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Challenge
Write about a terrible character—a monster, a villain, the worst person you have ever known—and make that character sympathetic to readers.
“The villains are all parts of me. For years I've been wondering what it would be like if all those negative elements were forced onto the main character's side. I can understand a character with that kind of anger."---Hayao Miyazaki. (Think Magneto in X-Men, the Ice King in Adventure Time, The Phantom in the Phantom of the Opera...) 100 coins to the best work :)

Dark Reassurance

"We have to," he explained as we gazed upon the castle. Even cloaked in darkness, the house sparkled. It was a four story stone mansion on 6 acres. There was nothing around us, yet, the walls of night seemed to be closing in on us. A panic attack took hold of me, pushing me to my knees, panting. "Think what happens if we don't get it. Jamie will get sick. I will get sick. This is the only time we know for sure that the doctor is out of town. What other suggestion do you have?!" He wasn't within 5 feet of me, but I felt his hands around my neck, squeezing out the 'yes' I reluctantly muttered.

We had a plan. We had a good plan. I was going to pick the lock, we would split up, each take 2 floors, find the box, and leave. He wasn't supposed to have a key or a gun or an ulterior motive. The dogs weren't supposed to be there either.

He proudly pulled a key from his pocked once we reached the back door. "How?" I questioned. I held up my hand and decided, "You know what? Don't tell me." We unlocked the door, I came inside first, and he closed the door behind him. We didn't take 4 steps before two black monsters came lunging at me. I turned for the door but there was no time. I stared at him while he shot the gun. It was so natural for him.

"Are you ok?" he asked as he wrapped his arms around me. "I didn't want to do that. They would have killed us." He rubbed the back of my head as he rocked me. He knew how to make me feel safe. "Someone might have heard that so we need to go and do this. Check bedrooms and bathrooms. It's in an orange box." I knew where it was. I had been in this house 100 times. The dogs would have killed us. That knowledge didn't change the vile feelings of remorse washing through me. I walked into the doctors bed room. I stepped carefully as I approached the linen closet inside his master closet. The box was in a paper bag under some blankets. I opened it on the bed without saying a word. I knew it was wrong and reconsidered letting him have it. The box contained 4 glass bottles and what looked like a Costco sized bag of needles. The bag of needles made me so uneasy that I slammed box shut. Little did I know, the sound of the wooden box shutting sealed my fate.

"Oh my god. You found it." he uttered with breathy amazement. He grabbed the box, clasped it shut, then took my hand. "Let's get out of here." There was no way I'd be able to convince him to leave some of the medicine for the doctor. The emotions coursing through me could no longer contain themselves: they found an escape through tears and sobs. He opened the box. "You don't understand yet. It's not something we should have to live without. And now we don't have to!" He was getting a dose ready. "You deserve this. I want to give it to you and now I can! You will always come first." He walked towards me with the needle in his hand. He took the back of my head and kissed my forehead.

"Please," I pleaded, "Not right now. I can't." I was trembling as I backed away from him. I thought about the dogs downstairs. I thought about how he got the key to the back door. I thought about how he gave me a home. I thought about how he saved me time and time again. Maybe he was going to save me again. He put the needle in my arm. "Everything is going to be better now," he reassured me.  

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