I raised from the couch again and walked over to the painting table to get a closer look at the criminal who sat on the other side of the room.

I had laid my eyes on him just when he arrived, but there was something inside of me that was so extremely curious around brutally sick and wicked people. Which made me want to approach him and take an even closer look at him.

I sat down on one of the wooden chairs beside a mid-aged woman who was painting surprisingly beautiful on a big white paper.

Sometimes I forgot that the people in the hospital were not all destroyed, some of them were just weaker, and some of them just ended up in here because their different way of being wasn't accepted nor wanted by the society.

It was a sad fact, but unfortunately, it was true.

From where I sat now, I could sight Joseph much better than before. I didn't want to stare, because I was sure that he would notice me in the corner of his eye, and I didn't even want to know what could happen if he did.

I talked to the lady who sat beside me while I carefully moved my gaze up and down to inspect the new inmate.

He still didn't move an inch, he just sat there and stared out the rainy window.

I wondered if he was heavily drugged? Or if he felt threatened by the much bigger guard who stood right next to him?

Suddenly I got interrupted by the door that opened up to the common room, and Brandon stepped inside with confident steps even though Frank was right behind him.

He truly knew how to make an entrance that boy.

I noticed how Brandon didn't see me at first, but the moment he did, he immediately began to walk his way over to the table where I sat with the other patients.

The grin was placed broadly over his face as usual and I couldn't help but smirk at his handsome figure as he walked towards me over the floor.

He sat down at the chair by the corner of the long table and grabbed a piece of paper and a couple of pencils. I grinned as I watched him begin with his work.

"I didn't know you draw?" I said and bit my lip in a flirty way.

"I don't" He responded.

Of course, he only sat here because he wanted to be close to me.

I felt good with the information that Brandon felt safe in my company and chose to hang out with me even in the gathering room. But I was still paranoid about making someone suspicious about us.

Brandon kept his eyes on the paper and drew something that I couldn't solve even with my wildest imaginations, while I continued with my spying of the old man who sat just a couple of feet of a distance from me.

I could see how his chest slowly moved up and down in motions as he breathed and I could notice how his eyelashes flattered every time he blinked, but he still didn't move more than that.

Who was he? What got him to end up here?

At my most curious thoughts, I got interrupted by Brandon's arm that carefully pushed mine to get my attention.

"What are you staring at?" He asked while his eyes got bigger with the question.

"Our new inmate," I said quietly while I discretely nodded my head forward.

Brandon looked in the direction of where the man sat and in just one short second, the whole world stopped and I could feel how I lost my breath.

Brandon's body froze to ice while his eyes turned more black than I had ever seen them before.

His jaw tensed till the veins came through and I could see how hard he bit his teeth together in his mouth.

His fists tied and got white by every knuckle and I could hear his rough heartbeat from my distance.

Everything around us disappeared, the only thing I could scent was the extreme aura of Brandon's and how every one of his emotions affected me.

I couldn't breathe and I almost choked in his proximity now.

The room was completely quiet from all the noise and every other person, including myself, seemed to be enabled to move.

Just like someone just pressed paus to a movie.

I was paralyzed.

I wanted to move, I wanted to embrace Brandon, ask him what was going on, but I couldn't.

Everything seemed to be impossible like someone just casted a curse over me.

The only thing I could move was my eyes. I was fully awake and conscious while the time passed by me in slow motion and I could only mentally stay observant while my body was absolutely numbed in every physical way.

My eyes got interrupted when they noticed the movement of Brandon who was still sitting by my side.

And then, in a rough, discrete move, he grabbed one of the pointy sharped pencils and jumped off his chair to attack the old, bald, man where he so peacefully sat on the couch in front of us.

I watched how Brandon brutally smashed the sharp, pointy tip of the pen right into Joseph's rugous neck.

The perfect hit of the artery vein made the blood squirt out from his neck in the most graphic way.

Joseph slowly fell backwards with his head while the blood covered his white clothes which made them completely red.

The brown couch got darker with color as the blood floated out of Joseph's neck and soaked the fabric with the dark, thick fluid.

Everything passed by quicker than I could blink, but it felt like a moment of hours.

I was completely paralyzed as I witnessed the horror in front of me.

Slowly I began to fade back to reality when the guards grabbed Brandon and beat him down to the floor in another rough way.

My eyes moved from the dead man to the one who was now laying on the floor in the grip of three institutional guards.

A tear started to run down my cheek as I began to regain my physical senses.

I just witnessed how my lover murdered someone, right in front of my eyes.

There was nothing I could do about it, which made me feel so empty yet so horrified.

I fell out of every emotion as I was now completely present with every function, and I began to scream out in tears.

What did he do? Why?

The terrifying screams from the other patients and shocked nurses around me only made the situation worse when I watched the guards lead Brandon out of the room.

He roughly turned his head around and looked at me with big, red eyes.

"Beverly, I had to do it! I had to! Please, I know you'll understand!" His voice was shouting in panic for me, but I couldn't care less about him.

He just killed a man in front of my eyes.

Was this another stupid explanation for his unreliable action of outburst? Why did he have to do it? What did he mean this time?

I couldn't understand a thing.

Everything I had felt for him now disappeared in just a matter of a minute.

I felt so empty, so betrayed and fooled.

He wasn't different. He was just like he was described by the world, a manipulative, dangerous, cold-hearted psycho-killer.

A monster.