They say when one has sunk to their lowest, there’s nowhere to go but up. Those stupid adages were wrong and always made Connor angry. Lately everything made him angry. One can always sink deeper, and he’d proven that. And the eventual rise after sinking low was false. Connor didn’t think that even though he was lying on the bathroom floor of a dirty hotel room, he was destined to rise up from this low situation. No, he could plummet further. With a mechanical force he leaned his head to the side and eyed the drug responsible for his current high. He never thought he’d graduate to anything harder than cocaine, but he also never thought he’d become a murderous monster. One more dose of the drug sitting a few inches from his head, and things would end. He’d take the final plunge. Leave this world and all his demons behind.
Connor’s eyes fell shut. He’d only left the Lucidite Institute a day ago, but he’d already managed to steal the money to fund his drug debauchery and secure a nasty hotel room in East Los Angeles. The speed he inherited from the wolf inside of him made picking pockets on busy trains too easy. When Connor got off the submarine at the docks, he had only one mission: to ruin himself.
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