How can this be?? Nothing makes sense.. You don’t fall out a plane at Ten thousand feet without a parachute and live to tell the tale..
This is not my work, this is not of my doing..
My only power is only one OF prevention by channeling my hosts experiences away from the darkness and molding them into consumable Art..
I am just as powerless, and vulnerable once Malasses fully takes over and I watched helplessly last night as it killed us both.. Yet we are not dead,, it is now daylight and the constant bleeping of the machine plays a steady song of Sadness,, Discomfort and Reflection..
Exhausted a drip pumps a constant flow of lightly coloured liquid through a tube attached deep into his arm as bloodstained bandage seems to mummify the other..,.
He’ is panicking as more details of this new scene slowly materialise into focus as do scattered memories of proceeding events that lead us here to this...,. However unlike yesterday that feeling of absolute disappointment is gone and now been replaced by one of over whelming relief which signifies my arrival...,.
Broken he cries..,.. Through tears he watches as the Universe plays to him a heartbreaking scene from a private performance staged on the bed next to him..,.. Nothing is coincidence..,.. I knew there was more to this...,.
The attack from Malasses was brutal...,.
My host lays broken...,. Already lost and defenseless he submits to me without a fight..,.. Finally it’s my time..,.. I’ll take control but for now he needs rest ready for the long road of recovery ahead...,. Rest my friend,, for I’ll take it from here..
1st March 2016. Ward 7. Bradford Royal Infirmary..