Demonic Demise

She could feel her mind being taken over by the coaxing of his voice. Her thoughts consumed by the promise of shutting out the noise in her head. The voices seemed to come and go but lately they had become a part of her. It felt like an alter ego was sat on her shoulders, constantly whispering in her ear. The more she tried to resist, the more she felt like she was being torn apart. His voice corrupted her thoughts making them incoherent. She started to doubt herself and wasn't sure if she could resist him anymore. 

 Craving her self-destruction, she desired release of her mental anguish. Needing an end to her instability, she was alone seeking any solution. This led her to become an empty skin casing of a now completely broken heart and empty mind. 

Forever in an endless loop of pain, she was constantly a mess and emotionally unstable. Preaching these lying lessons like she was a messenger of the fallen angel, and had even persuaded herself that she was, before the realisation of humanity set in. 

She was enthralled with his voice, more than she was with her own. But, she couldn't deny it anymore. That he was constantly in her mind, taunting her and ridiculing every single one of her flaws making her feel worthless. This wasn't her, it was him. Every single insecure, noxious thought was because of him. He infiltrated her mind, confining her in a cage of insecurities.

Yet, she was still naive and young and couldn't resist the temptation, the promise of a quick and painless end. She idolised him for his promise of ending the constant chaos in her head, to the point where she openly accepted that she was just another disposable puppet in one of his many shows. Loving him so much, that she conjured her own personal demonised vision of him. Utter perfection to look at but mangled inside, he was made with the intention of her bloody demise.

She was twisted in that way, she wanted to feel again. Tired of being mundane and melancholic, she wanted to live for that heart-wrenching feeling. The feeling that only ever coursed through her body from the sound of his voice. Despite the fact that she was losing control of herself, unable to distinguish her thoughts from his. After all, imperfection was her middle name and she caused chaos that could make even the devil fall to his knees.

That's why she pushed everyone away, afraid that they'd see through the cracks that were starting to show; through the broken masterpiece, the mosaic known as her mind. That they'd see through her masquerade, giving into the curiousity and end up dead just like all the others. 

She didn't need anyone before and she certainly didn't now. Isolated in her own little world, protecting her fragile emotions from any more forcefully severed relationships. No more attachments, or playing with the fire that burned bright within each of their souls, because unfortunately, in the end she was always the one to get burnt. 

Despite all this, her tears weren't enough to drown herself in, relieve her sorrows or even heal the wounds that were forever imprinted in her soul. She could cry herself a river only to be reborn in the drying dust. 

With those thoughts the voices wanted to punish her, the constant chaos in her head caused excruciating pain and despair. The voices seemed to be getting louder, more forceful, wanting to hurt her with each moment that passed. 

It was too late. He had complete control over her, she couldn't be saved now. Tainted, with his thoughts infiltrating every inch of her mind, he was sucking the life out of her body and soul. She felt trapped because she couldn't escape the agony and torment, unsure anyone would believe her if she even tried to explain. 

Her pulse was beating faster as the voices grew louder, like a sirens call which she could not ignore. This time violent, bloody images accompanied the destructive voices, her confusion and fear escalating to the next level. Falling to her knees she curled into a ball, rocking from side to side hoping to shut them out. 

Her muffled screams ricocheted off each dark corner in her mind. Trapped in her own endless hell, constantly fleeing from the demon that lived in her head. 

After hours of screaming into the darkness, with one last breath she screamed, "Prohibere!", then her voice faded to merely a whisper, "Placet...non hoc mihi sit." She needed it to stop. It was too late, her grasp on reality and herself was slipping away. Laying there numb, the cold crept into her bones as she silently wept. Her body convulsing as she drifted into a semi-conscious state. 

The stench of evil surrounded her like a fog, erasing the last traces of her humanity. In that moment, out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of the shadow of her persecutor hovering over with menacing arms inviting her into the dark abyss. She opened her mouth to scream but there was only silence. Her throat was hoarse as she continued her silent cries. 

As she reached out the voices stopped and she found herself hurtling through the air to meet the ocean, fiery and wild.

AN: This is the only part of this short story. Also, I am not a native Italian speaker so the translation may not be 100% correct. Thanks for reading <3