Grrrrr. What was this? The cold press of morning slapping him out of sleep. Out of another dimension? His surroundings foreign by sight. The smell. The sounds all crashing in and out like waves. Gargled under the spectrum of nowhere except Earth. On the crust of the planet through the dimension he popped up like a newly sore zip. The ache of his head kept the blanket over his face. Huddling between the sheets as cover. His protection to assess the damage all around. Did his thrusting into it all cause damage? The first sign of trouble was any inconsistent details of stepping through a fold created all on his own. He thought he was summoned by a group of wannabe satanists not understanding their power and who they actually were asking to appear after a sacrifice.

He made plenty and gain the same in return. It brightened around him again. A flash of sorts and the tense pain increased as they showed him passing flashes of a memory. A long way to adjust from the flames he walked from into this new hole where hell was molded into a crafty nerd of a man with deeply rooted issues. He could make due with. Find out more about the loaned body when he was without his own. Nothing made the correct amount of sense. To be human meant too many cliches and other off putting baggage to wrestle with and his dense space occupied where it freely could be lend working through them. Aggregation and total impulse to burn the entire room out goaded along. Lack of eruption poised questions and his roll from the bed was a crash on the floor. A roll into the nightstand, knocking over a lamp.

Items tossed and took off. Each landing was a shooting pain from ears to head and his exhausted groan worked up a disruption so loud that scratches to his door alerted of a presence he couldn't describe. Hellions, the demonic minions that supported and praised his rule over a realm only the tortured belonged to and the rest just happened to be there for. Slowly he rose. Not by strength. Not by the conjuring illusion of sorcery. Nor from the manifestations of new limbs, but by the weak motor functions pirated. He felt a little out of touch and out of shape. The gut or dad bod was full in effect. How could anyone live this way? That scratching at the door made his teeth grit, wanting to gnash violently in protest to the sound of madness filling his head.

Nowhere to run from or stop it. How to control it all and what it meant presently. He walked in a zombie formation. Dragging feet across the floorboards. Shuffling slowly to the door. Wincing each time claws wanted to dig into the door. His loaner should be livid, pouring outrage over more of his property being claimed by the rodent looking feline on the other side but he couldn't help but feel compassion and a mixture of other feelings that were outlandish. Preposterous were his combined thoughts and heighted sensitivity to everything going on around him.

His surprise was met behind the door until opened in revealing a launching cat in his direction. On the hissing trail and swiping at his shin. He caught the nail into skin at one go and hopped back. Blurring out curses to be banned or made into a slurry of sorts for the general of his demon army. A man and hairless cat once and possibly still remained the symbolism for highly regarded creatures in some cultures, especially through ancient Egyptian knowledge. Looking down while backing away, he held out a hand. His sign of forfeit by being on the attack for no reason. Sunday was special, was it not? Maybe the owner forgot to feed the damn thing and as his eyes widened the two had a stand off.

The cat sensed danger or was just this way with a man who only picked up someone else's responsibilities? Maybe he didn't want the cat. It was an obligation. Who would love what hurts? His stillness and unquiet thinking would lead to the different forms of love and the way humans sometimes stayed for the pain masked as love because they didn't have anything else anchoring them down. Ruled by insecurities and bad experiences that logged in time as a cycle was committed over and over again. He backed up again and away, now hiding into the bathroom. The feline was left to his own devices, and it mean stalking the halls instead of gearing for an attack on a stranger.

Darkness was driven out by the blinding light. He found the nearest mirror and prodded his cheek, his face in general to examine this new form taken. Pits of his eyes were full of life and not death with intent to pursue to prey on the weak. He saw considerable amount of worth to live for but a hidden passage covered by fabricated stories to hide away past ills or mistreatment. He tried to read his current fixation with singledom but there was an honest front near a place of being lonesome as regret played heavily in feeling down about this other self. Face was stretched in front of the mirror. Pulling at cheeks, pushing the brow upward. Patting his face frantically before it all stopped.

Hands took to the medicine cabinet and mirror with the aim to pull it from the wall but his human strength lacking any peak conditioning, was bound by restrictions. He snarled and howled from frustration and the incontrollable urge to fall through the ground to his own 'Hell'. For the aware slap to the face, snapping out of it would do little favors trying to learn of this human's steps. He barely could find the name as a reach of memories were blended along with his own. Pulling apart one from another was deepening the agony in his head, the one now occupied and he had been in charge of.

Water soothed for a short time and he stepped away to figure this out with an elaborate start. He tried to crank the shower on with a couple of tries before it shot out its hot water. Steam would take care of the haziness after water reached peak temperature. The warmth that passed on through the bathroom was better than feeling a smidge sorry for self and this current of a mistake. The week itself was going to be days of discovery without fail as some confidence snuck in the forefront.