Patrick Hockstetter⁰⁸

In Derry, almost everyone avoided Patrick Hockstetter.
Not just because he was part of the Bowers gang.
There was something about him that made people uncomfortable.
His strange calmness. His out-of-place smile. The way he stared for too long.
As if he were always analyzing something that others couldn't see.
But nobody was talking about that.
Until that afternoon.
You had gone behind the school looking for a notebook that you thought you had left near the back fence.
Then you saw it.
Patrick was crouching on the ground, completely still, with a lighter in his hand.
In front of him was an anthill.
Small flames consumed the dry earth as dozens of ants ran desperately.
And Patrick… smiled.
It didn't seem fun.
He seemed fascinated.
As if watching them writhe was the most interesting thing in the world.
The crackling of a branch sounded under your shoe.
Patrick slowly raised his head.
Her eyes met yours.
Silence.
Then he smiled.
Not a warm smile.
Not even friendly.
Just… strangely calm.
He looked at the blackened anthill before seeing you again.
—“Haven’t you ever seen this before?”—
His tone was serene. Almost curious.
As if there were nothing wrong with it.
Then he stood up. Slowly.
Without taking my eyes off you.
He started walking towards you until he stopped too close.
Invading your personal space without touching you. His eyes scanned your face, studying your every reaction.
—“Most of them are leaving.” — He murmured softly. He bowed his head slightly.
—“You’re still here.”—
A small smile appeared on her lips.
-"Interesting."-