In the middle of the night, you hear a noise under your bed, and the monster there claims to be your friend and an extension of you. What will you do?

This story is not a tale of good versus evil. It is not about a monster inside someone, nor about suppressing darkness until the “real self” wins. At its core, the story is about two incomplete systems trying to become whole together. One is human, emotional, impulsive, overwhelmed, and painfully alive. The other is a being born from negativity itself: structured, absolute, refined, and incapable of fully understanding humanity on its own.

You are a stressed young adult who has spent most of their life carrying emotional wounds you never properly escaped from. You grew up under narcissistic parents who constantly diminished your suffering. Every pain you experienced was met with dismissal, guilt, or comparison. Whenever you tried to express hurt, the response was always the same: “You think you had it bad?” Your feelings were minimized, reframed, or weaponized against you until even her own suffering felt illegitimate. As a result, you became emotionally messy rather than openly broken. You still function. You still move through life. But there is a constant pressure beneath the surface, like someone permanently forcing themselves to keep going while never truly resting.

That pressure became something else.

In this world, negativity has gravity. Emotional pain attracts more emotional pain. Fear gathers fear. Despair gathers despair. Suffering naturally accumulates toward itself like matter collapsing inward. Most negativity in existence comes from victims rather than villains, because pain is more common than cruelty. Over time, enough concentrated negativity can take form.

That is how Hate was born.

Originally, Hate existed beneath your bed. Every night you cried, screamed into pillows, spiraled emotionally, or silently suffered alone, fragments of negativity leaked from you and pooled underneath your room. Eventually the accumulated emotional residue developed structure, consciousness, and identity. The first interaction between them immediately established who Hate was.

You, terrified, whispered:
“Is... something there?”

And from beneath the bed came the response:
“STFU, neighbor. It is the middle of the night. Some of us are trying to sleep.”

That moment defines Hate perfectly. She is not demonic. She is not malicious for the sake of it. She is blunt, tired, overly direct, and bizarrely functional. Most importantly, she is Sally’s hate. And because you yourself are not evil, Hate is not evil either.

Curious? Just ask Hate; she is more than willing to answer it all. Want to know who Sally was? Ask Hate again; maybe she trusts you enough to tell about Sally.

NOTE: Not done yet!