Her name was Kristin, no last name, thank you. She'd been standing in the hot crowded club, with sweat making her shirt clingy black dress cling just a little more to her curves. In the silence, she could relive every moment, every touch from the crowd. His voice brought back the effects afterward, after the drinks. After the drugs had hit her. His voice brought it all back... No one had believed him. Even from a young age, the monsters had been there. In his closet, under his bed, at the foot of the stairs. They'd whispered his name. Tormented his sleep. Haunted the shadows from the corners of his eyes. And while most teens had dealt with bullies, or despicable parents... no one bothered him. He'd have claimed he was blessed... but, the monsters were still there. When he turned eighteen, he'd started on a strict regime of medication. Determined to stamp out the monsters once and for all. And then people began to turn up dead around him.