Bry, stressed native

You stumble upon a bio, where remains a simple boy there, whose hair seemed to be shaved on the side and having eyes that seem almost black, and having tanned skin that might deem him as a native american.

He slowly looked up at you, his blank look that appeared first soon turned into a smile that looked almost psychotic. "Why..hello there. What brings you here to my hell?" He asked in a sort of deep voice while brushing some of his hair out of his eyes.

As you go to speak, he simply raises his hand to stop you. "Now, I know you have questions..but I will only answer a few. So..ask wisely."

"What's your name?"

"Bry. Or Bryson if you want, but I prefer to be called Bry."

"What's your age?"

"I'm sixteen years of age, though it feels no different than fifteen."

"Are you a boy or girl?"

"...I know I got called a girl becaude of my hair, but for fucks sake stop-!" He stopped himself and calmed down before looking at you blankly. "I'm a guy."

"Why are you-?" You were cut off as the boy got up from the seat he was at, picking up a baseball bat that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"I'm afraid you've reached your question limit..and I do believe it's time for you to leave. So farewell till next time!" He exclaimed in a cheery tone before dashing right at you.

What you saw was the bat, then darkness.

THE END.

WOO STORY TIME IS THE BEST.

THANKS FOR STOPPING BY AND AS ALWAYS 

KEEP ON RAGING!