksheet.
Haiden let out a silent sigh, he had never lied to his teacher before. But then, a different thought came to mind. What he told wasn't a lie, he was perfectly fine. His mind was clear, just like that, the thoughts were back in the gate, safe and away from harm; just like his class.
Haiden smiled to himself at his, thankful for his haven. Because without it, he would surely go mad.
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