I killed ten Blood Spillers in one night.

I crept into their hangout and slit each one of their throats as they slept. One of them heard my footsteps and nearly woke up, but I silenced him before he could alert the others. I gorged myself on their sticky soul fragments for hours and absorbed every last ounce of energy I could from them.

I kept thinking I should feel disgusted with myself, but I didn't. I didn't know why. When I looked at the dead Blood Spillers in their beds, all I could think about was how I wanted to kill even more of them. I recognized something was wrong with me, but I couldn't figure out what it was. My head felt foggy.

I realized something. I didn't think of my victims as people. They were just pieces of psychic meat, warm sacks stuffed with blood, flesh, and soul fragments. That thought made me sick. What was happening to me?

My body was covered in dried blood. The room reeked of death and the stench turned my stomach. I was done eating. I wiped my blade off on a bedsheet and sauntered out the door. The sun was rising and it transformed the clouds into flaming banners of red, pink, and purple. I shivered and pulled my coat tight around me as I stepped outside onto the desolate street.

Although I should have been satiated, I craved soul fragments even more than before I fed. It wasn't enough and I wanted more, but it was too dangerous to go hunting in the open. I itched all over, my stomach churned, and I felt feverish. I walked back home and tried to ignore the hunger growing inside me, even as it screamed for my attention.

I locked myself inside the apartment and collapsed on my bed, omitting my normal bedtime routine entirely. I lay there in bed staring at the ceiling for hours without moving an inch. I dozed off at some point, then woke up again in the middle of the day with a strange energy coursing through my body. I filled in the missing entry in my journal before getting out of bed.

When I went to the bathroom to get my day started, I examined my soul in the mirror with my psychic vision to see my progress. I realized that my powers were getting stronger at a faster rate than I could have ever anticipated.

When I first returned to the Pit, my soul looked like a ball of brownish-red goo that looked like it was made from hardened mud, writhing and twisting with furious motion. It was so disgusting I could barely stand to look at it, but it changed as I fought more and absorbed soul fragments. It was now an amalgamation of dried mud in varying mismatched shades of brown that had taken on a vaguely human shape. It was bulging with power and moaning in agony. It seemed like it would tear itself apart at any moment. It was crying out for more power... it wanted to change even further.

I couldn't help but smile. As my spiritual form grew larger and more complex, my psychic power would grow stronger and easier to control. My body was changing too and was growing capable of containing more and more soul fragments inside of it. I stared at the monster in the mirror and shivered with excitement. I was transforming into something beyond human, and I was just getting started. What would I be capable of in a year? Two years? Would I still be me, or would my power change me somehow? Maybe I was already...

I shook my head and cleared my mind of doubt. This was what I needed. I needed to be strong. I needed to keep pushing myself.

I continued hunting criminals. By the end of the week, I developed the ability to release my psychic energy and use it as a weapon. I couldn't fully control it yet, but by guiding it with my fingers I could destroy small objects. Regularly using my powers and experimenting with them on different targets became part of my normal routine. I had to manage a much larger pool of power before I lost everything and had to start over, so manipulating what I had now was relatively easy. I kept practicing, making sure to go slowly so I didn't harm myself. My development and growth would be the foundation for the happiness of my future life. I needed to be patient.

The promise of the future was enough to keep me working hard at improving every day. The Pit really was a place full of hope, as dirty and disgusting as it was. Any time I wanted, morning, noon, or night, I could wander the streets of the city and hunt for as much psychic meat as desired. I woke up every day with a bright smile on my face, eager to kill and develop my powers further. I had a lovely apartment, charming friends, and limitless potential for growth. I could hardly ask for more.