Forget
he was evil.Tell me about the way he smiled when he lied, how he spoke in a voice so soft it made the threat underneath it even sharper. The way he never raised his voice, because he didn’t need to. The way he touched the rim of his glass with a single finger, slow and deliberate, as if already calculating the next move. He doesn’t twirl a mustache; he doesn’t cackle. Real monsters don’t have to.