Zachary opened his eyes to the dim light of the morning. As memory returned to him, he hoped dearly that what memories he had were just a nightmare. But the pain in the skin of his face and hands were real- burns from the fire the man had thrown at him- and the molten plaster on the wall above his mattress where the plasma rifle struck were real too. The memories of the events felt real enough, perhaps save for where he had fought and killed the man. But the memories leading up to and following that event were undeniable, which meant that the adjoining memory must be true too. With the weight of this grim reality pressing down on him, Zachary sat up, put his head in his hands and cried. The last time he had cried had been a few days after the cataclysm, when realisation that he could likely never get out and see his home or family again hit him. The reason this murder struck him more than the stabbing of the boy last week was because while Kaa'is had done everything in the first murder, it was Zachary who had killed the man in the second. He cried for the deed he had committed, and cried for the loss, even partial, of himself to the demon who lived inside his head.

Right on cue, Kaa'is announced himself with a theatrical yawn and greeted Zachary with an inappropriate amount of cheer. [b][i]Good morning, Zachary. I feel great! The best I have for over a year, in fact.[/i][/b]

Zachary's despondency turned to rage as his attention turned to the demon which had caused him this misery. He swatted at the air around his head and shouted, "Get out of my head! Damn it, I don't want anything to do with you!"

Kaa'is chuckled soothingly in response. [b][i]Pipe down, Zachary,[/i][/b] he crooned, [b][i]The damage is already done, and I'm not going anywhere.[/i][/b] This did nothing to calm Zachary, who banged his fist on the wall as if hitting something might get at Kaa'is. It didn't, but it did work as a bit of cathartic release and the pain from hitting his hand against the wall distracted him from the pain in his mind.

[b][i]Now, we've got some work to do today. We need to get that food from the military,[/i][/b] Kaa'is reminded Zachary, [b][i]We should also pick up what we dropped last night.[/i][/b]

The reminder of last night caused Zachary to cringe. He was trying to drive it from his memory, but to no avail. He recalled that last night he had dropped his jacket on the ground and that he had not picked up the plasma rifle. Begrudgingly he got to his feet and made his way to where he had left his jacket. It was in the ground in a heap, but it had numerous large charred holes burned into it. Not irreparable, but that would need more jacket material and he didn't have much of that. He sighed, realising that he would not be able to wear it until it was fixed. He picked it up gingerly and slowly placed it on his workbench. He was stalling for time, trying to avoid the next item.

But he could not stall forever. The plasma rifle was incredibly valuable, so he could not afford to lose it. But retrieving it would mean that he would have to revisit the scene from last night. Eventually, he gathered himself enough to go and get it. The corridors were much easier to navigate now that he had been able to grab his torch as well. After rounding a few corners, he eventually came around another corner and his torchlight fell on a horrific sight. Blood was splattered across the floor, with a few stray splashes on the walls, but that wasn't even the worst part. On the floor lay a corpse. Its chest was partially caved in, with the shirt's original colour lost to that of dried blood. And its head was shattered, the face gone and blood and brain squeezed through the broken skull. The stench of blood and death filled his nostrils as the sight filled his eyes.

Zachary averted his gaze and torchlight as he bent over and retched. He would have actually thrown up if he had eaten recently. During the night he had been fortunate enough to have the monochromatic shadows to obscure the true horror, but now under full light all was revealed and he could see the full extent of the damage he did. Zachary could not bring himself to look at it, and he doubted whether he really could have done that. The thought that he could have horrified him. Zachary could not bring himself to look back, instead settling to grab the rifle telekinetically from behind his back and walking off. And as he prepared to go out and collect food he could not remove the image from his mind, nor the thought which nagged him and pulled him down. [i]What have I become?[/i]