(WARNING GRAHIC CONTENT!!) The upcoming scene may be hard for some to read, so you may skip, I will put a summary into the Authors notes.

Free. Finally, free enough to breathe, to feel the air soak my lungs, to feel the anger and hatred.

To be a passenger for so many years is the true injustice here. You may hate me, I know David does, but here is the thing, did I not free him?

Controlled by his fears, even as a young boy. I would never hurt David, after all he is my vessel, we share the same headspace.

Even now I feel him, kicking and screaming, pushing at the walls of my skull aching to be free, as I once did.

He will understand why I done this, and so will you.

Glass shattered beneath my feet, puncturing the flesh of my sole, as blood oozed from it. Hands gashed, face bruised, car overturned and crumpled.

Smoke filled the air as I pulled myself to my feet. The thick smog brushed the nostril hairs, giving freedom to a deep breathe out. The exhale of CO2 freed my spirit just a little more.

The downpour of water droplets; a little cliché, but enough to drench my now blood-stained brow. Hair clumped and draped from my scalp.

Adrenaline and pure despise for other humans now pulsated through my veins, causing them to protrude through the skin. The car was totalled, completely unusable; made sense to leave it where it stood – overturned.

Each step forward marked by the glare of the moonlights gaze, illuminating the way forward. Alcohol still clenched in the palm of my hand, for what would happen from this point forward would need the assistance of vodka.

Not because I was scared, or anxious, simply for concentration-based purposes you see. If I let up for one second, David would find that as an excuse to escape his comfy rented room, we needed him to stay put.

Alcohol, the perfect crutch for awakening after such a long slumber. I could already feel the burning at the back of my throat.

Company was not important to me, never had been, but maybe tonight me and David could share in the complexity of others. The moon, the only glare of light that shone upon the abandoned country road that we shared.

Only a mile from the city elevated my need for alcohol, the thought pf the walk ahead bored me immensely.

But first damage had to be done to the man that started this journey for us, he had to pay for his misdeeds. Oleander had to face the consequences for his actions.

I approached a house far from my own. It was a small cosy house that emitted an irradiating sense of comfort and safety. This would no longer be the case.

Opening the gate, I carefully avoided the puddles of water scattered before me. The street was illuminated by the numerous streetlamps, equally distributed up and down the road.

I scuttled silently, thus causing, and eerie vacuum absent of any sound.

Making my way toward the front window – the only room with light pouring from its crevasses.

That was when I saw him. David, and I's creator, lurching in his chair. The genius that created us. The Dr. Frankenstein himself.

As I spent a few moments thinking of all the torturous acts Oleander and performed on

David, I composed myself. Proceeding to push the bell in order to gain Oleander's attention. The door began to creek open.

Before Oleander could mutter a single vowel, I took the bat that had been laying outside, to his skull. Creating an almighty blow, blood sprayed the walls.

Slamming the already damaged door behind me, I forcefully gripped his wrist and proceeded to pull him across the laminate flooring. A trail of smudged blood followed the slug into the living room.

As I sat Oleander into one of the dining room chairs, now located in the living space, my mind accelerated, pondering on what I would do next.

Oleander's eyes slowly opened, allowing blood from the blunt force trauma to slither across his eye lids. It took a few seconds for him to regain full sight.

However, once his eyes became adjusted to the light, he spotted me, and I him. Our eyes locked in a battle, neither of us willing to submit. Instant to this, our mouths began to crack at the edges, creating a mirror image. Both of us were grinning.

I could now see our creator, face to face, rather than a dusty memory of a silhouette plucked from David's memory. No longer would David be held captive by his memories of this man. The roles had now been reversed.

"Hello so-." Before Oleander could finish his pointless greeting, I sunk my fist into his cheek.

The sudden "thud" followed by a "snap" echoed through the halls of the residence. His jaw broken – very reminiscent. Oleander's lips curled as he hurled blood-soaked saliva from his mouth and onto the wooden floorboards.

His face resembling a soft of smile, as though he was proud of his creation, David would not be impressed with his arrogance.

I persisted delivering blow after blow to Oleander's skull, causing many cracks and ruptures. Blood exploded across the flooring and furniture, like fireworks in the night.

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"I know what you are, I know what you made David witness. And after I am finished breaking your bones, we will relive that moment together."

"David, ha-ha. It made you stronger boy. Without me you'd be weak."

"I am not David!"

Furiously grasping Oleanders fingers, I looked into his eyes as I bent them back.

The snapping of each of his fingers, harmonised to the high pitch squeal that Oleander released. I stared at him, blankly, a sudden urge overtook me.

Pulling Oleander from the comfort of the dining room chair and onto the floor, I proceeded to pull down the man's trousers.

Gripping the bat ever tightly I pushed it inside of him. As his squeals scratched my eardrums and his tears lubricated his cheeks I went deeper. 10 minutes. 10 minutes of destroying his insides that resulted in him curled in a heap of dismay; I smiled.

"Do you remember? Do you remember what you have done to her in front of us?"

Keeping my fingers tightly wrapped around the bat that had just been used to abuse

Oleander, I gazed at the dismembered, grotesque feeble excuse for a man we called father.

My eyes masked with the pure rage, blinded by it in fact.

I pulled back the bat beyond my head and allowed gravity to do the rest. In this moment time slowed down completely, allowing me to relish in the moment.

The bat crushed oleanders skull, every crack being felt through vibrations in the bat. His right eye drooped lower than his left.

The skull had caved in, causing fractions of the skull to splinter and pierce the mesencephalon, (midbrain) causing an instant stroke.

This, however, did not stop me. As I continued to crush his skull into the flooring, a syrupy heap of brain, hair and skull lay in a watery pool. His body, lifelessly sprawled, torn rectum exposed and his head almost disappearing into the cracks.

There I stood, towering over Oleander's corpse. Circling flies and a horrid aroma that chased them, or that they chased, filled the air. It was now time to be calculated about what to do next and how to make my presence here disappear.

Taking a bleached soaked cloth to all surfaces, my fingerprints soon became a thing of the past, a ghostly sign.

All murderers are caught through the murder weapon, so it was adamant that the bat would have to stay within my possession, until a later date where I could dispose of it and its evidence.

But maybe I should let David witness the masterpiece I have created for him. Allow him tidy up my mess; it is something he will have to get good at eventually.

"Oh no what the FUCK! What have I done? How ha- how? Why can't I remember anything?"

There I stood. My trainers over swamped by some man's crushed skull and the remains that had poured from it.

"Shit man, okay. Okay it's not time to panic. I have to find out who this guy was and if I should be expecting anyone home. Yeah, that makes sense. Okay."

Frantically searching for any remnants of a family that this man could have returning home, the panic that I had felt began to simmer.

Framed photos sprayed with the man's blood left it impossible to spot his face. Cleaning the glass frame of the photos, revealed who it was.

"Wait, Shit. Wha- why the fuck would I kill him? I get why. But he didn't deserve all of this did he?" My face drained of colour and eyes widened.

The picture of Oleanders face glared directly into me. Within a snapshot the feelings of pain and disgust that he made me feel rushed back. I felt sick.

"Yes, he did. You know he did David."

"Who the fuck said that?" my confusion was elevated by my startling retraction toward the corner of the room.

"Hellooo again David, you miss me?" the voice said sinisterly.

"Who are you?"

"Is it not obvious? Ha-ha people would call you crazy for talking to yourself David, best not let anyone else hear this ha-ha." The voice mocking me from within my own head.

"No. This can't be true. I have to be asleep. Yes of course. Any second I'll awake from this nightmare."

"David, stop being a bitch and clean up our mess yeah?"

"Our mess? So, you done this? Why?"

"Well, yeah okay, clean up my mess. I done this for you, look at the beautiful creation I left you."

"Beautiful? What the fuck? This is sick."

"Well, his smashed in skull is the tamest thing that I done to our father. I bet you wish you knew what I had done to him while you were asleep."

"Actually, no I don't. please just leave me alone. Please. I don't want you here."

"David, you don't have a choice. Now buckle up for the fun ride I have planned."

I cannot. The scene of my father's brutal murderous rape scene lay there sprawled in front of my eyes. Tears glazing my eyes were un- comprehendible; were they tears of fear or love and loss?

Blurring of lines, subsequent to the damage occurring to my very psyche.

This cannot continue. The very existence of this entity in my head, destroying lives and controlling mine, needs to end. Yet the most important action to be undertaken, would be covering this murder up.

I am too deeply involved. I need time to get rid of this THING in my head, and then I will turn myself in.

Stranded, elevated above my fathers decimated corpse I felt empty, only fuelled by the desire to exercise the demon from which lay submerged beneath the surface. Body and mind, both being tightened by the walls that were closing in.

The claustrophobic spaces of freedom being shortened, gripping, and constricting their hold on me. Loss of oxygen becoming more of a regular occurrence, with the loss of sight and memory being clear symptoms of the compression.

"GET. AWAY. FROM. ME!"

Rigid fingers, being stiffened through anger, contorting as I screamed for human to release me. My vocal cords being strained by that same rage, pulling, and lengthening their strings. Jaw locking. Mouth widening.

Rage at my situation and the resulting consequences were leaving my body to be solidified, twisting and grimacing as my fingers locked around the strands of my hair.

Forcefully pulling them in the hopes of pulling human out along with the locks that were transfixed tightly to my scalp.

Glass anger contracted as my temperature and mindset cooled. Still abandoned within the chaos human had created, it was inappropriate timing to be lost to the madness of it all.

Collecting myself and the equipment needed to stage the scene, it became apparent that if this was not accurately faked, I would be stuck with human until the die I died. Locked within two cells. A false awakening of imprisonment.

Sponges soaked in bleach, doused the blood-stained walls and flooring, allowing it to be easily eradicated. Wiping away any fingerprint evidence, as well as the splatter from the initial impact.

With the broom handle cleaned and the repulsive nature of events smeared from existence, it gave me the opportunity to manipulate the scene.

Furniture overturned, pictures smashed and a forceful entry into the property were the key ingredients needed to make it work. The most important part being the lack of proof that would point this particular heinous act back to me.

Mind racing. Heartbeat still climaxing. The mist of confusion became the solace of silence that drowned out the uneven rapid spikes of adrenaline and accelerated thought patterns.

Leaving the property, and the mess human had left along with it, I found myself marooned sheltered by ambient light.

Both paths hugged me as I was positioned within the centre of the road. Gravel drenched in the tears of the clouds clogged the soles of my trainers, stiffening the placement of my feet – gluing my posture dead centre.

Red, blue, and green gleaming lights broke through the rain, forming a collective upon my face.

Me, myself, and my thoughts – all being intruded relentlessly, the only relief I could find for my ideas - my diary. Sarah was my physical comfort, while the diary allowed for my thoughts to be uninterrupted or influenced.

'The plan of action

1. Determine a way to isolate human

2. Either exercise him from my mind or bury him deeply

3. Spend the rest of my life happy and contempt without persuasion'

Clueless on how to begin the journey of these steps, I found myself, once again, within a cloud of confusion. Do I seek medical attention from a professional? Do I attempt to subdue him within my mind, locking him away?