NARRATOR

Elliot ran like a madman, barefoot, with no direction.

He didn’t feel the sharp stones or the scratches on his bare torso from the jagged branches in his path.

Sweat dripped from him, his breathing erratic.

He collapsed onto the soft grass in the middle of the dense forest. His entire body burned, as if his temperature kept rising endlessly.

His bones cracked in a strange way. He arched his back into a fetal position, enduring the painful tremors in his muscles.

With clawed hands, he clutched his head, which throbbed as if thousands of burning nails were piercing his skull.

His heart pounded so fast he thought it would explode, that he’d die right there.

He clutched his chest, his nails digging into his strong pectorals. Something inside him clawed to break free, to take control, to command his will—but he resisted.

He always resisted. The only time he hadn’t was that night.

He didn’t know exactly what had happened, but it had been something very similar; he lost control comp