HOLlOwfICaTIoN
You don't know what it feels like. Does anyone? What it feels like then, is like having something sharp shoved under every inch of skin. Yeah, that sounds about right. How can you look at someone in that much pain? How can you not want to reach out and relieve them of their suffering? I'm not sure I would. Why not? The bastard just sat and watched. If it happened to him, he'd just enjoy it, take it all in. Pain doesn't exist to that man. Pain exists to us. To humans. So what if it happened right? It doesn't make us any less different.
Don't look at me in that way. There's eight of us inside here. Don't mess with me. There's eight of us inside here. Don't invade me. There's eight of me inside us. Us inside of me. Inside here. That's right, that's the one. Time goes by so slowly don't it. It feels like an age since I started writing this letter. And all he did was watch. People died. People lost everything. We did. We died.
Do you know what the first feeling is? Hunger. It's a desire to feed. Then it begins to burn. Then it begins to swirl and you see the place going top side down. Does that even mean anything. I don't care. Do I care? I don't think I even have feelings anymore. It feels like there's a creature in here with me. The scary part is I know its true. What are we supposed to do? Accept our life as experiments gone wrong? Unless we were successes. Unless we were success. Success. Success. Success. Its all he strived for. We were like lab rats while he sat and watched. Its like the death, the pain, the murder just reflected off of his eyes.
The worst thing of all was watching the others fall. That's when you realise you can't do anything to save them. That's when you realise that your body would happily snap before it would help. It's burning again. I can feel it moving. It's in my mind. Shit. Shit. Shit. Anger agitates. Anger stirs it up. I've got to keep calm. I've heard people saying that I'm lucky, lucky to still be alive. To me, the lucky died in the experiments that night. I can feel it moving. It's becoming impatient. The burning, the swirling. It's impossible, I'm hungry, hungry, hungry, hungry, hungry, hungry, hungry, hungry, hungry, hungry, hungry, hungry, hungry, hungry, hunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn