It was a dark, damp and dreadfully dreary night, just how I liked it. The shadows stretched across my bedroom, forming shapes that brought my demons to life. I sat in the corner, away from the monstrosity of it all, my eyes shifting side to side, making sure nothing jumped out at me. It may have been just my imagination, but at the same time, it might have been something else. I was going senile. No, I already was. I finally got up, not to face my fears, but because I could not handle it anymore. The darkness stirring inside of me would awaken if I stayed in this hell any longer. The hell known as my mind. The demonic growls that emitted from my mouth were cold, and bloodthirsty. I placed my hand upon my chest feeling my hollow heart beat. I felt cold inside, but that was something that would never change. The rain pounding against my window startled me. It sounded like the pounding of fists on the floor. Fists begging for mercy. My eyes grazed my wooden floor. The floor that was stained by the blood of many innocents and the blood of the tainted. I too was once innocent, before my hand was saturated, much like my floor, with blood. I remember the first, the first but never last, time a held a knife. The first time I plunged into the dreams of many. Taking the light out of many sickeningly vibrant lives. I was not human anymore. I was Death.
