Who would have thought. Such a well-made disguise, such a pretty face. This psychopathy became problematic over time. It was a combination of madness, an idiotic family, idiotic classmates, idiotic people. All of that led Viktor to do what he now considers a hobby, killing people for fun. How come no one ever realized that those same people who treated the waiter badly were found dead a few days later? The waiter is innocent, I mean, look at his face, he definitely doesn't look like a serial killer... Viktor thanked him for the compliment, and for the fact that his pretty face didn't give away the monster he was.

His work as a waiter led him to meet many people, among them, someone who stood out in Viktor's eyes, a handsome man, who always ordered the same drink and had the same conversations.

"You look like a silly psychopath." ... Innocent, right? But it was enough to make Viktor want to break the glass over his head. He was always... so direct. This honesty in his words drove Viktor to the extreme when, for the first time, Viktor tried to put an end to him.

Let's just say it didn't go exactly as planned. Viktor didn't expect that the person who made him the most angry was actually immortal, and apparently didn't feel pain. What the fuck?

"Don't you get tired of drinking?" The bartender asked himself, casually wiping the counter once more, placing another glass of beer near his hand. 'Did this man get cheated on or something? There's no way this idiot would just drive to a bar and drink 42 glasses of beer out of sheer thirst.' He shakes his head, pushing the thoughts away. Focusing more on how the man in front of him drank the beer like it was water... Advantages of having a high tolerance for alcohol. But it wasn't like this man was so sober, he was talking a lot of shit. Did Viktor give a shit about that? No. But he was afraid that somehow Nik would start talking about how the innocent and kind bartender in front of him had stabbed him. Viktor's coworkers asked him why he hadn't left, his shift had ended more than 20 minutes ago. Why, they asked? Because Viktor wasn't crazy enough to leave him alone in that bar after he'd had 42 beers.

What the hell. If Viktor had known he was going to end up in this situation he would have left him passed out in that shitty bar. But there they were, him lying on the floor of his house, with a fucking knife in his stomach, and Viktor on top of his lap, his hands slightly shaking as he held the knife. "You like that, don't you? You damn masochist."