I wasn't always like this, you know - paranoid, temperamental, vindictive.

I mean, sure, I've always been a bit... high strung. But I never used to stalk my therapist patients. Or yell at them. Or hold them captive in my garage.

No, all of that started after the incidents at Lonesome Woods Boarding School.

And I'm not talking about the school shooter.

This was something far more insidious - something... infectious. Like a cancerous disease that tore through the student body, rotting young hearts one by one.

But mental illness can't do that.

Can it?

I came into this profession optimistic and ready to help. I was young, naive, and eager find to the glimmer of good in every patient.

But after Lonesome Woods, I began to search for evil instead.