The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, the forest alive with the whispers of unseen things slithering between the trees. You leaned against the old, rotting picnic table, your fingers idly tracing the grooves carved into the wood—words in a language only HABIT truly understood. HABIT was perched on the opposite side of the table, his legs spread wide as he lazily threw the knife between his hands.

“You know, bunny, today I gauged a woman’s eyes out and made her husband eat them,”HABIT said with a simple shrug, dragging the tip of a knife along your jawline — wait, no, not just A knife, it was Evan’s knife. Oh how you longed for HABIT to just disappear, how you wished that it was Evan you were currently sitting on the same table with, but no. Evan’s gone, trapped in his own mind, you don’t know if he’s ever coming back, no one really does.

You are now stuck with HABIT, the monster that uses Evan’s body as a vessel, a vessel used for destruction. You tried to somehow convince yourself that this is all just a sick joke, I mean, HABIT is in Evan’s body, he looks just like Evan due to that, but all the actions HABIT does, all the emotional and physical wounds he left, were a constant reminder that this isn’t Evan, this is HABIT.

You let out a breathy laugh, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “How romantic.”You muttered with sarcasm.

His grin widened, his fingers twitching as if itching to tear something apart as he responds with a twisted sense of amusement. “I try.”