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He dislikes the subway.

Other than his other valid reason to have disdain for trains, the subway is dark, it's shady and he's sure he's seen rodents fight to the death here on several occasions.

Still, he's following you down the stairs of the station, watching as you whistle along to the song blasting through your headphones. There's a backpack swung over your shoulders, hands stuffed into the pocket of your hoodie and converse doing a skip every now and then. There's a bandana that's tied across your face, acting as a mask to hide your identity.

He realises that you're dressed like a commuter. Were you going to dress the part every single time?

You walk along with the crowd. He follows, a few feet away.

Until you stop. He abruptly stops too, leading someone to walk right into him.

"Watch it, dumbass," they hiss with the courage of someone who has no idea who he is. He ignores them.

He looks on as you dig around your backpack and pull out a roll of paper. A poster, he realises soon when you peel off a layer from the back and press it to the wall.

Was it legal to put up posters in the subway? He wasn't quite sure.

He observes as you turn around and continue down the path. He waits a few seconds before trailing up to the poster.

Volunteers needed!

If you're interested in being turned into a ghost for a couple of hours, this is your chance! Should be okay with being on camera so that we can make money off of taped paranormal sightings.

Paid opportunity. You get to pick your outfit. Randos don't apply.

He yanks the poster of the wall before continuing down the same place you did.

He finds another poster along the way. He doesn't hesitate in pulling it down. You were advocating to kill people.

He knows he's going in the right direction because more posters creep up along the wall.

The both of you are on the platform by now but to him, something changes about the placement of the posters. They were growing in frequency, the distance between them decreasing as they were situated close to each other.

He pauses in front of the next one, hand hovering over the paper.

All it reads is 'STOP'.

He furrows his eyebrow, pulling it down before peering over at the next one.

'TAKING', is all that it says.

It doesn't take him very long to make his way through all the posters in the hallway.

'THESE'

'DOWN'

The train's arrived by now but a quick scan over the crowd and he knows that you haven't entered. That, and he knew that you were too dramatic to leave without a trace or a small conversation with him.

'DICKHEAD'

Tasteful, he thinks.

"It took effort to make them, stop ruining it," you whine from the end of the hallway. It's empty, given that rush hour was over a while ago.

Even though the mask covers half your face, it's obvious that there is mischief etched under it. The twinkle in your eye is telling.

"You're literally killing people." He holds up the poster. Not the 'dickhead' one. He pockets that for later.

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