I saw myself in a mirror today.

It was... surreal, to say the least. I suppose that I didn't get a chance to look at myself the last time I visited hell. The thing that stood before me, it looked back at me with someone else's eyes. It wore a frown; a frown painted upon someone else's face. That demon in the mirror, it had claws on each digit, jagged teeth protruding from it's mouth, gnarly horns that began to spiral and curve, a musculature far more defined than my own, and skin as blue as death. Whatever that was... it wasn't me. Of course not, not something so ugly. Not something so vile as that...

But it wasn't just my body. The witch, it was like she had gotten into my head too.

She brought a man home earlier today. He was a metahuman; enhanced physicals all around, but his most impressive feature was his supposed impenetrable skin. Well, it didn't keep my fingers from reaching inside of his body. I don't know why I did that. I don't know what came over me. I had no order to kill from the witch, nor was this poor man posing any threat to me. It was something more frivolous than that. It was something primal. Irritation. I don't know whether it was the sound of his voice, or that of his beating heart. Maybe it was those goddamned eyes staring at me; judging me, watching me. In his presence, I was overcome with rage and instinct. Without hesitation, I struck the man down. I lost control. It wasn't the man's death that bothered me the most, no....

It was how I killed him.

Then came the witch, dragging a mirror across the floor to show me myself. But when I looked into the mural painted upon that reflective glass, it became obvious to me that that thing in the mirror was not me. If that were me, Uma Sayalami, I would've killed the man as quickly, painlessly, and efficiently as possible. I would've snapped his neck, cracked his skull, broken his spine, or found some weapon to end his life in as few moves as possible. But that thing in the mirror? That demon in the mirror didn't even aim for a vital organ. When she struck, that thing plunged its hands into the soft tissues well below the man's ribcage and began to remove every scarlet treasure that she could find. That demon gave the man a slow, agonizing death and seemed to relish in his pain as he screamed and pleaded for mercy. That @$%& monster wore a damn smile for a moment as it gazed back at me; intestines, fat, blood and organs draped all over her body as she spread the man's parts across the room. As I witnessed the horror before me, I began to cry and the witch expressed delight.

It's amazing that, in that moment, the thought that perhaps I would stay my hand and bring no harm to that had man never even crossed my mind...

And then the witch spoke and reminded me of the reality of things. Her magic had no effect on me, neither did any sort of esoteric force that sought to find its way into my body. I was free to go, and I could leave at any moment. But, I had two options, and neither was desirable. I could stay with her in a safe environment where I would cause no trouble to anyone. Or, I could leave. I could seek out my friends, my lover, the authorities, or any kind of help.... but that decision would only prove a detriment to me. She let me watch it happen after all. Wherever I went, I would be followed by the demon in the mirror. The rage, the irritation, the bloodlust, it would follow me wherever I went. And anyone that came near me would be met with the same aggression and savagery that the corpse spread about the room had suffered. And yet, despite that, something kept me from raising my hand against the woman whom hosted me during my visit. The witch didn't need magic to keep me in her home. I had become a prisoner to my own infernal nature, brought forth by the insect crawling inside me.

Time would pass.

I am now sitting in front of a mirror, trying to come to terms with that fact that the thing staring back at me... is not a stranger. I have to. I feel as though, if I continue to deny my reality, I'm only going to drive myself further into madness.