Katurian scrambled onto his hands and knees, panting and wheezing. The cold air burned his lungs.

He recognized this voice. He knew who this was.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, because it seemed like the only thing he could say. He was wrapped up in a private horror, in a nightmare where he was the monster that crawled out from under the bed, his nails and teeth long like knives. He was the bogeyman. He was the murderer. The blood pounded in his ears, thunderous and unending. "I'm so sorry."