But… I don’t remember…

The rain pounded against the windows of the small apartment, the relentless storm outside mirroring the chaos inside Detective James Mathis’s mind. His hands trembled as he stared down at the blood-soaked knife in his grip, its cold steel glinting under the dim light of the room. Time seemed to stretch, each second dragging out as the horror of the situation slowly sank in.

On the floor before him lay Sarah, his long-time girlfriend, her lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Blood pooled around her, staining the worn carpet a deep crimson. Her once-vibrant face was now pale, marred by multiple knife wounds that had carved deep into her flesh. The love of his life, was brutally murdered—and he was the one holding the weapon.

“No… no, this can’t be real,” James whispered, his voice cracking as the words left his mouth. He dropped the knife, stumbling backward until his back hit the wall. The impact jarred him, but nothing could shake the growing dread inside him.

He had lost time again.

For as long as he could remember, James had suffered from blackouts—periods where he would lose hours, sometimes even days, with no memory of what he had done or where he had been. It had started after his time in the army, where the horrors of war had fractured his mind. The doctors had called it Dissociative Identity Disorder, a condition where multiple personalities developed as a way to cope with trauma.

But this… this was beyond anything he had ever feared.

James’s mind raced, fragments of his life crashing together in a chaotic whirl. He had been chasing a serial killer for the past two years, a ghost that had haunted the city and claimed over thirty lives. Every time he got close to solving the case, new information would emerge, or another victim would be found, throwing him off the trail. It was as if the killer was always one step ahead, playing with him, taunting him.

But now, staring at the blood on his hands, the terrible truth began to unravel before him. The missing time, the sudden blackouts, the inexplicable feeling of dread whenever he closed in on the case—it all made sense now.

He was the killer.

“No… no, this isn’t me,” he muttered, shaking his head violently as if trying to dislodge the idea from his mind. But the evidence was right there, in the blood on his hands, in the body of the woman he loved lying motionless on the floor.

James sank to his knees, tears mixing with the blood that smeared his clothes. He had always known there was something dark inside him, a presence that lurked in the shadows of his mind, waiting for a chance to take control. But he had never imagined it could be this—a monster capable of such unspeakable horrors.

He had named the presence “Tommy,” after a fellow soldier who had died beside him in the war. Tommy had been everything James wasn’t—ruthless, cold, and unfeeling. It was Tommy who took over during the blackouts, Tommy who committed the murders while James’s conscious mind was locked away, unaware of the carnage unfolding.

But now, it was all coming back to him in terrifying clarity. The memories, buried deep in his psyche, were clawing their way to the surface. He could see it—the faces of his victims, twisted in fear and pain, the thrill that surged through him as he watched the life drain from their eyes. And Sarah… sweet, loving Sarah, who had trusted him with her life, who had looked at him with love even as the knife plunged into her again and again.

A shudder ran through James as the storm outside raged on, the howling wind and thunder providing a fitting backdrop to the turmoil inside his soul. He knew what he had to do, but the thought of it twisted his stomach with nausea.

He needed to turn himself in, to confess to the murders, to end the terror that he had unknowingly unleashed upon the city. But the idea of walking into the police station, facing his colleagues—men and women who had trusted him, who had called him a hero—was almost too much to bear.

But he had no choice. The monster inside him had to be stopped, even if it meant destroying himself in the process.

James staggered to his feet, his eyes never leaving Sarah’s lifeless form. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking as fresh tears streamed down his face.

He took one last, long look at her, committing her to memory before turning and walking out into the storm. The rain washed away the blood on his hands, but it couldn’t cleanse the guilt that now consumed him.

As he walked through the empty streets, James felt Tommy stirring inside him, a dark presence that he could no longer ignore. The monster was still there, lurking, waiting for another chance to take control. But this time, James wouldn’t let it.

He would end it, once and for all, before any more innocent lives were lost.

And if it meant losing his own life in the process, then so be it.