***This is my first rodeo.. it's nothing really, just wanted to get it down to have a basis of all the things I will be scribbling down in the future.***

He was a monster. A murderer. Filthy and vile, destined to be alone and miserable. His harsh tone and lack of concern for authority, opinions, anything were only further solidification of his inevitable fate. Why should he care who he pisses off when he knows there's nothing promising in his future? No white picket fences. No cookie cutter family. No happiness.. or so he had convinced himself. For someone who prided himself in not having a soul, a heart, or anything to personify himself, he recently found himself in quite the pickle.

Years, nay decades, of convincing himself he didn't need anything to make himself happy, he could be fine on his own, completely shattered in the course of an afternoon. Many people had come and gone in the years, but no one had captivated him this way. Not even in the longest duration of one's stay, but somehow on the first day, a glimse of a child for all intensive purposes, had grabbed him. Harder than he'd ever grabbed someone's throat. Quicker than he'd ever snapped someone's neck. Faster than he'd ever flown off the deep end in his fit of rage.

It was much like the elephant, a big, intimidating, beautiful but dangerous creature who was scared of a mouse. A petite, precious, harmless, dainty mouse who had no way of harming the massive elephant, but yet terrified him and sent the large beast running. He wouldn't run, he couldn't even if he wanted to, he was stuck where he was. She was his mouse, however, from day one - his kryptonite. In comparison, he validated he wasn't as big of a wimp as Superman, after all kryptonite came in rock form and who is afraid of a rock? His vice was human. Living, breathing, mobile and capable of anything. Granted she was a buck twenty soaking wet, as muscular as your typical 5th grader, and completely incapable of causing him any harm. Still, you fear the unknown, and there was so much to learn about his kryptonite.

"Do you want to listen to Morrissey? He's cool. And he's pissy, and he hates everyone and everything."

By first impressions, Violet really had nothing exceptionally special to jump out and grab him. She seemed to be the typical angsty teenager, trying to dress 'different' to seem as if she didn't care but in doing so she went out of her way to appear interesting which automatically shot down her nonchalant attitude because deep down she really did care what people thought about her. She wanted attention despite her numerous claims of hating being the center of attention, why else would she cut her wrists, there were a million other places to self mutilate that didn't scream for attention. She was your a-typical scenester, listening to 'edgy' music, reading 'unique' literature, smoking cigarettes even though she rarely inhaled the smoke. By all rights, she should have been as appealing to him as Constance's mutts.

There was something more, however, and that is what grabbed him at the first sight of this girl. She might have been cliche, but she was more than that, more than the clothes his grandmother wouldn't have been caught dead wearing. More than the playlist on her ipod that mirrored 46% of her demographics. More than quick wit and sassy sarcasm she threw up as a defense mechanism to avoid getting close to people. That was something he could empathize with, and the fact he was actually trying to relate to someone that wasn't in the encyclopedia of serial killers was unsettling.

Flipping through Violet's anime collection as he shuffled his way through her ipod selections with one pod in his ear, the other one hanging loosely to allow one ear free to hear any movements to alert him of someone's arrival, all he could think about was how ungirly his muse had seemed.

She didn't smell sweet, but it was an amazing scent that was uniquely her. The way she dressed wasn't seductive in anyway whatsoever, perhaps that was why he took every chance he would to touch her when he popped out of no where to be around her. His hand over her soft lips, her petite frame smashed between a hard rail and his solid body, fingertips on her soft forearm only randomly interrupted by thin scars, his large awkward hands clenching her dainty wrists. For being so uniform in so many ways, Violet really was unique in all the ways that mattered to him.

Quickly pulling the one bud out of his ear to listen more attentively, he rose to his feet quietly, hurriedly placing the girl's ipod and things back where he got them from. It was a false alarm, but he'd already grown bored of listening to the music she had despite it being decent. He wanted to know more about Violet without having to ask, and while he had the free range of her room while she slept, snooping through her things made it a little difficult when the girl was such a light sleeper. Either way, he'd much rather stare at her while she was there than look through her drawers.

Pocketing a pair of boring underwear before moving to her closet, he couldn't help but feel annoyed by how unrevealing her room was. Where was your token teenage diary full of whiny pages full of 'why doesn't he like me', 'she called me ugly', 'life is just too hard'. Granted, he wouldn't expect Vi's journal to contain any of that nonsense, but it would have been helpful in this case. Retiring to her bed, he flopped down, giving up on the search for some secret holy grail that would be the answer to all the questions he had, and didn't know he had. Staring at the ceiling as he laid there, it didn't take long before the boy was on his stomach, face lost in the young girl's pillow. No wonder she slept so well, he thought, her bed was ridiculously comfortable. It'd been a while since he slept.. but that was neither here nor there. Breathing in deeply, he smirked against the pillow case as he smelled his kryptonite's scent. In no time his mind drifted else where.

Soft touches, light and playful shoves, all too short but by all means perfect kisses.

Violet tasted different than he'd thought, although it would make perfect sense that his dream girl who smoked constantly would have an ash tray after taste on her lips. Being the idealist, he however assumed her perfect lips hid some magic cherry sweetness and her tongue was just as delicious. Never the less, he would kill to have his mouth pressed against hers for an eternity. Why not? He's killed for much less.

For as purely volatile as he really was, for as terrifying as he could be, somehow when he was around or thinking about Violet, it was like a switch was turned on and suddenly he was capable of being more than just a scary monster. Did he miss the memo? Weren't all monsters supposed to be awful and only that? This was real life, not Monsters Inc. The beasts inside him weren't fluffy and inviting even in their most nightmare evoking state. This switch, however, made it possible.. Violet made it possible.

"I'm human and I need to be loved - just like everybody else does."

While he punched the mattress, cursing the young girl's music for getting stuck in his head, the words stopped him in his tracks. Lifting his head to rest his chin on the pillow, he quietly stared at the wall as he thought about them. He was human once. Why didn't he deserve love like the rest of them? He'd spent too many days avoiding the things that made him happy in hopes that he could evade them, and thus save them from the destruction that seemed to follow him like a lost puppy. She was in the house now though, and therefore a victim of all it's horror. It was only a matter of time before it turned on her, so why not partake in some happiness he didn't know he was capable of before his bad mojo rubbed off on her. She would die, whether it be by the house or his hand, and while he wanted to be the last thing to hurt her, he had no problem indulging since her doom was lurking already.

Flipping back over, he quickly sat up as he heard light footsteps running up the stairs - his cue to leave. For now.