Problem: A type of hypnotism/mesmerism. Strength undetermined, other than that point at work. Hard to say if she would have done that on her own purposely without verbal prompts or to stop. Willfulness should be further studied. Only requires eye contact and spoken words.

Theory: A foreign material had been released. Either airborne or within the water supplies. Hallucinations or brain is melting. Possibly providing some sort of evolving in the process. Like Phenomenon (1996) or Powder (1995). Do not look up what is with fads for films like this.
Negative - You are the only one with this ability. Different kind of special.

Theory: Access to chemicals or prolonged exposure to unknown pathogen.
Negative - There is no known probable cause to this in the lab or otherwise.

Question: What triggered the ability to glide? Why am I able to do this? What allows for it? Physical changes? More mental? Study.

Theory: Practical joke / comic convention / abductions.
Negative - Too many people would have to be in on this. Too many rights violated.
Notes: Later, notable memory loss could be a side effect of whatever has caused this. One week gone, possible long-term effects to be considered here. Findings: Nothing. Blood, urges. Not a need, but the strongest of wants. Is it me or is someone speaking to me? I'm arguing with myself. Habits changing. No physical changes. Don't know what some of these notes are about. They don't make sense. But must stay inside. Can't leave. No trusting. Images are haunting me. No one can help me. Daydreams of murder. Screams. Snapping bones, blood dripping. Better than sex. No urges to harm self, just others.
Edit: Fulfilling cravings may reduce the urge. Perhaps start with something small or someone unnoticeable? No time lost. Could put me over the edge or get it out enough not to have so much of this. One excursion out to test? No, not good.
Edit: Went out. One attempt made. Opted out. There will be no memory of it for the subject. Rats don't curb anything. Less interesting. Unsatisfied.

Problem: New hunger. No longer simply interested in blood. Must ingest it as well. Does curb blood lust. What kind of monster have I become? Back of the throat burns for it. Always hungry. Caught staring at noticeable veins. Neck, wrists, and others. Enticed by scent and color. Regardless of what some thing, I am not eating bloody nose tissues.
Edit: DNA mutations present. Near normal with some sequences that line up with bats. Possible physical changes to come? Memory says so, but there is no telling.
Edit: Emotional instability with the blood lust. Anger and rage being the most present. Hair trigger the hungrier. Further study necessary, for safety of self and others.

Problem: Was held against my will. Believed to have found a monster like me. Wrong sort. Another to want to use me for my skills and abilities which were more intact than ever. Held captive, starved, until I made a choice one way or another. Didn't care if I chose to starve, and allowed the probability of blood lust to end me as I stand. Hunger intact. Need to feed. Ashamed, but if I had not, I may have lost myself completely. Speed, senses, ability to create others like me, all real. Given the ability to heal. Viruses spread. Must fix this even if it kills me. Do more than warn others. Repair.
Edit: No more apples. Stay away from YouTube.
Problem: viruses Rats and vermin used with spreading unknown virus through water supply. Noted within sewers while held captive. Variations of the bubonic plague and yellow fever synthesized and spread. Vaccines were destroyed ahead of time, but did manage to hold something for that.
Edit: Possibly running on a time clock here. State of regeneration may be a key to unlocking how to fix this. Proper synthesis of as much would be necessary after. Own blood packs left frozen for study.

Edit: He created her. There's something wrong. I don't know how to fix this. She isn't herself. Protective of me. Glossy eyes, pale skin, strength, stays away from sunlight. No will of her own.

Problem: Memories that are not mine. Not just people, but of periods in time. Whole experiences.
Theory: I'm becoming him. We are one? Same person, different reality/universe/dimension? Dimensional travel was possible in memories. Brownsville is an actual place. Instances are made real, but not me or mine. Morbius. Michael Morbius. I am not him?

Directions: A. I am him. Someone changed time and space. Changed an occurrence in the past. The future shifted. There is a random event in time and this has come to the point of the butterfly effect. I hate Ashton Kutcher.
B. I am him pulled out of his reality and placed into this one. Something is flooding the gates and there was an error in someone's logic. Or more time travel and shifts to change.
C. I am him and this is all an illusion. Manipulations set by someone more powerful. Look into beings with this sort of power.
D. I am me and I'm going completely insane. Not prepared to be admitted into a mental institution. At least I would get the good pudding.
E. I am me and I'm in a coma. Vegetable, let them pull the plug.
F. Dimensional shift or rift. Worst case scenario is that we all die.
G. World's are colliding.

Edit: Why is there a loss of memory? Why does one side only recall? Why don't notes line up?

Problem: Physical changes manifesting. Red eyes, much like those in memories. Not large in size, everything seems intact. First black pupil intact, but then nothing. Completely red. Eerie. Blood work shows no abnormalities, outside of DNA issues that showed up with feeding on blood.
Edit: Enough anger, and too close to the edge. Safety of others with loss of self? Or loss of self and let everyone die? I took an oath. Tired of everyone's comments. Self preservation and disbelief in me being able to do anything to them. Just because I can do something, doesn't mean I'm going to. Doesn't mean I won't either. Confusion. She needs to stop. They all need to stop.

Theory: I can't die. Immortal or just healing? Is there a difference here? Findings: Memories of being shot point blank in the chest with a double barreled shotgun. Lived without assistance. Memories are detailed, vivid, and as if I were the one that was living it. Jumped off the top of the building. Landed in the alley. Body pulled itself together. Doesn't die. Did relieve anger. Too hungry after.
Solution: Have more blood shipped here.

Problem: Strength and healing. Amount to be tested.
Findings: Amount of blood in system does seem to effect. Much like an automobile, my level of "gas" is necessary to run. Unlike one, the amount determines my ability to function in a human sense. Own thought processes versus blood lust. Amount of strength and speed. Does not look to effect healing, but does leave me feeling drained. Realizing that I don't actually sleep doesn't change this. Fatigue can set in, but not to the point of finding slumber. Hollow bones are set for flight. Strong bones and muscles regardless. Study more into this.

Problem: Locations are real. Recalled and here. Theory: It is more than seemingly random items or abilities that come rushing through. Sometimes there may have been a need, but no death except to those that are not one of us. Ruling out direction C. Dimensional shift or rift seems more likely. Everyone is a very separate person. Another life while having to learn how to cope. Abilities seem more focused during times of memory loss, but do end up with us full-time. Some the same, some not. Some are human, without "special" abilities. No monsters. Just me.
Findings: Everyone knows someone. Reaching out like a spiderweb. I hate spiderwebs. (Likelihood of Spider-Man? Not the cause.)

New found agility. Suspect to go along with other abilities. Check for other physical changes.

More interesting findings: Not common but can gain memory loss for more than one week. Not everyone gains it at the same time. Those effected may not change or "shift" into the other person. Not that I was so lucky. No memory loss for them during this.

No extra memories from. Restricted to abilities, places, powers, physical changes, and items. Personalities and memories. More than shots in the dark like meteors falling from the sky. If one dimension if falling apart or if they all are crashing into each other? Or this one? Probability of death to the user. Only one may survive. All reality could have a deeper issue, unless we are the ones to stand. Domino effect as they crash. Could lead to a shift.

If more than one dimension or realities merging into one body, instead of those dying? Probability of death. Human body cannot function under that level of stress. Not been done before, not even in these blasted comics. Too much information for the use of the brain. And all of this is not through the brain, due to the fact that locations and items show up and not just memories and abilities. There is some sort of rift that moves with the shift. Leads to a higher probability of everything crashing into the rest.

There may not be a stopping this as some people stop having this happen to them. It may simply take a new host? Unsure on if this has to do with mental stability or consistent distance from Boston. People do leave and come back. They do "shift" with or without being within city limits.

Problem: Death is imminent. Merging has begun. Unknown amount of time that the body can handle this. Possible acceptance of it in order for it to happen? Some loss of self is noted. Does not seem to be realized. Two people in one mind, possibly more to come? Not possible to keep. A fight for survival and who will hold full control. This is not multiple personalities and even then, there is a dominant one. They are due to an inability to cope. Acceptance simply allows one to lose. If its us that have to accept this for that step, then we would be the most likely to die. Like a body with two heads or a conjoined twin that dies in the womb. Natural occurrence, the weakest are the first to die. Natural selection.

I am unprepared to die, unless it gives me back control, or is for the safety of others.

Michael held books worth of reading material, all of his own handwriting or typed away into files in the computer. Theories from the moment this all began, ideas on what direction it would take. All in a hope of attempting to do more than study the situation as it presented itself. Held back by his own issues, abilities that were strengths and weaknesses quick to trip him up, being thrown at him without the ability to handle his own want for control. His world had been put off of its own axis. His entire world shot to hell. Everything for him, it only pointed in one direction. He didn't care how fatalistic that appeared, how others took it. They were further behind than he was. They had yet to endure what he faced, if they ever would.

It didn't matter if they had actually been at this longer than him or held less experience. But the fact of the matter was, no one held the same experience he did. The same knowledge base, nor the inability to lose time and do simple things like sleep. His body held a different sort of change for him than theirs did. He wasn't like anyone here. Michael Morgan wasn't like anyone anywhere. He wasn't human, nor was he an actual vampire.

His image inducer was not on him. It was sitting there on top of his dresser in his bedroom. An unused bed lying there as he stared at it. Internally, he may as well have been screaming. No cry, no fight there for the world to see, but for the fact that his mind would not stop. It was a constant and incessant amount of thoughts. The sort that he was forever left to stand there and accept for himself. No one to speak them to. No one to want to speak them to. Either they didn't understand or they weren't prepared to. Above all else though, no one wanted bad news. To be told that this was no better than a cancer. It was taking over your body. Where once he held the belief that maybe he was this other person, that it made it easier to accept what was going on. He couldn't just do that anymore.

There was a death wish in there. Not because he wanted to die. He didn't want the end of it all. He wanted to be through with it. This wasn't about feelings of fear, where they were not past that, he was. There were worse things to fear when you wanted to snack on people. To feed off of them as if they were nothing but cattle and you held the craving for the worlds greatest burger. To enjoy the point of massacre and destroying the cow for this little morsel of food, to not care about the endless hours that would come from beginning to end, in order to gain this patty.

Whether anyone wanted to admit it or not, here he was, an instrument of death. All the while, he only wanted to bring life to the world. To give others more time. To give himself more time. No one understood it and no one really wanted to. They only stated things, as if they did. But when it came to him going to them, it was all a sham. A wall of lies that didn't matter. Reasons why people were not dependable. Science was who stood strong, where others went by feelings. Intelligence surmised to nothing more than a simple compliment that only held meaning to the one gaining it rather than the user. Manipulation tactic to be thrown about and taken away. Indian giving.

Staring at his own red eyes, the fangs that sat there as his lips moved. A small smile in his features, just enough to see the fangs there, he was so much more accepting of the way he appeared now. But not the man he would be. Not that man who was trying to take all the work he had done. This was his life and he was not willing to just give it up. He would never agree to that, never submit. This was his place and that man could either die, go away, or sit along for the ride. He was Michael Morgan and not some counterpart. Not some Michael Morbius.