Monsters start at coffee

It had to be done.

The last thing Tom saw before pain enclosed his whole body was Tord's worried face. The hybrid's vision turned black, his senses were brutally ripped from his being, and there was no control left of what he was doing.

The monster was back, an all too familiar feeling.

After what felt like hours - there was no way to know, time stretched and distorted in his mind - he felt the rush stopping, his vision and olfate slowly returning, but instead of pure air, it was the smell of blood that invaded his nose. Not his blood though. In his front laid a woman, eyes glazy and body limp. Dead. And when the hybrid finally dared to look down at his hands, formerly clean, they were covered with the so dreaded red liquid, that dripped down on his clothing. The realization seeped in quickly as Tom began to tremble, feeling the familiar taste of bile rise up to his throat.

He let nature have it's way, purging everything in his stomach out on the ground. There wasn't much, since he hadn't eaten anything at all, all day, Vomiting had become such part of his routine, yet he couldn't ever get used to it, and everytime would be as bad as the first. Looking around, panicking, he didn't recognize the place, but the sound of sirens was more than enough to show for how big of a trouble he was in.

- Spectacular. - Tom murmured in a sarcastic tone without even thinking, and ran away, into the woods.

Actually, running is too strong of a word pto describe that sad walk he did. Every step made his whole being hurt, remembering him of what he had just done. Were he was going? Not even Tom knew. The only thing in his mind was the need to go away from that girl - that corpse. Eventually, the pain was too much to bear, and his legs gave up under his body, the impact with the ground harsh, earning him a few scratches.

This was one of the times Tom wishes he could vanish from this plane of existence. Or turn back on time. It's also in those moments that he realizes just how much people underestimate just being fine. Just being alive or just being normal. If this hadn't happened to him, if Tord didn't experiment with him, he'd be complaining about something trivial, or arguing with the norwegian about some bullshit that doesn't even matter. Of course, he'd 100% prefer that, but maybe now he'd enjoy more life. Not that he can enjoy anything now. Everything that happens is tied to this monstrous thing that isn't even himself. It's almost impossible to know if a thought is his or the thing's anymore. Each day that passes makes his mind more and more irrational, impulsive, confused, and Tom hated it.

Tom didn't even notice the hot tears falling down his face as he laid stiff in the floor, too tired to move. After some time, his eyelids became heavy, and much needed rest was given to his poor body.

Next thing he knows, Tom woke in a shock, his heart pounding inside his chest, as someone restrained him. The hybrid couldn't make sense of what was happening, but felt something being put on top of him. He trashed until light finally made it's way to his black eyes, showing that they had put him in a kind of cage. A cage. Just seeing that made his insides bubble up with anger, the need to scream and hit and kick coming with it. Looking up, he saw two men: one of them, holding a cigarette, had thick eyebrows, and the other had his hair parted in the middle, dramatically curled in the ends. Who were they? That didn't matter, because he wasn't an animal to be caged! Well, not entirely at least.

- Let. Me. Out! - Tom shouted with all of his energy, pounding the bars of his newest jail.

Only after calling those guys about twenty curse words did he calm down - he didn't actually, but at least he stopped screaming and scrambling. Tom's teeth were still clenched, his whole body still tense, but now he could think clearly. One of the people, the weird hair guy, proceeded:

- Sorry. Just stay quiet and we won't hurt you.

Tom didn't answer, instead thinking of a way to get out, as that hyper-inclosed place was edging the thing inside him to come out and finish those two, but he wouldn't let it take control once again, especially after that girl.

When the both of them looked away, apparently discussing something, Tom spotted a chance. In a rage for, he used that newfounded strength - could he actually call it new? It's been weeks since it's been there - and was able to bend the bars just enough so that his body could pass through it. The wind blew his overgrown hair into his face and he couldn't see much, but he was free, and running away.

But as everything that's good has a short life, his freedom also had limited time. One second he ran away, and the other he was in the ground, screaming. It was faster than he could've perceived - the eyebrow man had a gun in his hands and wide eyes, meanwhile Tom had blood trickling down his leg and excruciating pain.

- Paul? What have you done?! - weird hair man shouted to, as it seems, Paul.

That bastard had shot Tom's knee, and it hurt so much the only thing the hybrid could do was applying pressure to the wound in a failed attempt, by instinct, to stop the bleeding. And obviously it didn't work out, because quickly the whole floor was red and he felt himself slowly fade away...

Just to be waken up to see their two faces again. Why was life so insistent in bringing him back? The pair was apparently... Treating him? Opening his eyes, Tom noticed they were, actually, bandaging his shot knee. They didn't seem to notice his awakening, so to avoid more trouble, he pretended to be still asleep.

- Tord is gonna kill you, Paul! He seemed to like this thing. - Tord was involved in this? Of course Tord is involved in this.

- It was by reflex, Patryk!

- So you're saying you shot him perfectly in the knee by accident?

- Maybe?

Patryk groaned.

Tom felt a hand in his horns, and that was, really, embarrassing. The hybrid was letting them treat his knee - it's not like he had any choice though. He couldn't run or stand up or move in any way, not to count the pain that stopped him from even breathing too hard, scared it might make it hurt more. So he has a huge lack of options.

But touching his tail? That was the last straw. He is not downgrading himself that low. Sitting up, he growled at whoever did that, regretting it almost instantly, as his injury burnt at the sudden movement, forcing him to groan in pain.

- Stay away from that. - Tom spoke in between clenched teeth.

They were still in the middle of the forest, the sun indicating it's probably 10AM or something. Still, the hybrid was struggling to stay awake, tired from everything. Both men flinched when he said that, putting their hands away from Tom, and Paul started:

- Tord seemed desperate to find you.

- Of course he is. - Tom answered in that usual sarcastic tone he always used - Trying to fix the mess he's made.

- Can I...? - Patryk reached out to his knee with some gauze. After a period of silence, he continued to patch his knee.

- It's gonna hurt, unless you let Patryk sedate you.

- Then do it. - Tom was way too tired to argue.

He felt the needle into his skin, this time not panicking - Tom, for some reason, didn't feel the need to scurry away from it, maybe it was his tiredness, but something inside him told it was not. Quickly, his consciousness slipped away and he was at peace, finally.