(Requested by @the-potatoy-one)
Anti sat, fuming, in the corner of Jack’s recording room. “I’m never coming out,” he muttered to himself, gouging deep lines in the carpet with his knife. His eyes darted to the door as he heard it open, revealing Jack’s ever-smiling face.
“Heya, glitch bitch. Why’re you hiding in here?” The Irishman asked, stepping into the room.
“I’m not coming out until he’s gone,” Anti spat, curling his lip.
Great Minds
Published
A Glitch Named Anti 