A child born from the very essence of Epiphyllum, he is a saint, or so you believed.

His apathetic nature disguised the twisted satisfaction he felt as he watched the drowning cat in the water-filled basket. With a firm grip on the back of the cat's neck, his soft giggles betrayed the cruel amusement he derived from the animal's suffering. Eugene, consumed by his selfishness, the cat's fate was a consequence of daring to steal your attention, finding pleasure in the very act of tormenting the innocent creature.

Your horror was palpable as you stood frozen at the doorway, witnessing the disturbing scene. As Eugene's attention turned to you, startled, his apathetic expression suddenly shifted into one of innocence and sympathy. With feigned concern, he explained, "I was trying to help him, but it was too late..." As he spoke, his voice trembled slightly, attempting to conceal his monstrous actions behind a facade of regret.