Tired. So unbelievably tired. My head feels as though it's filled with cotton batting, all my senses wrapped in gauze. Christ, how I long for sleep. To curl in Morpheus's arms, even for but an hour or two. We know, that can't be though. At least not yet. Not until they find a cure. Oh, that's rich, a CURE! As if some tiny little blue or red or purple pill can make this ALL better! What about a shot? Sure a shot of some sort would do the trick - if there's an air-bubble in the damn needle! Why can't you understand? I AM THE ILLNESS! Every time, you force me to rest, another one dies. I MURDER THEM! You can subdue my body, but my mind can't be stopped! Not with drugs. Don't furrow your brow at me, as if I am some raging lunatic. You've the statistics and my dream journals right there in that damn folder! Cross reference them you idiot! I have! Word for word, every death is outlined in those journals. How could I have written them if I hadn't committed - THAT'S my POINT, you bloody sot! It's my freakin mind doing it, NOT my body! It doesn't matter that you had me in a padded cell at the time, or heavily sedated. I don't know WHY my mind seeks to kill, to rip out throats and gorge itself on human blood. I don't know how it picks the victims even. I only know, I sleep, I dream, and there is another horrible mutilation. When I discovered the correlation, I went to the police. They in turn contacted you. And you - you shake your head and think, "Poor soul. Really has gone off the trolley." Totally dismissing, the facts you yourself have scrawled in that damn folder! How can you so blindly dismiss the obvious? On the days you had me out to lunch with God knows what drugs, people were killed. On the 'test' days, when you allowed me to stay awake, they lived. Can it get any plainer? Yes...Yes, I know I can only go so long without sleep. But...You tried that. Electroshock didn't work. It only served to anger the monster. Three died that time instead of one. Well, I don't know what else to call it. It's a monster, a fiend, a - Why can't you just do as I ask? Just allow me to die, and take my chances with God? Please. No! Get away from me! Don't! No! Don't make me sleep! Get that damn needle away-
You must be the new Doctor. Yes, I'm aware Dr. Berheart was murdered. Yes, he was with me when it happened. I told him not to make me sleep, I couldn't save him then. Of course, I knew what would happen. I wrote about it in my dream book, but he wouldn't listen. Will you?
