Slipping through the crack, a painful reminder of who he had been before tortured by the memories he received as dreams only to be unaware of everything he had been. It was a cruel punishment; one instant he’d been feeding and the next something snapped, having him recall several violent acts from his former life that only had him begging the person before him to leave.
“Please...-I do not wish to be this..” his voice was broken, something that mirrored a version of himself that had broken when the red door had swung open last except in this instance, he had no red door and nothing to close. Parts of him wished he had been back in France, with the luxury of peace and silence because here seemed to be painful and not having all the answers almost made him wish to go mad. “Go!” he’d shouted one final time before he’d found himself on his knees, unable to explain why he was now kneeling before the body.













