I’ve done it. I’ve done it!

I have it, here, in my arms. It’s such a tiny thing. So small, defenseless. I could put out its eyes, sunder its limbs, destroy it so completely and utterly. But I won’t. No, it is far too precious a thing for me. Such a creature has never existed, will never exist.

But that’s the horror of it; in my arms lies a thing that defies nature. It is an aberration! A thing to be destroyed, consumed, immolated; flung to the far corners of the earth where not even the rats dare to tread. But I shall not. I could not. It is yet such a tiny thing.

It seems to follow my every thought. Each glance from it bores through my eyes, piercing my consciousness with untold blasphemies. It smiles as I type this, laughs as an amused infant as the horror of my situation finally clutches at my heart. The walls around me join in, seeming as dogs, reading to pounce at any time. I have but to glance through the corner of my eye, and I see them.

I see them.

I see them.

Faceless horrors. In the walls.

I see them.

They push and strain, shifting, phasing, ever-changing. They bite at me, claw at me, roar and snivel under their constraints as they attempt to devour me. Devour, as this was once devoured.

They cry, they shriek. Their plethora of voices, madness and damnation in every tone, rain crashing upon my ears. They wallow and languish in the pain of a hundred despoiled generations, consumed by the flames of their lust and fury, as this was once consumed.

For you see, I have it. I’ve done what they said, and they say truth. There is truth here, a truth that no one creature should ever be forced to bear witness to. A truth that consumes and destroys, a truth that leads all down that darkened path where everything becomes nothing, where the normal is twisted and malformed. That truth which mortal eye can never see. Which can never be seen, not by anyone, not by anything.

That truth is the source of its madness. It is the source of all the horrors that we have done to each other, of all the horrors that I have been forced to bear witness to in my mind.

All, ever since I found it. This, this… this tiny thing. This tiny, precious thing, that glares at me, that chides me, that laughs at me in malevolent hatred and glee.

Oh, how I wish to destroy it! How I wish to see its tiny limbs and tiny heart strewn across my wall!

How I yearn for it!

But I cannot.

I will not.

I have it.

It is mine.

No one shall take it from me.