I sit on my cot in the room, filled with artificial light and with walls padded, for my own protection, they say. It isn't true. They fear me. Fear what i can do. The inhumane strength, the brute force strong enough to bend, to destroy the metal bars in the prison cell they kept me in before throwing me in here. The brute force I used for what i was fooled into believing was the greater good. Oh how i was naive. I should have known better than to trust him. Him. The devil that roamed my head, lured me into trusting him with my deepest secrets. The puppeteer that played my strings and made me his obedient puppet. They know his name. They know what he has done, yet I'm the one in here, in the asylum for the criminally insane. I'm the one force fed with pills and I'm the one having syringes jabbed into my skin. The many marks, dents around my veins is the proof of it. My holes, i call them. My holes that keeps getting reopened, that multiplies when I attempt to fight back. And after multiplying, the drowsiness sets in. The drug induced sleep I have grown to loathe. For only in my dreams does this demon appear. Only then he comes to mock and harrass. To prod and poke until i crack. Just like the brain fiddlers. The psychiatrists, psychologists and the damned nurses with their forced smiles, they attempt to keep me from raging with their smiles and faked cheerfulness. I can see it in their eyes, on their legs which they attempt to keep from shaking long enough for them to force some new drug into my system, so that they can flee back to the safer patients, without pissing their pants or losing an limb. Cowards.
Those that've already given in to the demons, to those that've already cracked, turning them into nothing more than medicated, brainless zombies. They say they're trying to help me, to get me back on my feet. Liars. All of them. They're as much his puppets as I was. Using his domain, his teachings in an attempt to soothe, to calm us. I don't fall for their tricks though. Never again, i promised myself when i got locked up for doing what the demon wanted me to. What it tricked me into. When I saw him for what he really was. An Incubus, a demon, a selfproclaimed trickster god.
Loki.