The Demon

I have a rather bizarre case of both Schizophrenia and Multiple-Personality Disorder. I have several different personalities which double as "voices" in my head and tend to influence my behavior depending on what my emotional state is at any given time.

The Demon, Malanchton, is a leftover nightmare from a former life and time; a doppelganger and son to the Imp who sired him so long ago. Like his father, the Imp, Malanchton is an amorphous shapeshifter with no true form, but he usually prefers to manifest through shadows; often assuming the form of an immense colossal mass of darkness with flaming serpentine eyes that set the skies on fire. The appearance he favors the most is that of a giant demonic verison of me; which is forever meant to be a slap in my face; reminding me that we are one in the same.

Malanchton is held prisoner, chained and bound, in the deepest recesses of my mind and though he may occasionally raise his head and peer out with his hate-filled eye he normally cannot break his binds. Only during an instant of unrestrained wrath can Malanchton break free, and heaven help us should that ever come to pass. He is the primary reason why I isolate myself from the rest of humanity, because all it would take would be one idiot saying or doing the wrong thing at the wrong moment for him to be unleashed, and once unleashed I cannot guarantee I could restrain him again.