Judgment of Heaven is Waiting for Me

He's been using me. I've killed for him. Killed so many people. I have no way of knowing with absolute certainty, but this is most likely what happened to me during the several years I've forgotten.

I don't know how, but I eventually managed to resist his influence, and regained consciousness.  But not control over my body. I witnessed what I had become with no way of stopping it. Watched in horrors as my body killed on his command. Watched in horror as I became a lifeless husk in the oppressive darkness of the basement of the Rossman house when I was in between kills. Watched in horror as he . . .

After several nights which felt like a nightmare that never ends, I could feel his hold over me start to slip away. He had been coming to get me, to prepare me for another kill. He'd put that accursed mask, featureless save for eye holes, over my face and given me my knife, when he turned with a start at the sound of footsteps behind him. Dirk Rossman appeared from out of the shadows and approached Derek with malicious intent.

"No. I killed you." Derek turned and looked at me, pointing at the figure in front of us. "Liz, you know what to do."

I started to walk forward, compelled by his power, when a voice sounded from the darkness that said "this is my house, Derek. You have no power here, my brother." The voice spoke with such authority that I stopped in my tracks.

"I gave you an order, Liz." Desperation crept into his voice as he spoke. "You want your sister back, right? Kill him, and I can bring her back."

I remained still, for a second. My sister was gone. I had accepted that.  Trying to find her on Derek's suggestion is what led to him enthralling me. I slowly stepped forward as these thoughts filled my mind. As I raised my knife, the apparition of Dirk vanished, leaving only Derek and myself, now freed and again in control of my body.

I rushed him. Painted the basement with his blood. He tried to fight back. Couldn't. Died in terror to the object of his obsession.

He tried to speak. His last words aren't worth repeating.

Before I knew it, I was out in the park, watching as the house began to splinter and fall in on itself.  Without a Rossman to maintain it, the house could no longer exist. I turned to leave.

It was only when I got back to my apartment that I remembered that I was still wearing the mask and was covered in blood. I can hear sirens approaching; I guess someone saw me. I'm writing this all down before they get here. Whether they believe it or not, I accept my fate.