[ WP ] Write an incredibly hateable character who is n't explicitly evil or antagonistic .

You watch them, as you always do, at twelve'o'clock sharp everyday they gather outside your estate. They're waving signs and shouting insults and curses at you and what you've done. 
 
 `` Tyrant!'' They yell. `` Monster!'' They chant. 
 
 You've heard it before. You'll hear it again. 
 
 `` Scum! You've ruined us! We trusted you to save us!'' One woman, a new woman, shouts above all the others. The line of CorpSec officers advanced slowly their riot shields and batons beating back the crowd. 
 
 You've seen it before. You'll see it again. 
 
 The woman looks up at your window, a look of betrayal in her tear filled eyes. 
 
 Another man in the crowd pulls out a 9mm pistol, the old, archaic handgun looking so out of place next to their clean clothes and the sterilized street. Within seconds the man's brains are blown out of his skull by a CorpSec officer and the crowd panics and scatters. 
 
 You turn away from the window, heading back to your office. You pass by pictures and certificates and awards galore. 
 
 There, on a small desk was the Nobel peace prize you won when you helped cure cancer, beside it the picture of you standing by the last nuclear warhead as its disarmed. 
 
 A small stand holds the United Nations plaque given to you when they were still an actual organization, commemorating the peacekeeping missions you assisted with your company, giving the medicines to the sick and injured. 
 
 On the other side of the hallway stands the stack of old, pathetic newspapers from when your company accidentally ruined the work of a rival, killing billions in an instant. 
 
 As you enter your office the largest picture hangs above your desk, showing the nations of the world signing the Unification accord, combining them into a single entity, a single voice, at the cost of every civil liberty and freedom their citizens had. 
 
 
 You sit in your big, oak desk, the last of its kind on the planet and open the top left drawer. You pull out an old, worn.357 revolver, holding the gun to your head you pull the trigger. 
 
 It does n't fire, it never does. 
 
 Wordlessly you place the gun back in the drawer and look on your past achievements. 
 
 The time you cured cancer, undertaken to prevent others from losing their spouse, who died to the disease years ago. 
 
 The peacekeeping missions, undertaken in memory of your son, who was killed by a landline while assisting refugees. 
 
 The nuclear disarmament, done to prevent the destruction of the rest of the world, after China and the U.S fought eachother using the foul things, killing far worse than you could ever have imagined. 
 
 The Unification accord, created in memory of your daughter, who died in a border war between nations that could n't see the carnage they were causing, the families they were destroying. 
 
 You think back on what that woman said, how you were supposed to save them. 
 
 *'I have.'* You think, *'I've given everything to you, my life, my company, my wealth, my research and dreams.....my family.'* 
 
 You always think this, do this routine. Everyday, on the dot. 
 
 You've done it before. You'll do it again.
