That night, I decided to cook dinner for the both of us. Carson was begging me to make my signature lasagna, because I'd been bragging to him about it for a while now. I guess I'd have to give him his way tonight.

I had just put the lasagna in the oven when I heard the TV flicker on. I washed and dried my hands with a towel as I walked into the living room. Carson was sitting upright on the couch, basically sitting on the edge. He was paying close attention to the news reports on recent murders and robberies.

I sighed, knowing he was looking for anything pertaining to him, and walked upstairs to my bedroom. I went into my bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. The bandages on my face needed changed, that's for sure.

I grabbed my first aid kit from the cabinet and gathered all the things I would need onto the counter. I prepared my new bandage and my cloth soaked in rubbing alcohol as I started removing my old and worn bandage.

Once I'd peeled it off, I couldn't believe what I saw. It was definitely worse. My face was swollen and purple on the side and the scratch marks were starting to crack open and bleed again. My eye was darker than it was this morning and it had almost completely shut.

I was about to cry, seeing as my face was in pain, due to the bandages no longer applying pressure, when I felt two arms wrap around my shoulders. I looked up with my good eye to see Carson, his eyes closed with a serious expression on his face.

He squeezed me a little tighter before he lifted his head to examine my face. He gently ran the back of his hand across my swollen cheek. I winced slightly, because just the smallest touch could make it throb in pain.

"Carmen, I'm so sorry. I really am."

I shrugged and sighed as I looked back to my first aid kit. I didn't say a word to him as I cleaned and bandaged my wound again. After I'd covered the wounded area, I looked back to Carson.

"Look, I don't care that you're sorry. I want to hear it from Cannibal. He's the one who did this. Also, I don't want to see anyone dead tonight. No killing. I don't care if Cannibal comes out or not, neither of you are killing anyone tonight. Understood?"

Carson looked at me, a dazed look in his eye. I looked up at him to see him avoiding my eye contact. I grabbed his chin and forced him to look me in my eyes, "If you try hard enough, you can stop him from doing this."

Carson sighed and lowered his gaze. He just kept staring at my floor, seeming lost in thought, when my timer on my oven started beeping.

Carson looked up to me, "You'd better go check that."

I glared at him momentarily before making my way to the kitchen. I grabbed my oven mitts and opened the oven. The lasagna smelled wonderful, the aroma spreading throughout the entirety of the house. I pulled it out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool.

After it had cooled, I cut it and put a slice on a plate for me and Carson. I grabbed the plates and headed to the living room where Carson was still watching the news.

I set the plate down in front of him, but he didn't eat it right away. In fact, he didn't eat any at all. He just sat there, staring at the TV with a blank and lost expression on his face.

After what seemed hours, I picked up his and my plate and went to the kitchen to start the dishes. Just as I had filled the sink with hot, soapy water, I glimpsed at the clock for the first time this evening. It read 11:53.

I started washing the dishes, saying a silent prayer to myself, hoping Carson could control it.

At 11:58, Carson came into the kitchen breathing hard. I quickly dried my hands and went to him and grabbed his shoulders, "What's wrong Carson?"

He could hardly answer, his breathing was so abnormal, "I-I-I'm scared Carmen. I-I'm al-r-r-ready feeling numb."

I helped him to a bar stool and started rubbing slow, gentle circles on his back with my hand, "It's okay Carson, you can do it. Just don't give in."

11:59.

Carson could hardly breathe now. He sounded like he was choking, and in a way, he was. He was choking on that evil bastard inside him.

I kept rubbing his back, as Carson started coughing and hacking. He was shaking now, and he was sweating and trembling in my arms. He was also starting to sway in the seat, so I could tell he was becoming faint.

12:00.

"CARMEN!!!"

(Carson's POV)

I was screaming in agony. The pain and numbness radiating throughout my body was unbearable. I felt as if I was being ripped apart.

I fell from the bar stool and laid on the cold tile floor. I continued screaming, the pain moving to my head. I thought for sure my head was going to explode.

Carmen was still holding me and telling me to hold it in. I could hardly hear or feel her over all the pain.

Cannibal was screaming in my mind.

Carson! Stop fighting me!

"No I can't! I'M NOT GOING TO SCARE HER AGAIN!!!"

I was angry now. I was angry at Cannibal. He wasn't the "friend" he said he was. He was evil, just like Carmen had said.

YOU CAN'T BEAT ME!

"WATCH ME!!"

I started screaming more, the pain increasing with every word I said. Suddenly, I heard a snap. I instantly stopped and kept a dazed and terrified stare on my face. Carmen had screamed and I didn't dare try and see what Cannibal had done.

I felt a fiery burning radiating in my chest and I screamed and hunched over in pain. He had broke my rib. Or ribs, I wasn't completely sure. I started coughing, hard, and blood came pouring from my mouth. The taste was terrible and it was extremely hard to breathe.

That's when I couldn't fight anymore. I instantly dropped, and I felt the numbness and unconsciousness consume me.

(Carmen's POV)

I couldn't believe it. Cannibal could cause physical damage to Carson? Even when Cannibal wasn't even out?

I now understood. Cannibal always won. There was no way to stop him.

I heard Carson growl and his changes started to appear. He lifted his head, red eyes flashing. Cannibal glared at me and slowly stood. I slowly backed away, my back touching the cabinets.

He glared at me, his teeth bared and glowing menacingly. He slowly walked by me, and down the hall and out the front door.

Once I'd heard the door close, I sank lower to the ground and curled up, crying. I didn't want him to come back. I hoped he would leave and never come back. I didn't want to face the consequences of what I'd wanted Carson to do. Betrayal.

All my hopes vanished when I heard my front door open. I braced myself for the punishment, as I heard footsteps coming down the hall and the dark figures shadow standing in the kitchen doorway.