Puppet Dancing On Strings

I hate myself.

I hate myself.

I HATE MYSELF.

Sophie floated silently in the vast empty space of her amulet as she saw through her eyes the gruesome fates of the remaining mercenaries.

Their cries and pleads for mercy went unanswered as the predator hunting them could no longer understand the concept of restraint.

What had happened to her once the bloodlust had fully taken control of her psyche was a bit odd to say the least.

Sophie was perfectly conscious of her movements and any sensations that her body felt, but it was like being a puppet dancing on strings.

It was almost impossible to describe how it felt to experience both a third-person and a first-person perspective at the same time.

The monster ripping into those freshly killed corpses was… herself. 

Sophie watched silently as her hands became more stained with blood and fleshy chunks of meat fell to the ground.