I lay deep down inside of a being called Insanity.

The layer of stone-like material is only a shell, you see.

Through mere humans you could tell (if there is something deeper than the surface) through their eyes.

But alas, the eyes of Insanity are white pools of nothing.

And with the nothing comes something- some form of emptiness and misery, pain and hurt, sadistic energy and playful qualities.

You wouldn't know that under that layer lays me.

The only evidence of something under that icy shell,

Is the horns.

Maroon, twisted, eerily smooth, long, pointed horns.

Two of them perturbing out of Insanity's skull.

The color of these horns is the only clue

Of me, to you.

But maybe I should explain, since this is my domain.

When Insanity was a child, he went by Charles then, he was innocent.

And like all children, he kept his inner self inside his personal womb.

But the womb walls covering a child's inner self are not strong nor secure.

Easily penetrated, distorted, changed...

Charles' was stabbed again and again

Until it turned red from all that blood

Until the external Charles was no longer human

Morphed by force into Insanity

Forced to become what it is now through self defence

I suppose at one point I could have convinced him to turn back

To live.

But I didn't, and I'm glad.

Now Insanity and me are bound forever.

He holds the shell and I hold the soul.

The soul. The desire. The fire.

I am Insanity's Fire.