Darkness filled the room, thick and heavy. I sat on the cold floor, trying to calm the storm inside me. My power wasn't just something I used; it felt like it wanted to use me.
The flickering torches made weird shadows on the walls. The energy inside me was coiled and ready. It burned under my skin, pulsed in my veins, and whispered in my mind.
"Control it," I told myself.
But it seemed to laugh at me.
It wasn't a loud laugh. This fight was quieter, more personal. It was the whisper in my thoughts, the weight on my chest, the hungry feeling behind every breath.
"You want it," the voice inside me said softly. "You always have."
I squeezed my eyes shut. My heart pounded in my ears.
"No," I whispered. "That's not me."
"But it is," the voice argued, smooth and sharp at the same time. "
