HOME | DD

Description
Sitting alone in my run-down apartment, paint pealing from the walls and garbage littering the floor like a street in the center of a bustling metropolis. I had rented this apartment for my latest job, a man that was getting to big for his britches in my employers eye. now as I sit alone in the middle of the decrepit floor, wearing my last clean pair of Earth brown cargo shorts, not even bothering with a shirt, due to the heat. As I sit meditating on the latest job, the voices start.
They are the voices of everyone I have hurt. Every time I am alone or find any small slice of happiness or peace they start, first just whispers until the voices rise into an unbearable cacophony. Even know voices and images flash before me. A hostage begging for her life. Me stabbing a civilian in the back just because he was in the kill zone. A knife slicing cleanly through a throat. Executions by hanging. Screams for mercy. The sickening smell of blood. As the sounds and memories assault my mind, I can feel my grip on sanity slipping until I finally give into the visions, as the darkness surounds me I feel tears start to flow from my eyes and I become dead to the world.

Here's another first person narrative into the mind of my fursona. On the outside he is a cold calculating assassin. But when he's alone he is haunted by those he has killed.

He never wanted this. Not this....

Description
Sitting alone in my run-down apartment, paint pealing from the walls and garbage littering the floor like a street in the center of a bustling metropolis. I had rented this apartment for my latest job, a man that was getting to big for his britches in my employers eye. now as I sit alone in the middle of the decrepit floor, wearing my last clean pair of Earth brown cargo shorts, not even bothering with a shirt, due to the heat. As I sit meditating on the latest job, the voices start.
They are the voices of everyone I have hurt. Every time I am alone or find any small slice of happiness or peace they start, first just whispers until the voices rise into an unbearable cacophony. Even know voices and images flash before me. A hostage begging for her life. Me stabbing a civilian in the back just because he was in the kill zone. A knife slicing cleanly through a throat. Executions by hanging. Screams for mercy. The sickening smell of blood. As the sounds and memories assault my mind, I can feel my grip on sanity slipping until I finally give into the visions, as the darkness surounds me I feel tears start to flow from my eyes and I become dead to the world.

Here's another first person narrative into the mind of my fursona. On the outside he is a cold calculating assassin. But when he's alone he is haunted by those he has killed.

He never wanted this. Not this....