I'm not a sociopath.

"Anna!" he greeted her like an old friend, sliding his hand on the metal fence separating them. He leaned over the plants and folded his hands before him. "How was sleep?"

His feet took him to the small cafe that illuminated the wet street with its luminescent yellow, green, and pink lights. Maybe he’ll kick back and have a burger and coffee as he began his process of attack. The first part is already done. 

   ❝ no need to fret blondie !!!i mean        there’s no fun if there’s no risk! but,        if you’re too afraid of the possibility        of having to be stuck in an institution        again then i’ll be the cleaning lady.❞ 

"That's tempting.. I might have to say yes. If we get caught though, you'll be stuck in the institution, not me. Just a warning."

   ❝ whaaat??? hey! there’s never        enough blood on anyone’s hands.       especially on mine !!! c’mon, how       about we add one more drop of       blood on each others? just one.❞ 

"Trust me, I want to. But, I can't risk almost being put into an institution again. I just got my freedom. Isn't there any other way than killing?" 

The name escaped his mouth as slowly as the tide would go back to the ocean. It was taunting and he managed to begin walking back down the street to head down his apartment. His target, he found it and he was going to mess with its mangled thoughts and hopeful mind. So, threats? They barely phased him.

When she reached her hotel room, the slender girl locked the door with the deadbolt and put a chair under the knob. After checking that all the windows were locked and there was no possible way for someone to silently sneak into her room, she went straight to bed. She decided that she'd definitely had enough of the city for one week, and she would be getting the hell out of there the next day.

         “ Me? Oh, uh, ‘m here            ’bout the  i n t e r n e t. ”

"...What about it?"

His long arms crossed over his chest, both of his hands were in a relatively clenched form, but not too much pressure to turn his knuckles white. “Accomplish,” he repeated, “Well, answer me this. What’re you trying to accomplish here. First you lash out on almost no one and start acting really…suspicous. Like you’ve killed a man. What’re your deal?” his voice was chill just as if nothing was wrong.

"This is bullshit. My deal is you! Leave me alone. Got it, douchebag?" she hissed, "I tried to leave, and you started circling me. This time, stay back. I have a knife on me, and I won't hesitate to shove it right up your ass. Self defense doesn't get you thrown in jail. Harassment does, though, which is exactly what you're doing." With that, she started walking away from him again. Anna didn't actually have a knife, but she hoped he would believe she did.

"I’m having a bit of a bad day. Make it quick, insect."

She tries to be offended, but can't help the grin forming on her lips. "Did you just call me an insect?"

 ❝ why don’t we kill ‘em all ???❞ 

"Don't get me wrong, that sounds like a terrific idea.. but, that's the easy way out. Besides, I already have enough blood on my hands. I assume the same goes for you?"

"I wish you would stop assuming so much," he spoke like he was annoyed, but with a side of "matter of fact". His vulture-like circling soon came to an end when his colored silhouette was standing in front of her. "Never have I stalked anyone," he lied, playfully. "You must be little Miss Paranoid! Or you did something wrong and you’re paranoid that you’ll get caught."

As the blonde came out of the shadows and began circling her, Anna mentally cursed herself for not bringing some sort of a weapon with her from the hotel room. Panic rose in her throat, but she easily kept her face emotionless, though her eyes did widen a bit. "And I wish you would get away from me. I've done nothing wrong. Nothing you can prove, at least. If you're not stalking me, then why don't you just leave me the hell alone?" she demanded, crossing her arms. "I'm not interested in whatever it is you're trying to accomplish."

"I think you’re yelling at the wrong person, darling," his hand went into his pocket. It played around with the crinkled edges of his two week old pack of cigarettes. His rough fingers yearned for one, but he was holding himself back, but not much help of his fingers. 

Anna didn't bother with trying to act like she knew exactly where he was, but her eyes landed where she could tell his voice was coming from. "I'm not wrong though, am I? Your creaky jacket and those giant boots haven't concealed you very well. I know you're there, and I know you've been following me. What's your deal? Just leave me alone, I have nothing for you to take." Now, that was a lie, but she didn't care. The seventeen year old didn't wear very rich looking clothing, so why did this guy insist on keeping an eye on her. "Did John send you? If he did, tell him I already apologized. Okay, I did what I had to do, and he needs to move on from that. I even thanked him. So, like I said, fuck off." She turns back around, hoping the man hidden in the shadows will follow her advice. "I'd hate to have to kill again." Another lie, but she wouldn't be great in jail, so it's somewhat true.