Knowing that I could see all that surrounded me was never a comforting fact. Light is no more than a glance into one dimension out of thousands. Nobody takes pride in their fear of darkness but it is often times understood, yet fiends do not  search for dark places in our world, there is no reason for hiding when they are invisible to our eyes. Feeling safe when the lights were on was merely a psychological effect, the reality was that I could feel them all around me hissing in my ear, wrapping their long and heavy tails around my neck and finally stabbing me with their fangs and injecting the poison of pure hatred, right there, under the daylight. But mostly I must clarify that they do not intend to corrupt your soul more than to evacuate your body, so that they can take control of what you do. They wander around and they look for empty shells with beating hearts.

It began when the lights were on. At first it frightened me but they promised to please my most hidden desire of revenge for many years of mistreatment. I would stalk my victims and memorize their every move, just like an animal that seeks for its food. In moments of consciousness and reason I would back out of my own plans and attempt to forget the voices that whispered in my ear “go on, we are proud”. When I was done with my revenge they kept asking me to serve their cause. After thinking it through I knew that my actions had been driven by hate and that I had no reason in killing anyone else. Because of this they would take control over my body, so when I woke up I had no memory of what had happened and I was surrounded by corpses and covered in blood, as if I had drained their bodies of the substance and showered in the dense and warm liquid. It seemed like I had adopted the practice and I believed it to be equivalent to a signature, my own masterpiece “hey, see those drained bodies over there, that was me”. Evidently I never said that to anybody and I managed to leave the places in the same way I had arrived, just with less people.

Most of the time I was horrified by my actions, although it would be fair to say their actions, but after a couple of sliced throats there was no need to convince me or force me into killing. It did not make me feel happy, but it made me feel in control, like in some way or another I could beat creator of the game in his own game. Of course I didn’t know the creator and life was far from being a game, but life and death was such an absolute concept that I had to simplify what it meant to me. I became immune to emotions “I have a family” they said “I am sorry for what I did” they said, but taking a life was every time less significant and so I continued seeking what I was not looking for because every glimpse of obscurity or wickedness in my heart excited their demonic minds. Their approval acted like black holes in my integrity and they soon supplanted my soul with depravity, eventually managing to suck the life out of me.

I did not want to upset the spirits because, as far as I knew, they had given me the opportunity to serve them, they had given my life a purpose. After years of insurmountable mocking and uneasiness of mind I bled out while the hot water was running. The metallic smell and diluted blood that stung the raw flesh of my wrists awoke my human sensibility, but it was too late. The irrevocability of my actions seemed unbearable. For the first time in many decades I was alone. Without a doubt, they were always absent when my heart searched for the Invisible Light, the Light that allowed me to see beyond my own eyes, but as soon as I reached any conclusions, they cut the string of our communication. God is what they called Him; deep in my heart I knew Him to be good. I could, for once, feel the pain and heaviness of my conscience as the permanent stain of death was smeared all over my eyes and it finally blinded me, slowly but surely.