I don't know when you're going to hear this, but I can tell you when it started.

I was out for a walk alone in the woods when the entity came for me.

It was beyond a blur.

It was, for lack of a better term, absence of meaning.

Where it hid, there were no trees.

Where it crept closer, there was no grass.

Through the arch it leapt at me.

There was no breeze of motion.

There was no air at all.

As it struck, I felt the distinct sensation of claws puncturing me somewhere unseen, somewhere

I'd never felt before.

My hands and arms and legs and torso seemed fine, and I wasn't bleeding, but I knew I'd

been injured somehow.

As I fearfully ran back home, I could tell that I was less.

I was vaguely tired, and it was hard to focus at times.

The solution at that early stage was easy.

A big cup of coffee helped me feel normal again.

For a while, that subtle drain on my spirit became lost in the ebb and flow of caffeine

in my system.

You could say my life began that week, actually, because that was when I met Mar.

She and I got along great, though, to be honest, I'm pretty sure I fell in love with

her over the phone before we even met.

...