The Universe's Mixer

The girl...

She had been just a girl. No older than sixteen. Dexter had only seen it after he'd killed her. Never in his life would he have hurt a kid of his own volition. This was wrong. It was outside of his norm, even when taking his norm to the extreme as he had been doing. She was innocent. She hadn't hurt anybody. And she was a kid.

It didn't help matters at all that she was also monstrous. Literally. She exhibited on the outside how he felt on the inside. Though, upon passing a window while in this sulking, self doubting mood, Dexter noticed that he too was not a normal human on the outside.

What had he become?

He had become his dark passenger.

This was not what he wanted. He didn't want freedom to do as he desired if this is what it came to. The changes. The killing of innocent little girls.

The knife in his hand felt differently now. Like a curse rather than a gift.

He needed to find that store again. He needed to talk to the shop girl. He needed to make this all go away.