Split Personality

Noah did not cry.

He did not beg.

He did not even flinch.

Instead, a sound slipped past his lips—soft at first, almost inaudible. A dry, scratchy exhale.

Then—

"Kek."

My nonexistent form trembled.

This sound, I knew this sound..as well as what followed it.

"Kek… kek."

There it was, growing, bubbling up from deep within him, an eerie, breathless rasp that sent a slow, crawling chill through my very soul.

This was the laugh only the most psychotic ones gave. And even in my whole life, I had barely heard it twice.

It was the sound of a truly broken person.

A villain in the making.

I had broken many before. Had watched men fall to their knees, and had felt their bodies shiver in horror as the weight of my words crushed them beneath my heel.

This was not that.

This was worse.

"Khek—"