All the demons in my head won't leave me. I know, I can hear them.

It's happening. Again! They chase me to the woods. How did they find me. I feel the breath of hundreds on the back of my neck. Teeth bared I turn to face my tormentors. How many times do I have to kill them? In my head. No! They're here. They tell me I am the crux of everything that goes bad in this world. I am the reason everything is good in this world. World wars, JFK, school shootings, mass genocide. I did all of that. No I didn't. You killed all those people. I did. All those people killed you. They're all here. I'LL KILL YOU AGAIN. Get out! Come back no one understands. Theres nobody here but you're not even here. Maybe I can get them all out, they're tearing the inside of my brain. He's there with. The knife. He picks pieces of myself out of his teeth. My knees want to buckle. You are what I made you and I made you in my image. No! You're not god. God is dead and no one cares if there is a hell I'll see you there. You're not inside of me. None of you. The voices of the dead are shrieking inside my cranium. I claw at my scalp not caring about the chunks of hair coming out under my nails. Why won't it stop? The trees are caterwauling. When did I get to the woods? I'M ONLY A MONSTER BECAUSE YOU MADE ME ONE. I hear my the mad chortling of my sire. I killed you. You're ashes and dust and I'm infected. I toss my head back and howl, a flock of birds take off chattering from the tree. I kick and gouge holes into the trunk. Falling into the dirt I look up. Marisa. I'm sorry. Her sweet face twists into a grimace as her skin disintegrates. Her rotten skeleton points a finger at me and her sweet voice echoes in my head. Your fault. Demon. Murderer. I feel scorching blood tears on my face. Why is my family here? All these specters are pointing their fingers at me. MONSTER. BEAST. Their voices are deafening. I can't scream over them. I can't beat them out of my skull. Nononononono. I'll kill them all again! I rush at each victim, frenzied. Ripping. Where there should be soft flesh there is fur. Unyielding rock. Splintering wood. Feathers. No! Forgive me! Forgive me! I don't WANT your forgiveness. No matter how much I destroy there is no cease to the shrieking and accusations. I sink into the ground. Curled up tight. I clench my eyes shut so tight they may never open again. No more. No more.

Hours. Days. Minutes. Later.

Coming back.

I'm coming back.

“Ah. Christ.” I palm blood and who knows what else out of my eyes. My hands are smutty with filth. Hefting myself out of the dirt and leaves I look around me. Oh, this again. It looks like a tornado touched down. I guess one kind of did. I laugh aloud. Trees are splintered, some are uprooted. There's animal corpses scattered around. Ugh. That's what I'm tasting. I spit in distaste. Touching the top of my head gingerly I feel the torn skin already healing, the hair growing back. I pick something off the forest floor. Well damn, this cell phone actually made it through one of my conniption fits. It's almost 6am. I feel a small tremor of panic at the threat of dawn. Can't make it back to shelter in time. Guess I'm going to ground for the day. I send a brief message to Mongrel. “Had an episode. Don't wait up. Sleeping in the woods.” I dig until a makeshift resting place is created. Crawling into the soil and pulling it on top of me my last thought before drifting into my day coma...fucking Malkavians.