His body trembled violently, blood running down from various cuts and washing away in the rain. Tyler shuddered under the cold of water and wind, sitting under the roof of the old shack in the woods, the one he’d occasionally steer-clear of while worrying about encountering druggies.

He hated her. Thornhill. Those hands she had. The same ones who’d hurt him in so many different ways. Ways that didn’t always physically hurt. Sometimes the lack made it hurt worse.

He was barely clothed, wrists sore from restrains, a few blisters having formed already. He sniffled, the rain making his tears almost invisible. He couldn’t tell if he was aware or not, brain and body drifting between human and Hyde…

He hated it all.