Mr. Red nodded his head quickly. "Yes, it would be best if you just went to go and do that." He hissed gently between his teeth. Raising his other hand from the desk, he unscrewed the top. Tipping the bottle in his hand so as to get a few of the medicinal wonders. He shook his head slightly as three slipped out. He really, really should not have taken three of them. But he had to insure that he would not slip up. He looked up a little self consciously before he threw his hand back, tossing the med's into his open mouth. He felt himself breath softly through his nose. His right hand outstretched for a glass or cup of water.<br/><br/>As he waited for the water. He felt his left hand clench the desk again. The muscle and veins in his arms bulged as he fought down his inner, murderous self. Again, the images flashed by his mind. He could barely hold back that feeling of being choked and tossed out of his body. Just for a monster to take his place. He looked down at the table. That is what the anti-psychotics are for. His mind drifted as what felt like seconds turned into what felt like hours for the water to come. Although it was probably only minutes that had passed.<span style="font-style: italic">I really need to kill somebody.</span>He thought in his head.