AN: This chapter has been updated to be more concise and to fix grammar mistakes.

"I wanted to give you something."

The man leaned back and opened a drawer from the bottom of his desk, pulling out something before shutting it. Both of his hands stretched outwards as he revealed what object he had in store with him, a sketchbook. His cold fingers sprawled over the leather cover as he waited for Isaac to take the gift. He did so, with caution.

"I've seen that you have a fondness for drawing."

Isaac observed the leather cover as he opened it, revealing a vast amount of empty pages as he flipped through with unease. As if the book would come out and attack him at some point. Pages and pages waiting for his handwork to be graced with.

"Something that I want you to do, whenever you start to get those emotions or thoughts again, I want you to draw out what you feel. Create a picture of what you're thinking and sketch it for me. Can you do that, Isaac?"

He looked up and stared blankly at him for a moment, before slowly nodding his head in agreement. The man pulled out a sharpened pencil from his mug and handed it to him. Isaac took the pencil as he felt the pointy, sharp tip against his fingertip. He glanced at the blank page and thought for a moment. He began to imagine a picture of a horrible blobulous beast that looked like a disgusting misshapen head, spewing out blood all over from its mouth, which contained only about 5 rotten teeth. He exhaled, taking in a breath as he pressed the pencil onto the paper, and began sketching out the figure in which he saw.

CHAPTER ONE

TRAIN TRACKS

It was the sudden shaking of the train that woke him up, as he suddenly forced his heavy eyelids to open, and was forced out his dream. His mind felt cloudy, as he jerked his heard around and looked around at location he was set in. The smell of rain and damp carpet, and the faint scent of coffee in the air as the bobbing of the train rumbled throughout. Right... He was on a train heading off east to the town he was moving to. Not a lot of people filled the seats of the train, around twelve or twenty he counted, all busy with their own problems. He himself was seated in the back of the train, next to a window that was littered with raindrops, casting a spotted shadow on his face with the faint light that strayed through the clouds.

Isaac closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, before shifting his focus to staring out the window. It was cloudy and raining, as trees and a few scattered houses zoomed by. The landscape itself was very suburban. He exhaled on the window as it fogged up, drawing a little smile with the fog. He was anything but eager and happy to be moving to a whole new town where he knew no one. He glanced at the sketchbook that sat on his lap. Issac himself wore a long wool sweater and jeans, in the seat next to him was his bag full of belongings. His mind was...Uneasy. An uneasy feeling of discomfort that was pitted in his stomach, aching and putting his mind in a state of unrest. He always tried to think to let these feelings go. Focus on something else, they would always say. Still he dared not to let his mind linger to those thoughts of before. Of what led to him being on this train. Of them. Of her.

"Damn it." He thought to himself.

"Not here. Not now." He focused on the window again, the sun beginning to set past the trees as darkness began to make it's way in the land. He tried to relax his breathing a bit, as his grip tightened on his sketchbook. It was painfully obvious how nervous he was. Moving to a new town and all those problems faced with that. It was the uncertainty of it, most likely. Although deep down he knew exactly what would go down. Any person he met, they would just find him weird and unlikeable. He would just be alone, as he had always been. Still, it would be more bearable with the support he had now. And as far he was aware, none of IT would appear. It would be lonely, but it would also be livable. Painfully liveable. He tried not to think too much about it, rather focusing on the world zooming by past him in a blur, as he neared his destination.

...

He focused on the faint footsteps of his shoes against the sidewalk, keeping his mind clear as he forcefully made his way to his destination . It was late now, the sun gone as the moon shined brightly in the sky, half full, providing the small sliver of light to guide him forward. After getting out the train and taking a cab, he decided to walk the rest of the way. His head was held low, as his discomfort and anxiety grew. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he continued to walk through the neighborhood, streetlights Illuminating his path, their orange glow guiding him. The weight of his bag felt like it was beginning to grow on his side after the long trek he's made so far, the pain he felt on his shoulders an indicator of this. He stopped finally at a house. It was a cozy two story house with a garage on the left and a weathervane with the silhouette of a rooster on the top. There was no wind to blow it, as it idly stood there, motionless. Even through the darkness of the night he could see the worn down paint red paint that showed the age the house carried. He pulled out a small scrap of paper from his pocket, unfolding it and looking at the scribbled address.

3714 EBOTT EASTSIDE ST.

This was it. This was the place. He stuffed the paper back as he took a few steps across the lawn, approaching the door. He stepped on the porch as stopped inches from the old wooden door. He took a small breath before forcing his hand up and knocking before anymore objections came into his mind. A few moments later the door was answered. it was a small elderly woman with curled and messy grey hair, wrinkles around her eyes and nose, wearing a wrinkled dotted dress with a cane in her hand.

"And who exactly are you? Bothering me at thi-" Her words were stopped as soon as she was able to fully get a good look at the boy. His bald head, big blue eyes that always looked like they could burst into tears any minute. A timid face along with that frail body of his.

"Isaac? Is it really here?" He nodded his head as she came forth and gave him a hug. He was a bit taken aback, but couldn't help but hug back. It was possibly the one of the only people that would care for him in this entire world, his mother's old friend. Grace.

"Oh, when I heard about it all... Isaac I'm sorry. I knew when your father left, it would make her worse. Please, come inside. You must be tired after that trip." He followed her inside, closing the door behind him.

...

It had been a surprisingly short day for Isaac. It had felt like only hours of what was an entire day of a journey. It was weird how time worked sometimes, where moments you want to cherish are gone in an instant, and moments where you want nothing more than for it to end are stretched for an agonizingly long time. Most of time it wasn't in your favor. After finally setting in and heading on to his room that was given to him on the top floor, he dropped his bag on the cabinet and unpacked his things. His clothes, some personal belongings, and his pills. He held the pills in his hand and examined the bottle closely.

TAKE TWO PILLS EACH DAY DURING BEDTIME AND MORNING.

He sighed a bit as he walked downstairs to the bathroom. He set the pills down and turned on the sink, washing his face a bit before starring himself in the mirror. He could still see it. That horrible version of himself was still there. The bestial desire in his eyes, the horns that pretruded from his skull, and that awful smile. It was all still there whenever he looked upon himself. He was still the same. He was still a monster.

You can't get rid of me. HE said. Isaac shut his eyes and tried to shut him out.

But he kept speaking.

Were the same, you and I. You are as corrupt as I am. We are one. You cannot hide what is yourself, and you know that. Don't you see Isaac? Don't you understand how worthless this all really is?

His tone was mocking, as if he was making fun of Isaac. He covered his ears in a futile attempt to shut out the voice, as his shut eyes tightened. He had to force himself not think about it. Not to cry.

You know that it'll all happen again. Do you really want to fight against the inevitable?

Against fate?

"Shut up..."

Is that what you really want? You want to go through the exact same cycle again and again? Do you think you'll just be able to just forget? Just take your pills and pretend that it's alright?

"Shut up."

None of this is going to change anything. I'm just trying to help you, Isaac.

"SHUT UP!"

To help US.

He spent no time longer before grabbing the pill bottle, and stuffing two capsules in his mouth. He turned on the sink again as he cupped his hands to drink some of the water to help wash it down. He stared at his reflection again. No one there, no voice.

It was just him now. The faint whispers that began to return vanished again, leaving only himself. He grabbed the bottle and brought it back to his room.

...

After changing into some comfortable night time clothing, he sat down on his bed as he tried to recollect himself. He stared out the open window of his room and walked towards it. It was nighttime. Crickets chirping as the moon beamed into the night.

This was it, his new life. His new self. But was it really different? Would things really change? Or would it go back into the same usual cycle of pain and sadness? Could he really escape it all? Was he even out that wonderland of his mind? After was lost in his thoughts, before shaking his head and instead focusing on less troubling things, anything really.

That's when he noticed her.

She had dark, long straight hair that went to her shoulders. Her cheeks were odd, with a noticeable pink blemish to them that made her look like she was always blushing. Her eyes were red. A dark red that seemed to make them look like they were glowing. Her hands looked oddly pale. As if she was wearing some sort of gloves on hiding her skin. Like a killer's hands.

But the most perplexing feature to him was her eyes. They was something about her that enticed him, but also scared him. He couldn't help but find her somewhat beautiful and dangerous. She had her arms crossed as she stared out her open window to her room. It was on the top floor, much like his own. She had an annoyed glare, as if she had gotten in argument with someone and was blowing off steam.

He didn't even notice how long he was looking at her until she noticed him. They both locked eyes for a second, staring each other down as it was her turn to analyze him. He quickly realized the awkwardness of the situation after awhile, and in an attempt to lighten the situation, he waved at her. A small simple wave as some sort of greeting. Hopefully she could overlook the fact that he was basically spying on her.

She waved back as well, an intrigued glare in her eyes before looking behind her, as if someone was telling her something and her expression returned to annoyed. She gave him one last stare. It wasn't an angry stare or a confused stare. It was a friendly one odd enough. She then closed her window and headed to her own room, before the lights that shone out turned off.

He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, and thought about the whole experience for a moment. Who was she? It seemed like his next door neighbor, but why was he so fascinated by her? The eyes. He felt them burned in his mind. Those red tinted eyes that stared into his own soul. He was entranced and hypnotized by them.

Maybe things would be different after all.