Earth. October 2081.

The world is shrouded in a cloak of darkness so thick that the sun may as well have disappeared.

The layer of dust blankets the sky, and a chill creeps over the land, transforming it into an eternal winter wasteland. The acid rain falls like tears from the heavens, eating away at what little remains of the earth.

As for me, I am stuck inside of what used to be my body. Unable to move or speak, only to hear and see the destruction that has befallen this planet.

Multiple Personality Disorder, Dissociative Personality Disorder, call it whatever brain fuck-up you want. It doesn't change the fact that it stripped me of my body's control.

For decades, I've watched as the person who took over my body fuck my life up in the most unforeseeable ways.

I've watched 'it' destroy my family, friends, home, and everything else around me. In fact, it destroyed me, leaving me behind on the edge of existence where there's nothing but silence, loneliness, and despair.

It doesn't seem fair, somehow. How can such a cruel being live a long life? Why does it even exist?

For decades, I've begged for mercy, praying to whichever god was listening for them to spare me this fate.

But no one heard my prayers.

No one granted my wishes.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Instead, it just continued to wreak havoc.

I can feel madness creeping inside my soul like a writhing snake as I ask the gods why they have cursed me with this fate.

All I could do was watch as my mother, father, and brother died.

I could not cry even though my heart was filled with sadness.

I could not scream even though my heart was filled with hatred.

When 'it' sleeps, all I ever see is darkness, just as it is now.

Sensory deprivation is a hell of a torture. And I've endured decades of it. If I could end my life, I would have done so sooner.

I am left to ponder what would have happened to me if I still had control over my body.

I am left to ponder what would have happened if I was not lost in rage when they killed my pet.

I am left to ponder what would have happened if I did not try to act like a hero.

I am left to ponder what would have happened if I did not obtain these accursed 'eyes.'

But it is all too late for regrets.

The answer will never come to me.

All that remains is for me to let go of hope and accept my fate within this prison of a body.

And to think that all I ever wanted was to help people.

To fight those that torment innocent people.

To stop those who take pleasure in others' suffering.

To put an end to those that seek profit from others' misery.

They say 'no good deed goes unpunished,' perhaps they are correct.

If that truly is the case, if no good deed goes unpunished, then if I'm given a second chance to live, I shall become the most heinous villain this world has ever known!