There was a reason I hunted all day and night; if I stopped moving, I felt the agony. I remembered the trauma. However, if I kept myself distracted, then I couldn’t remember. Mostly. Gritting my teeth, I rubbed at my tired eyes. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d slept. The problem was the second I lay down, my subconscious tortured me with the heinous memories. So I stayed awake. I didn’t run from my demons. I fed them, and now I was the demon.
