p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b000e4ebbd090b67d5ac8ded0f5d1056"Jacob povbr style="box-sizing: border-box;" /I awoke from the blackout, and felt...different. I felt taller, more muscular. Something also felt different about my face. I couldn't stop smiling. I stood up. I appeared to be in the middle of a cornfield. It took a while to get used to walking on these new legs, but when I got the hang of it, even walking normally (which was all I could do) seemed faster than normal running. I saw a huge farmhouse in the distance, and I walked over towards it. The doors were missing, so I just stepped right in. I immediately regretted stepping inside, as I saw several bloody, skinned pigs hanging from the ceiling. It creeped me out, but it wasn't something I couldn't handle. I felt something crack under my foot. I looked down, and saw glass shards on the ground. I moved my foot, and saw my reflection in the glass. I was immediately terrified. My face was not a pale white, my cheeks and lips were carved into a permanent smile, my eyes appeared to be missing, but I could still see. I wanted to scream, but my mouth wouldn't budge. I didn't want to know what my voice sounded like anyways. I looked around, and walked as fast as I could out of the barn. This was a nightmare. My nightmare. Little did I know how it felt to the others./p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c98914ea9240ebe15b806257f1d4337e"I looked at the ground, and saw my old shovel. I don't know how I knew it was mine, it just felt right. I picked it up. It felt heavy and dangerous in my hands. There appeared to be some kind of chain wrapped around it. I pulled the chain off. I felt I could use this chain somehow. I then heard a twig snap. I turned around as fast as I ever had, and was met with the face of a frightened human, it wore glasses, had a white shirt with a tie, and a flashlight in its hands. It turned its head and ran. I gave chase. I don't know why I gave chase. But there was something in my mind that told me, persuaded me, forcing me to think that if I smashed this human's face in over and over again, and made it suffer, and kill it, all my troubles would fade away. I had no clue where this idea came from, but I didn't fight it. I needed to kill it. I gave chase until I got close to it, and swung my hammer down on its back. The blade of the shovel pierced its back, causing it to bleed. The human then ran to a nearby pallet, and slammed it down on my head as I was about to hit him. I grunted, and stumbled backwards. It hurt, but it hurt something else inside me much more. I slammed my foot on the pallet, breaking it into pieces with two kicks. I continued the chase. Suddenly, I had an idea. I pulled out my chain, and swung it around my head, and threw one end at the human survivor. The chain wrapped around the survivor's leg, and pulled him to the ground. It was at this point I realized what I was doing. "Stop it!" I told myself. But I didn't. I couldn't control myself. I fought, and fought, but to no avail. Eventually, I pulled the survivor close to me, and stabbed the blade of my shovel through its neck, decapitating it. I gave up fighting. The pleasure of the kill. It was overwhelming. I shook, terrified. What had I become? Who did this to me? I had little care, as I looked for more survivors, almost as if it had become a habit, then and there.../p
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c98914ea9240ebe15b806257f1d4337e"I looked at the ground, and saw my old shovel. I don't know how I knew it was mine, it just felt right. I picked it up. It felt heavy and dangerous in my hands. There appeared to be some kind of chain wrapped around it. I pulled the chain off. I felt I could use this chain somehow. I then heard a twig snap. I turned around as fast as I ever had, and was met with the face of a frightened human, it wore glasses, had a white shirt with a tie, and a flashlight in its hands. It turned its head and ran. I gave chase. I don't know why I gave chase. But there was something in my mind that told me, persuaded me, forcing me to think that if I smashed this human's face in over and over again, and made it suffer, and kill it, all my troubles would fade away. I had no clue where this idea came from, but I didn't fight it. I needed to kill it. I gave chase until I got close to it, and swung my hammer down on its back. The blade of the shovel pierced its back, causing it to bleed. The human then ran to a nearby pallet, and slammed it down on my head as I was about to hit him. I grunted, and stumbled backwards. It hurt, but it hurt something else inside me much more. I slammed my foot on the pallet, breaking it into pieces with two kicks. I continued the chase. Suddenly, I had an idea. I pulled out my chain, and swung it around my head, and threw one end at the human survivor. The chain wrapped around the survivor's leg, and pulled him to the ground. It was at this point I realized what I was doing. "Stop it!" I told myself. But I didn't. I couldn't control myself. I fought, and fought, but to no avail. Eventually, I pulled the survivor close to me, and stabbed the blade of my shovel through its neck, decapitating it. I gave up fighting. The pleasure of the kill. It was overwhelming. I shook, terrified. What had I become? Who did this to me? I had little care, as I looked for more survivors, almost as if it had become a habit, then and there.../p