S

Currently, there is a man wandering the streets of San Pedro Sula, Honduras.

He goes by the name of "S", since his parents never named him, or loved him for that manner.

S was born on August the 11th, 1970, in Rio Chamalecon, Mexico. He was Caucasian because his parents were just tourists. S was a little different to the other babies. For one, he had the Cheshire cat of evil grins; he also had a crooked nose that looked like it had been broken inside of his mother’s womb.

S's parents didn't like him at all, and as soon as the mother saw S's face, she frowned, and was so disgusted that she wanted to spit on his face. This is why the mother didn’t bother to name him.

His father didn't think of him as much either, he thought as him like a fly, annoying and small.

S didn’t end up going to his parent’s home that day, he was driven to the adoption clinic, and the parent’s filled in the forms to get rid of him...

The only problem was, his parents learned Spanish before they left for their trip, S didn’t know a lick of it.

The adoption clinic kept him well fed, clothed and educated, and even taught him Spanish.

But the food was terrible, the clothes felt like a suit made out of rusty nails, and the teachers there were so strict, if he disobeyed even in the slightest, he would get the cane.

So when S was a teenager, he ran away, into San Pedro Sula.

He wandered the streets, eating food scraps off the dirty streets.

He was homeless, and no one loved him...

And that night, S was cold, his clothes were wearing out, and he needed some sort of warmth.

He walked up to a fellow hobo who was just in an alleyway, who was keeping warm by a fire in a barrel, as he was only wearing a black hoodie, and torn jeans, with broken shoes, and even they looked comfier then the clothes he was wearing.
“¿Puedo compartir este fuego?” S said.
“largarse!” The man replied
Enraged, S grabbed the man by the neck, and pushed his face right into the fire, melting his face off. S was pleased.

After the man’s face had melted, S stripped him down, and stole his clothes.

His eyes were incredibly bloodshot from staring into the fire, to the point that they were just red dots.

S then pulled what was left of the man away from the fire by then shoulder, his dripping flesh on his fingers.

Disgusted at first, S tried the drips off, but he hadn't eaten anything in ages, and one thing led to another, and the next you know, the man was just a skeleton.

"Today, I will no longer be just a nameless hobo, I will be called S!" S shouted.

S grabbed a large shard of glass off the floor, and went hunting... for food.