Riley stumbled through still dark hallways and finally ducked into a bathroom somewhere. He nearly fell onto a sink but righted himself, clutching the porcelain with a vice grip. He looked up and into the mirror. Eyes like a wild animal looked back at him. Darting. Livid. Wide. Everything Riley knew about himself, everything he knew about sociopathy, all pointed to a correlation between the two. Until he met Aspen he could not remember caring at all about the emotions, feelings, even lives of others. If he felt anything it was disgust. But now she was tearing him apart. He didn't know what he was anymore. At least when he was a monster he could understand that.
Hands shaking, Riley pulled out the single cigarette he kept and struggled to light it. Just as he got the flame on the lighter going, the bathroom door opened. Riley dropped the cigarette from his mouth into the sink and tucked the lighter away.
Generic Male #1 I should learn his name walked into the bathroom, at first not noticing Riley at the end of the line of sinks. But then his eyes found Riley and a strange smile crept over his face. "You know, Bronwyn just told me an interesting story. She said that you were sleeping on Aspen's shoulder, hand in hand." #1 began walking toward Riley. "Ain't that fuckin' cute. Although, If I remember right, didn't I tell you to um... stay off of her?"
Flashes. Visions. Graphic.
"So I guess you didn't hear me the first time. We better go ahead and make sure you hear me now." #1 suddenly sprinted to Riley, grabbing him around the middle like a football tackle, and slammed his back against the wall just behind them. Riley's head hit the wall and he was dazed. #1 dropped him, put a hand on Riley's shoulder with his left and punched at him with his right. Riley, in a near stupor, dropped down the wall just before the punch connected.
Ringing starting. Flashes of red.
#1's hand hit the wall with a crunching sound and he cried out. #1 took a step back, holding his hand, and Riley slowly stood up, using the wall as support. #1 looked at Riley with the deep rage of humiliation and ran at him, arms swinging.
Flashes.
When #1 was just in front of the sink, Riley stepped to the side and something came up from inside him. He hooked his foot around #1's leading leg, sweeping it out sideways. At the same time, Riley's right palm collided with the side of #1's head. #1 flew sideways, face first into the porcelain of the sink, breaking off a corner of it. A burst of blood splattered over the mirror, a few drops hitting Riley's chest. #1 moaned but didn't get up.
Riley looked at his hands. Then at the mirror. Riley's face was emotionless. A sheet of pressed steel. His eyes were grey, colorless, and dead.
Riley picked his cigarette out the broken sink and put it back in his jacket. He took one last look at #1, and feeling a nothing more black than space, he walked out of the bathroom.
When Aspen sat down and spoke to him in psych, Riley realized that the after he left the bathroom, he hadn't' thought about her at all. He had forgotten her. She slipped away along with every human expressible emotion, leaving only the dead steel that was Riley Stonewright.
It terrified him.
"Aspen," Riley could hear nothing in his voice, "I do not know what I am, or what is wrong with me. But something is." RIley was searching through his entire body, entire mind, entire soul, for some emotion to put into his words so that she would know that he still wants her. But all of his efforts came up short. Riley sounded as lifeless as he looked in the mirror that morning. "If I was misdiagnosed, fine. But if it isn't sociopathy, it is something else."