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The front door is still shut. When I test it, it’s also locked. Weird. I must have been out completely cold with that drug. That’s definitely going to be a problem later on, if users pass out so completely that all hell can break loose around them without them being able to respond to the danger.

This day has been the best and shittiest day of my life. I’m no longer crippled, but the love of my life still doesn’t want me, and someone has it in for me. I can’t imagine who. I’m not the sort of man who makes enemies. I’m inoffensive. I’m quiet. I’m kind. This… this isn’t fair and it doesn’t make sense.

I notice that I’m clenching my hand, squeezing the blood between my knuckles. I have a lot of cleaning up to do.

I do my best to clear a path through the destruction, get cleaned up myself, and go and report the problem to the superintendent. He’s a good guy. He wants to call the cops when he sees the state I’m in, but something tells me I shouldn’t do that. Not yet.

“The cameras must have the guy,” I say. “Can we check them?”

He agrees to pull up the footage. What we see is not what I want to see. It’s so weird that I’m not sure I understand what I’m looking at.

Someone left my apartment hours ago. I don’t recognize him, but I do notice that his clothing looks familiar. He’s wearing my favorite shirt. I tend to dress on the loose side, but it’s tight on him. He also has my shoes and my… oh, shit.

“Okay,” I sigh. “That’s my jerk cousin. Sorry to bother you.”

“No problem, man,” the super says. “Take it easy.”

I go back to my apartment and start cleaning up. I wasn’t asleep. It occurs to me that I might not actually have slept at all since I took the first dose of Regenermax.

The hairs on the back of my neck start to rise as a potential possibility lays itself out in my mind. What if it isn’t that the drug knocks the user out completely? What if the drug acts as a powerful dissociative? It’s almost impossible to tell effects like that with rats. They can’t tell you when they’ve forgotten who they are. A rat is a rat whether he knows it or not. And so is a man, but…

I have to go to the bathroom.

When I touch my penis, I notice something. It’s sticky. I lift my hand to my nose. What the hell. My cock smells like sex. And not the smell of cum spilled in self-satisfaction. There’s female scent on it too. Pussy.

I’ve been fucking someone.

I finish up, wash my hands, and go back to cleaning. My mind is whirring with possibilities. If I’ve been going out and having sex with people, if I’ve been changing enough in my physical form to be almost unrecognizable… then I could have been doing almost anything.

It’s frightening and exciting. Exciting to know that the Regenermax works. Frightening because I have no memory. As I clean, I formulate a plan. I’ll take another dose, and I’ll mix it with enough Adderall to make sure I can’t possibly fall asleep. Hopefully that will stop the dissociative fugue I seem to have slipped into the last two times.

With the kitchen clean enough to prepare my materials, I powder a tablet and add it to the vial. This is an experiment at the very fringes of science. I hope this plan to keep my conscious mind in control works, otherwise I’ve given the beast who takes over when I dose myself even more energy to wreak havoc with.

I tip my head back, toss the Regenermax down my throat. The dose rushes through my blood. It’s pure strength. Feels like it’s being yanked straight from the core of the earth and mainlined through my veins.

Everything is so clear.

It is as if a veil lifts in my mind. I remember things in a way that is almost as if I never forgot them at all. I have known all this from the beginning. It’s just, without the dose coursing through my veins, my pathetic day-to-day mind was too frightened to acknowledge them. My miserable former self couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the memory of what I can now do—and that is fuck Briarlee. Fuck her long. Fuck her hard. Fuck her the way I always wanted to fuck her, but would never have admitted. If this monster memory is correct, she loves every moment of it. She has creamed my cock just as much as I have filled her pussy. And just as I didn’t recognize myself, she doesn’t recognize me either. I know her, but she doesn’t know me at all. Because she thinks of Daniel as the pathetic boy who has to be content with being her friend. Not the man who fucks her like the primal simple slut she likes to be.

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