<Andreil Oneshots>

<3> The Mosters Feel Too

It was easy to forget that Andrew wore the mask of a monster which hid the soul of a casualty. He looked like the arsonist but in reality, just living in the building which burned. He was the hunted who had become the hunter.

It seemed people forgot that even the fiercest animals fell victim the bullet of a poacher. It seemed people forgot Andrew was human too.

Andrew was an fire and an ocean in one. He was a flame set by a reckless individual who still cried when the heat touched them. He was a sea so polluted it had begun to die; yet blamed and cursed for all the people who fell victim to its waves and depths.

Abandoned. Abused. Raped. Unwanted child.

Murderer. Psycho. Criminal. Apathetic freak.

People will forget the first story when they read the second. They'll see a cruel man who has done cruel things and not bother to read into the cause. They look at Andrew and see someone not worth caring for and he will look around him and see a world not worth living for.

He'll paint his skin crimson and breath in smoke in lieu of air. Hurt those who have wronged him and won't bat an eye at their tears, (because since when did they ever pay for doing something wrong to him?) He began to let himself be the monster he was masked as and didn't care to cry when people treated him as such. Out-monstered his monsters so he wouldn't be quietly devoured.

He forgot the scared, naive child he once lived as and grew into a man that could rival the ones who once stood over him. He forgot what it was like to love and be loved and saw life as something to hate and be hated by.

It was a shock and a half to find a person so equally broken. A person who understood his trauma and held the other hand of death like himself. An even bigger shock to find himself beginning to fall and a slap across the face to find them falling back.

———

1.
"That has to be cheating!" Neil cried as Matt killed him once more, his half of the split screened TV in front of him showing in big, bold, red words: 'WASTED'

"Nope! All perfectly legal Josten! Not my fault you suck!" Matt cackled as he yet again destroyed Neil's character and their pathetic attempt to do the same to him. His dark coils bouncing as he shook with laughter. Around them, the rest of the foxes — minus Andrew — stood in various places in the room; all being equally as loud as the first two.

"Go easy on me! Show mercy! I've never played before!" Neil yelled in complaint, violently smashing the controller in his hands in hopes of a positive outcome, "HOW DO YOU JUMP?!"

As Neil shouted and carried on and the rest of the foxes laughed in various ways and states of amusement the door behind them clicked open. No one really batted an eye over as Andrew slouched in, walking over to join them and taking the scene in. He hid his amusement behind his carefully crafted exterior as he watched Neil's fighter being, once again, impaled by Matt's own fighters sword.

"You suck," he said dryly and albeit cruelly although erupting a few more cackles from the surrounding party.

"He's trying his best Andrew, give him the benefit of the doubt," Renee, bless her, smiled kindly at the male in question. "Try harder," was his response as Neil whined.

"Andrew, help!" Neil shouted trying to fend to his virtual opponent.

"No."

"ANDREW!" The goalie sighed in reply and walked around the couch to stand in front of Neil, who thrusted his auburn adorned head around his short figure to see the screen better and called out again, "blocking the vEIW ISN'T HELPING!"