Saving A Villain

Clues

BLUE'S POV

If I hear one more person say the fucking words, Mr. Dun, with a fucking question mark following that phrase, I am going to throw someone out the highest window in this building. 

I've been trying to chew down on my murderous feelings for the past twenty minuets and it is not working. 

These ant like people that were swarming in this meeting were killing me. 

Physically. 

And Mentally. 

Then after this I have to go and have lunch with Ira. 

Sickening. 

He scrawny personality was literally giving me back pains. 

After staring at her for an hour while she slept peacefully next to me, I came to the realization that I wanted to squeeze her neck until she screams ended in the sound of her neck snapping. 

I googled 'Is it normal to want to murder your girlfriend brutally'. 

The general census came back with a hard no. 

So there has to be something wrong with me. 

But I know I'm perfect, so then that leaves the blame back on the rest of the world. 

And the strange fits of explosive anger were becoming much too frequent. I mean they felt good to throw objects at my secretaries and verbally demean my employees until they left my office in tears and fear, but something was off. 

I didn't want to yell at them. 

Well, I did, their tears made me smile. 

But I felt like I should have been making someone else sad or hurt, or at least trying to. 

So then I went home and told Ira she looked like a drowned rat that was attacked by a family of dolphins because they had nothing better to do. 

She cried. 

But again, unfulfilling. 

And then I had to do this sickening thing, that gave me stomach cramps. 

A-fucking-pologoze. 

I blamed it on the stress from work. 

I really just wanted to see her cry, but it was ... annoying. 

She cried which was my main goal, but ... I was expecting more from her. 

Anything. 

Like throwing something at me, or telling me to shut the fuck up, you demented lamp post. 

... Something just was not right. 

And then of course brought my anger to a whole new level, where I had to go work out or I was going to strangle someone. 

Yea, something just wasn't right and I couldn't place it, which bothered me. 

Not to mention, Ira demanded I never say such hurtful things to people again, and I had to apologize to my employees. 

It gave me the shits. 

Sick to my stomach. 

"Does that should satisfactory, Mr. Dun?" some straw shaped man who was presenting the information for this meeting croaked out as he looked over at me. 

Fear was clear in his eyes ... and it tasted so good in the air. 

"Say my name one more time, and I'm going to impale you with those sharpies. Finish the meeting". 

I swear that slipped out. 

But weirder part. 

Everyone in the room seemed to ... finally relax. 

Like me failing at being nice to them in the beginning of the meeting, put them on edge. 

I roll my eyes as the straw boy then started to rattle information off about the company and how good we were doing or where we needed to focus. 

I'll play candy crush. 

I slip my hand into my suit pocket, looking for my phone, only to feel paper. 

What in the hell? 

I pull the small piece of paper out of my pocket and slowly unfold it. 

Dear Dented Lamp, 

I slipped this note into your pocket while you were filing your nails in the bathroom for twenty minuets. Bitch. Anyway, we need some shit, milk, batteries, and get me some carrots, while your are out pretending to be anything less than a full on sociopath. Also, when you go to the office, don't let that cute bitch in the main lobby touch you. If I smell the perfume, I will cut you and her, then burn your house down to ashes. Anyway, can you hurry back, I'm in our large ass home- I heard you lock the doors from the outside too, psycho- alone and I'm so bored and I've probably burned something down by now. So bring that tight wearing ass back to me soon. Don't forget my ice cream either, asshole. And not that nasty healthy shit you bought last time. I want the kind that gives people heart attacks. 

Bullets you electrical outlet, 

Your Katty. 

My chest burned. 

Flashes of unruly, curled hair flittered past my eyes, burning with a pain that was centered in my chest. 

Then I was angry. 

Then ... then I was smiling, laughing. 

My ... Katty. 

Where is she? 

I easily got up and walked out the meeting without a backwards glance. No one called me, as I went back to my office and sat down in my office. 

Katty. 

My Katty. 

I ... love her. 

So much, but then where was she?