He pissed you off, if you were telling the truth. You were knew on the stretched out team of Serial Murderers all serving some sort of master that had picked you off of your feet and shown you a new light on humanity, and all he asked in return was loyalty in exchange for immortality and freedom.

At the time? It sounded great to a not so sane person like yourself. You were wrong. And now you were stuck on endless tiring missions that made your feet hurt, and were forced to always be on the move.

Currently you and a few other members of this Unfortunate Souls group had been moved by your master to Portland, in Oregon. This group concurred of Masky, also known as Tim, who was a notorious prick and just annoying, as well as a nasty chain smoker. His white plain mask wasn’t unsettling. He looked stupid. Then There was Kate— not much was needed to be said about her, she was….. creepy to you. Hoodie would have been there but he and Masky never got along. And the Master was not pleased with them. Then, last but not least, there was Toby.

Toby, or a nick name that Masky gave him, Ticci Toby, was cold and very sarcastic. He didn’t feel pain, his constant twitching and sounds was just plain stupid. He was sadistic, and almost worst then Masky. The only plus about Toby was that he didn’t care to interact with you or touch you, unless he was trying to harm you greatly. He could try to kill you, but it wouldn’t work anyways.

Currently you and Toby were squatting with Masky and Kate in this rich persons house, whom you had killed. Not that anyone cared to give you credit for giving them a nice place to sleep at night.

Masky was on the outside porch chain smoking, Kate was god knows where, you were in the kitchen, and Toby was raiding the fully stocked fridge. You moved ever so slightly near him, and he he let out an irritated ‘tic’ before he turned and looked at you.

“Have you ever heard of personal space?”

He snapped— the kitchen was big. You were five feet away from him.