I always knew there was something wrong with me. Something just a little bit off; not quite right. I have this... addiction that started when I was younger and I stumbled across my mother's back massager. That wonderful, magical tool became my new best friend. Until that need inside me stopped being satisfied. It's uncontrollable, untamed, and completely unstoppable. So I stopped trying to fight it and learned to embrace it. I was perfectly happy with my lonely little life of destruction until three men showed up and showed me a whole new world. But this isn't a fairy-tale and there is no flying carpet. My mother always told me I was going to hell. Turns out, she was right. They're not even human; they say I'm not either.