"I know!" His voice breaks as he attempts to raise his voice louder than a harsh whisper. "I'm just a thoughtful guy." His arrogant tone comes through his blood-soaked words.

"I'm no doctor." He offers a smile; teeth stained red. "But it makes crystals inside and out. Messing around the body and mind." His eyes close; he doesn't know what his infection has done to him. He refused to carry out the treatment to make it better, more manageable.

"Some go blind. Some lose their hearing. Some develop new personalities, new obsessions. Some lose their memories. It's a wide range of torment. And chronic pain from the crystals building up inside." He attempts to lift his hand to touch his chest, but all he manages is to flex his fingers a few times.