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The pain, the suffering. What for? All those souls who couldve had their ow  redemption without the thought or even aspect of people ruinining it or even taking away every single chance they wouldve had at having a normal or even a second to think about about they've done or who they had wronged. The care and teachings to help these poor men and women into taking their guilt with their own way of handling it. The people who were locked up and caged away because a few people couldn't even do their job to properly and abused their position as a carer and doctor with these people who were sick. Who ARE sick. They needed proper medical attention and the best that they  could do was test on them and what for?  The concept of money is barely an excuse, there had to have  been a way that he could've made his money to become a CEO without exploiting defenseless people who required medical help and attention. Its sick. As a person I couldn't believe that they could look at another human and decide this was a great idea, let alone the consent and what is morally right and what's morally wrong. 

What's worse is there were teens there. There were most definitely teens of all ages, kids whose parents put them their, expecting for their little ones to come out with a fresh mind and feeling much much more...sane. Whether there were children or babies I don't think I even want to know deep down if that thought had or was actually in flourishing. Walrider...Billy was only 19 looking like he had gone through 6 mid life crisis. It wasnt fair, not on him, not on anyone, he was only a child. 

Yeah, maybe some of the people in their deserved their sentence and judgement from the families the affected. No one deserves what happened no matter who you are. Being taken to be experimented on and to lose your option of free will and even the rights and control of your own body. No matter how young or old you are, as long as your body is functional and can work as a shell to protect the mistake and uncontrollable product of scientists and doctors decided was a good idea until it wasnt just their victims that were getting hurt. I used to question the whole thought of hurting and attacking a person, it just didn't seem to click with me as being screwed over wasnt something that happened much. Until I decided it was a great idea to go to that fucked building myself and on my own, I wonder what wouldve changed if I didn't actually visit that damned place. I wouldn't be fucking dead for starters, I wouldn't be missing fingers. I wouldn't be mentally scarred. Probably wouldve lost my job though which wouldve been an insult to injury. Plus the aspect of being a dead man looking for work was difficult. It was difficult to control him sometimes as he would sometimes peek out and make mistakes which would cause incident or even an issue around others. Of course it was horrible but it was his nature which I had to live with. 

After Murkoff...after everything. Escaping that fucking building, dead or alive. To find someone taking my jeep and driving off, where they're going was a fact I wasnt to know, I had no clue who this man was or why he had taken my car mysteriously and just disappeared off out of my sight. Of course it was a pain but it didn't last long as I soon found the car and the man whom I was after for a car. After weeks and months I finally realised it was the man who had sent me the email, the mysterious tip off, the mystery Murkoff whistleblower. He had a family, wife and twi kids but when I found him, he was on his own with a little boy, presumably the youngest of the two boys he had told me about later. I never asked if he was older or not or if the boys were twins, it was a sore subject for the whistleblower and I didn't want to overstep any boundaries or even break any ties or progress I had made. For the first time after all the madness I had made a friend who wasnt scared of me or wasnt suspected to be someone working with whatever was left of Murkoff considering the management was put under heavy construction and clean up. I wonder why.

I had made two friends, the whistleblower and his son. At least one of them, the whistleblower was of course at first hesitant at talking about what had happened and he was stepping on eggshells a,long with his boy. I never harmed them, I couldn't, it wouldn't have been right to do. When I first met his son he his behind his dads leg, scared. I faltered at this, worried I had scared the poor boy but that was soon put to rest after being told he was like this with everyone new and had actually been dying to meet me all week. Which frankly...was amazing. It made me feel amazing about what I was now since he had no issues and the younger had even tried helping a few times when his dad couldn't or if he was struggling. It was nice to have people around him that wasnt the ghost that told him to attack everyone he saw. 

I hadn't known what I had been thinking in most truths. How could I know he was talking the truth about the email. He could've been a Murkoff guard or even someone who worked close to the man he had killed and torn apart from the inside right in front of the man. He could only imagine what Waylon must've felt about feeling and seeing a man get torn to pieces in front of him. He was unsure about what had actually happened to Waylon inside the asylum and he wasn't prepared to push on anything. Waylon still walked around him and even kept a certain amount of distance once talking or engaging in a conversation with him, it made him sick, he was unsure of why. He would even lower his voice if he was talking to him directly. Waylon had offered him a home and a room to stay in besides the fact that he has a child to watch out for, he was young and knew no better about why his dad was normally sneaking around to avoid him. His talking even made him uncomfortable, he was trying too hard not to get attacked  he wasnt scared, he was anxious, he could tell. He had spotted the rare occasion that Waylon had ushered his son in a different direction...which hurt, the kid had seemed to be warming up to him but obviously not. He hadn't had an idea at first as to why he had done this but when he looked in a mirror he realised. Whether Waylon was scared of his or not was up to debate but he would have to discover and find that out for himself.

"Stop staring holes into the table" I heard on my right, of course dozing off at breakfast as always. A little raven haired boy sat opposite, seemingly more interested on the egg on his plate rather than the possessed man opposite him. A blonde male was on my right. He had set down a plate of food for me too. He was sweet, I wasnt even sure if I could eat food anyways but it was still fun to eat and act like a human rather than whatever was inside me. It felt good, being like this, a family around me, a house, food. Yeah, it felt good. 

After months and even weeks of trying to keep on Waylon's good side I hadn't realised that the feelings had actually rooted deeper than what I had expected. We were constantly around each other, we would stay up late making jokes and telling stories to one another to pass the time before we would both separate to go into our own rooms. But still it would pain to fall asleep. I wanted to be by him, no matter what, I wanted to help him all I could and I would ever be able to do. Eventually I manned up and asked the question, which he luckily said yes to. I moved my things into his room and that's how things have and had been since.

"Dad..." a much smaller voice spoke. I looked up, the raven boy had been pointing to his cup and I nudged it closer to him. That was also a bonus, the first time he had called me dad. I tried go hold back tears but I couldn't, he called me dad and it melted my heart, I didn't want to let go of him. He had really come out of his shell from that young boy who hid behind his fathers legs whenever I entered a room.

I could deal with this, yeah, I'm happy.