My Vile Former Roommate...

Let's start off with the characters: Me: A 20 year old college kid, pretty normal, has some interest in anime but not too much. WeebAlphaPrime: A vile weeaboo

So it was 2013, I finally got accepted into UT with a scholarship for everything except room and board. I waited two years for someone to accept my application and getting a pool of money that I can sustain myself on so when the time came I was hyped like crazy. I thought that it would be the end of my troubles for a short time and I could finally rest easy. As I entered my dorm, those hopes were shatters when I saw the anime posters and figurines scattered across the wall and floor along with the sound of hentai at full volume. I then realized that I have entered the depths of hell itself. I inched into the dorm, my heart pounded with the force of a thousand super sayans punching each other. I knew that this might be the end. I walked and I saw a figure in front of the TV with a waifu pillow, probably jerking himself off. He turned around and I saw the horrific nightmare himself, WeebAlphaPrime. He was a 5ft 9 manlet, made of skinnyfat and cum. His hazel, souless eyes were partially covered by greasy, unkempt hair. He spoke in a slur, speaking in a horrific dialect that's a combination of English and Japanese. "So you're the roomate, my name is WeebAlphaPrime-Kun, and this is my waifu, Kirino desu" I realized the horrors I was in for and had to use every bit of self-control in my body to not bash his head in. So I endured putting up with 1 horrific year of his bullshit. I asked him what degree he was getting and he said "Art so I can be a great mangaka". His entire schedule consisted of coming back from class, wanking it, talking to his waifu (honestly I think he just plain lost his mind) and wanking it some more along with reading a shitload of manga. I put a blacklight over that pillow and it looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. At the end of the year, I hated him more than anyone I ever knew, I just wanted to make him suffer and burn. So I did, one day when he was away, I took his waifu pillow which he luckily forgot to bring with him that day, I guess whatever divine power exists was on my side then. I donned a pair of gloves and went to work. I tore his filthy pillow into pieces and took some fake halloween blood and spilled it all over. I was tired of his shit so I decided to make this my masterpiece, my goodbye present to a disgusting being like him. I ripped it apart Jack the Ripper style, spraying its internals everywhere. I deleted his entire hentai collection and wrote a note in the fake Halloween as a homage to those cheesy creepypasta serial killers. "Your waifu now has no laifu." I left (obviously the process is a bit more complex but I don't wanna bore you with logistics of checking out of the dorm and such), got into my car and watched carefully with binoculars. When he arrived, he was mortified, he was literally screaming and crying. I don't know how the hell someone could cry at a jizzrag pillow being ripped apart but somehow he did. He was acting like an actual family member or loved one died. And I just sat there, watching, savoring every delicious moment. I was grinning ear to ear laughing maniacally. I guess at that moment I became some sort of a sadist, I thoroughly enjoyed his reaction. I guess I stared into that dark abyss for so long that I lost some of my sanity as well. As I right this in my apartment, I actually do somewhat feel bad for the fellow and somewhat regret my actions but another part of me just tells me "That bastard deserved it."