*Prompt: I want to break you.*

At first, Billy thought it was his imagination. But on second glance, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he confirmed that it was indeed his absolute worst enemy standing there. Staring.

"What are you doing here?" he growled, hands curling into tight fists. The sound of his gloves being squeezed tightly against his knuckles was the only sound. But even that faded to silence, and the two were left glowering at one another with barely contained loathing etched equally on their faces.

Not replying, huh? Fine. Did he really think that it would unnerve him? Dr. Horrible sneered. What a pathetic attempt to engage in psychological warfare. He wouldn't even give him the satisfaction of playing along.

"I told you to never show your face in this town again. You're finished here, a has-been, a dried up loser. You have no purpose because I took everything from you." He tried to smirk but it faltered as he continued, "It's only fair though, isn't it? You took my everything away from me. All I ever wanted, and you took her away from me!"

He felt a sob starting to choke his throat, cutting off his air, blurring his vision with tears. No. No, he never allowed anyone to see him weak. Because he wasn't weak. Weakness didn't exist in his world any longer.

In an instant, the despair threatening to overtake him channeled itself into the emotion it now knew best. The feeling that he clung to, that he was addicted to, that he needed every waking moment.

Hate.

Blindly, he groped around for anything to use for a weapon. His fingers wrapped around a metal component he had planned on using for upgrading his Obliteration Ray. It would look better covered in blood. Anything would look better if it were covered in his blood.

Everything would be perfect if it weren't for the man standing before him. Life would have followed the plan. And she would still be alive. And for that reason, he would break him. Break him into a thousand tiny shards that could never be put back together. Pieces so small they would float through the air like dust, disgusting, dirty dust.

With every ounce of strength he could muster, he hoisted up his newly christened weapon and hurled it with full force at his head. The sound was beautiful, like a wind chime tinkling as a breeze tickles it chimes. The destruction was even better, stretching across the room and sparkling like diamonds in the artificial light.

And then there was silence again. The weapon dropped to the floor with a clunk, reverted back to being a mere cog of a bigger weapon. Without a glance, Dr. Horrible turned from the shattered mirror and walked away.