Jack… was a simple kid when he was a child. He didn’t cry, he didn’t laugh… He almost never spoke unless he was told to, and sometimes not even then. People had thought he was slow for the longest time. It wasn’t until he was four years old that he noticed something was wrong with that. Something wrong with being such a simple kid.

Maybe they were right about him being slow. 

His parents still loved him, and in his own way he cared for them as well. They were his greatest resources, and he would die immediately without them, so he did everything for them. He thought that was all that was required of him, all that they had to give him. It was… disconcerting, when he found out that people’s lives revolved around the concept of emotion. 

And it was annoying, how hard it was for him to understand that concept. 

It wasn’t until he was 9 that his parents had sent him to a doctor to understand what was wrong with him, not until 10 years old that his parents came to terms with the fact their child had the same, scary term latched onto villains that you’d find in horror movies at the theaters. At least, that’s all he thought of the term when he was that age.

A psychopath.

They’d gone to many people after that, every last one telling him the same thing. He was different, he was wrong…

He didn’t understand. 

As long as he felt the necessary emotions, no matter how suppressed or unstable they were, wouldn’t that be fine in its own merit? He felt as if he could live his life normally either way… But no. They wanted to fix him, make him feel better. 

It made Jack feel… as if he was broken. And his parents never acted the same after, only worsening what he now knew was his inferiority complex. They looked at him like they would at the kids on charity commercials on T.V. What he later learned to be empathy mixed with pity. The look made him feel as if they didn’t love him anymore, only cared for him deeply, as he did them.

Needless to say, Jack didn’t like that very much. Hypocritical, but that was also an emotion he had no control over. Since he didn’t like it, he aimed to fix himself. After all, the only one who could know what goes on through his mind had to be him, right? He’d spent years trying his best to feel like the rest, meditation, pain, adrenaline seeking… before he realized that he didn’t need to feel. 

He just needed to act like he did.

Eventually, he learned the ins and outs of human emotions. He learned the ways they worked, how they felt happy when you did certain things, how they felt sad when you neglected them. It was very simple to get his parents to stop believing he was broken, to stop feeding him medications meant to placate him for the moment. No parent wanted anything more than the perfect child, after all.

 He even learned how one fell in love, how easy the switch from acquaintance to lover could come from a single, insignificant event. Despite it he never kept a relationship for long, no matter his efforts. They always found him out despite his attempts to hide it. 

When he’d asked them how they did it the answer had always been the same, funnily enough. He had started acting too hard, acting as if he “was trying not to show he didn’t love them.” The answer had been fairly consistent among them, which frustrated him to no end. He was trying too hard, somehow. How could one act too much in love? Every relationship lasted a bit longer, though. It meant he was getting better at showing emotion, at hiding the lack of emotion he held inside. 

That was good.

Soon, though, it hadn’t been enough to just fake them. He’d see others, those he called friends, talk and meet with each other, act happy, act unafraid of what others would think if they stopped leading this facade. Often he forgot it was because they themselves weren’t faking it. It was when he was 15 when he finally realized just how terrible, just how truly horrific it was, this condition of his.

The first time someone had died in front of him.

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“Where do you guys wanna go? I’m buying.” Jack asked. The others groaned, knowing that ‘I’m buying’ meant that he wanted something from them. They had started catching on to his lack of empathy a while ago, but never to the extent he had a need to be worried. He played it off with a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. “Aw, come on guys, I just thought one of you could help me with some studying. It’s not like you guys don’t need the meal.” He grinned, showing them he cared. 

Almost none of them had a full-ride like him, and they were all too prideful to cry to their parents for money. They weren’t prideful enough to not cry to him, though, so he had made sure to use the money from his part time job to feed the leeches. Someone came up from behind, towering over him. “Dude, we all know you just want to talk to our parents. You little sleaze, don’t try to act like you didn’t flirt with my mom.” He was grabbed by the neck by his friend, Arturo. “I’ll throw you out if you try that again, ya know?” He kept the smile on his face despite the feeling of adrenaline rushing through his head, telling him to back away. The man had good genes. While Jack was a decent 6’ feet the man towered over him by half a head at 6’5. 

Jack turned and looked up.

Arturo. The man had a thick, spanish accent that mixed well with his English, giving him a cool, foreign air around him. That, and his giant muscles had given him the role of the group’s guardian, something the big man seemed to enjoy. Despite the fact that he looked strong, and the thing about his mom being true, Jack knew the big guy wouldn’t hurt him. They’d been friends since the beginning of their years in highschool, after all.

Shifting his face to one of comfort, he removed the hand from his neck and placed his head down on the big man’s shoulder. His eyes sharpened, turned into something just a bit more dangerous. He knew just how much some people liked that sort of thing. “What, worried your mom’s going to take me away from you? Never.” The big man stuttered, taking a step back before pushing him away. “J-jesus, man. Gross.” Jack just smirked. 

He knew Arturo was a bit touchy about this kind of thing, which was the perfect way to get him to fall in line again. “Come on, you two… Let’s stop flirting and get some burgers.” Said the shortest one in the group, Abby. Her glasses were just hanging off her nose as she looked up at them with a deadpan expression. Her hair was down in a bob and only accentuated her young look. That with her height of 4’11 made her look almost like a child. A child didn’t have such judging eyes, though. While Arturo tried to ashamedly tell her it wasn’t like that, Jack slipped away to talk to the two he really wanted to meet. 

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The twins, Charlotte and Elijah.

They were talking to the rest of the group, Mary and Liam. It seemed they hadn’t been listening to him speak, so he had to get up close and personal. He walked up to them and noticed Elijah looking up at him with a happy smile. He looked meek and small, his soft features only accentuated by his blonde hair and blue eyes. His sister was the same, except for the fact that she was maybe a centimeter shorter. 

Once again as he saw them, he was surprised at how much they looked alike, down to the clothes they wore. A pair of beige gray cargo shorts with a rainbow tie dye shirt and various accessories hidden under a green and red hoodie. They looked free and uncaring of the world, which made the gap between them and their parents all the more interesting. 

He wanted to meet their father, one of the few multi-millionaires he knew. All of his friends had some sort of connection in society, which was the main reason they were able to get into such a prestigious university, and the reason he had befriended them. None of them had the amount of power these twins’ dad did, though. Their father owned a large franchise, something that spread through the state of Texas and, according to the sister, would soon make its way past that.

It was something he wanted to be a part of.

He waved at them, and for the first time in a while he felt a rush of emotions in his stomach as the twins waved back. This was big, to make him feel nervous. “Hey, guys. I was wondering if I could go study at your place, beats going back to my rundown apartment. …Maybe I could make a meal, I’m told I’m good at that.” He flashed them both a grin, to which the two showed a flustered expression. 

His smile threatened to turn into a smirk as he saw that. He knew the face he had, the traits. Handsome, mixed with features that could only be described as wolfish and sharp. It was something that had gotten him out of as many situations as it had put him in. If his face was plainer, he’d probably have had an easier time living unnoticed through life.

Though, it definitely wouldn’t have helped him advance to this point, so he worked hard to make himself look handsome. This friend group of his gave him a run for his money, however. 

Liam, the smart bastard, stepped in to stop him from making the kill. “Oh, don’t mind him. That’s Jack. Everyone here knows who he’s really like, and trust me, it isn’t pretty.” Jack laughed, inwardly cursing the, albeit unintentional, ruining of his reputation. He had to remind himself that it was good fun, and not an attack on his character.

“Hah, I always did wonder why you kept me around. Is it because of my face?” He asked, looking coyly at the boy in front of him, with their black hair styled to look like his. Unlike the others, he’d gotten close with Liam rather fast. It was almost unnerving how well the guy had taken after him, sticking by him like a leech and taking most of his traits and mannerisms. Jack almost wished he had that sort of bravery. He was always second guessing his distance with others, unsure of where exactly they were until they up and told him. 

People think of psychopaths as cool and aloof, but that’s only because they were always hesitating, always unsure what to say and do. It was a debilitation he’d grown used to, and sometimes even thrived on. The challenge of getting to know someone, it was frustrating but exciting, especially when the other person was complex. Unfortunately, Liam was frustratingly simple. Simply just a good person. 

The boy in question placed a hand on his shoulder. “Nah, man. We also like how smart you are. Helped us a lot of times when we were failing. So keep studying so we have a reason to keep you around, ok?” Jack punched him in the arm, playfully. A sign to show there was no harm between them and their relationship. He’d learned a while ago that people tended to second guess their relationship with you if you tended not to make any half-hearted reaction to their ‘playing around’. It damaged their reputation as well, which made them enemies with him in worst case scenarios.

Speaking of worst case scenarios, “What about you, Mary? I can’t say you'd like me hanging around for long…” The girl, redhead with freckles dotting her cheeks, turned to him with a snarl. “I was gonna keep quiet while you played with the little ones, you know? Don’t make me tell them what you are.” He chuckled and raised his arms in defeat, pulling back. She was the only person in the group he’d tried dating, and the only one he’d actually tried his best to convince he loved her.

She found out within a month that it was all just a game to him. 

He had made the time to give her all the love she could ask for, and yet she still hated him for merely never feeling anything like love towards her. He had even told her of his condition, which only made her angrier somehow. It was the first time he’d ever told someone other than his family, and considering how well it had gone for him he’d sworn he’d never do it again. She must have felt some sort of sympathy for him, though, since she never actually told the others just how little he really felt. It made her an invaluable person, someone who knew his disability and didn’t think less of him for it…

He still wanted her as his wife, and maybe he’d continue to prove that to her.

His thoughts halted as the feeling in his stomach suddenly worsened. It confused him, and for a second he thought it was a feeling of regret towards losing her, only to realize it was something else as he fell to the ground. It seemed what was happening was an outside force, because suddenly everyone around him also fell to their knees.

The ground underneath them flashed purple, and underneath him dozens of symbols marked the ground, surrounding him and all of his friends. Before he could put enough strength in his feet to jump out of the flashing symbols on the floor the whole world turned bright, and he felt the surreal feeling of his body being torn apart as the world immediately after turned dark.

Only for him to suddenly awaken again, kneeling in the middle of a room. He immediately scanned his surroundings, ignoring the sweat and feeling of complete weakness surrounding his body. Dozens of armored men with spears lined the walls next to him. Each of them had an unnerving aura about them, not moving an inch from their position. 

All around him his friends were in various states of unconsciousness. There was only one person in front of him, a woman with short, curly brown hair in a crown and blue dress who was looking at them with a worried, pitying smile. Her eyes, even though they seemed empathetic, brought a chill to his spine. Pity, guilt, sadness…

This situation was bad, one didn’t need to be a genius to figure that out. 

Why or even how this was happening, though, was beyond him. At least they didn’t seem openly hostile to them, standing with a straight posture as they stared ahead. It was a confident, almost bored look. None of them viewed them as a threat, which in this specific case was very good. This was probably a hostage situation, and as long as the kidnappers were calm they wouldn’t be hurt. 

He ignored the weakness in his body and stood up, swinging back and forth for a moment  before balancing himself on his feet. He really should have learned how to protect himself better. His father had tried teaching him how to fight but he’d never seen a reason to use it in such a peaceful environment. Having too much muscle was a sure-fire way to attract people’s attention, and not in the way he wanted it.

In this situation it at least meant he could take a proper beating. He opened his mouth to speak, the words coming out slurred and slow, but with absolute confidence. “...what are… your demands?” He had to act like an equal, not superior or inferior, but as someone they could make an even exchange with. They’d treat him terribly otherwise. He said this to the girl looking at them with worry, and her face turned to one of surprise. 

She stuttered for a moment, before eventually looking at him with a determined expression. “My name is Annabelle Leitrus, princess of the royal Leitrus family. I ask you kindly… Please save us, Hero.”

He paused. She paused. The room was silent except for the occasional groan of his fallen friends.

His brain just couldn’t comprehend. This was for money or something, right? He just didn’t have the proper understanding of the situation… That’s what he hoped, at least. “...Could you explain?”