William had been holed up in his dimly lit office for what felt like an eternity, the passage of time marked only by the dwindling supply of coffee and the ever-growing collection of empty whiskey bottles scattered around the room. The air was thick with the scent of stale caffeine and alcohol, mingling with the musty odor of books and papers piled high on every available surface.

His once sharp mind had dulled, frayed at the edges by the relentless pressure of his current project—a task that had consumed him entirely, leaving no room for anything else. The relentless pace had taken its toll. William's eyes, bloodshot and sunken, stared unblinkingly at the screen in front of him, the words blurring together as his exhaustion deepened. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for another cup of coffee, the bitter liquid doing little to stave off the overwhelming fatigue that weighed him down. His thoughts, once clear and focused, now swirled in a chaotic mess, his mind teetering on the edge of collapse.

It wasn't just the physical exhaustion that plagued him; the psychological toll was far greater. William had always been a man of dark thoughts, but where he once found a grim satisfaction in controlling them, now they loomed larger, more insistent. The violent urges that simmered beneath the surface had grown stronger with every sleepless night, gnawing at his sanity. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep them at bay, to maintain the thin veneer of civility that separated him from the monster lurking within. But the strain was beginning to show. His interactions with others, already infrequent, had become downright hostile. His patience, once his greatest asset, had worn thin, replaced by a simmering aggression that he struggled to contain. A simple question, a well-meaning gesture—anything could set him off, his responses laced with venom as he lashed out at those who dared interrupt his work. He was one more whiskey away from doing something he shouldn't.