I can't remember anything. When I sleep, I dream of the tortured screams of the people I've killed; I see images of their faces, screaming "Why?" at me. But my anger is what killed them. My anger is power.

I think I should explain from the beginning. I have no name, though I was referred to as test subject 13-X. Before I came here I remember being in lots of pain, and also being covered in the red water. But now these "Ponies" are being nice to me, unlike the white coats. They call me a human; though I don't think that sounds right. I guess I should try to make friends before HE tries to kill them like all the others.