Trigger warnings: self-harm.

The Wolf was angry and roaring at midnight, while She slept. Bill tossed and turned - it will go away, it will go away - but the scars burned, they burned, and he found no rest.

The shower was easier - turned to frigid - but the Wolf screamed in his head, and breathing hurt.

In the shower, he could see himself, and he didn't look like a Monster: Pale, Tall, Skinny, Freckles - but there were the scars, angry and red, and they made him.

The burning returned, and he was shivering. Could one die of hypothermia whilst their insides were burning?

The Wolf wanted to run, so he ran - down the stairs, out the front door, along the beach, through the trees.

Naked and wild as the Wolf raged, trashed at His walls - his skin.

Oh! if only the burning would stop -

The Wolf roared in frustration and Bill screamed in agony, falling to the ground.

Enough.

.

A knife and mirror, that is all that is needed. The kitchen knife would do, and he stood once more before the full length bathroom mirror. The shower seemed pointless now. He was covered in sand, leaves, mud -

His reflection mocked him: She - beautiful, beautiful, always beautiful - had married this?

A Monster.

She had caught him looking once, and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Mirrors don't show what's inside of you," she whispered against his neck, leaving a kiss there and smiling at him in the mirror. He had smiled back, and she turned away and didn't see it fade.

She was right. They didn't.

That was the problem. How could he fight something he couldn't see?

You can't.

His eyes met those of his reflection, and they were ringed in shadows. She would be worried, in the morning. If the night ever ended.

But - Oh! - the scars marred his face, red and ugly. A reminder.

They were always reminding; it was their only job.

They have another: to seal the gates, always restricting, always restraining -

And maybe if they were opened...

The one high up on the right side of his chest was first - plunge, purge - and he bit his lip until he tasted blood.

The doctors said his body would heal when the scars formed, but it'd been years and he was still broken.

Deeper -

Harder -

On the fourth, he had to stop and breathe. The blood mixed with the mud, and he was in agony -

The water purged the filth, but the cold burned in a new way.

Wash Him out, purify, purge -

Purge -

But the Wolf remained, and there was pain and cold, too, so he dried himself off and returned to the mirror.

He looked the same, but blood gushed and refused to quit. It was the Wolf leaving - he was sure.

So he watched it trail down his skin, and then wiped it away and returned to Her.

She turned to him in the darkness as the mattress shifted. "You okay?" She mumbled, sleep coating Her voice and Her mind.

"I'm fine," he answered with a smile, kissing Her cheek.

"M'kay." She accepted the answer because why would he lie to Her?

She would wake to blood-stained sheets.

Review?

For the Interesting Words Challenge: "eccedentesiast" - someone who only pretends to smile; "cicatrize" - to heal by the process of forming scars.

For the Star Light Star Bright Challenge: Black Hole- This is the last stage in a star's life, when everything around it is absorbed by them. Write about obsession. Alternatively, write about the destruction of something.