Scream.

This is just a short little story-thing that I wrote when I couldn't find another way to show the character's anguish.

His heart raced angrily in his chest, his teeth were ground together so hard it didn't hurt anymore.  He couldn't even bring himself to blink at the blood stained white carpet.  Red eyes burning a hole in the only part of the room free of any sign of his outburst, he tried to breath, but his lips wouldn't open to let the air in...or out, he couldn't remember which he needed. 
"Do you need a hug?" his mother asked softly. 
He almost bit his tongue off.  What a pathetic thing he was, how could he be in control of his surroundings if he couldn't be in control of himself?  He tried to will himself to look at the path of chaos he left in the wake of his seething anguish, but the part of him that stared deep into the grains of the carpet would not look away.  He was so selfish, didn't that half know it was time to share the eyes?  He wanted to scream at himself, tell him how horrible he was, say every single thing he thought he felt, scream until his lungs burst out of his mouth and he died, scream until Satan got sick of it and sent him back to life as a banshee so he could scream some more.  His body shook uncontrollably, perhaps from his tears, or his anger, he couldn't tell...he couldn't feel.  Trying again to breathe, he gasped in several heavy gulps of air, it was in after all.  The shaking slowly subsided as his chest expanded and contracted with his hard, uneven breathing so off rhythm with his pounding heart.
"Sweetie, please tell me what's wrong," his mother crooned, taking a cautious step towards him.
He wanted to run to her, fall into her arms and sob again, but somehow he thought he'd lost the ability to.  He wanted to yell all his thoughts at her, scream at her until his lips were bloody with pieces of his own throat, but he felt he should not. 
"I keep Killing them" His own icy voice sent a chill up his spine, "they don't even deserve it...they're just so weak..."
She stared at him for a long moment, "It's okay sweetie, just tell me what happened."
His eyes closed once for a blink and he knew why other him had been forcing them open, he saw all the faces, the horror...fear...heard them begging, screaming in pain...saw himself loving it, saw his fangs tearing flesh, gulping blood, peeling skin.  His eyes shot open, never would he blink again, never.  Heat flashed through his body, he saw red again, blood red, waves of boiling pain rolled through his skin. He panted, trying to breathe through the suffocating heat only he felt, 'if this is what it takes to melt my heart...I'd rather die.' he managed to think as large black spots appeared in his vision.  He saw his mother's mouth open, a scream, but he couldn't hear her, he saw the blood too, pouring from his side, where a piece of metal from what was a table skewered his horrible, evil flesh,  He could not yet feel the pain, but when he took his next gasp for air, his feelings returned.  It didn't hurt, not really, nothing compared to his own two hands grinding up the shreds of his heart and burning them, replacing his mind with this crazy man's with another personality, but it added to the heat, the anger, the panic...he screamed, his body failing long before his lungs did.  He screamed, and screamed, no words, just pure vicious pain that surged though his veins finally finding its outlet.  His eyes closed and he fell into darkness, but his screams did not stop.

Author's Note

Please tell me if you liked it, what are some things I could fix?