Chocolate & Whiskey

Beasts

Endless darkness, bloody wounds on the heart and cunning, cruel, repulsive everyone, beasts inside. Is there anything left in him? It's hard to say how long ago Emre stopped living his own life on his own. Instead of him, they lived his life ― shaggy monsters, tortured by Aylin, which squeezed his, once warm, heart in their coarse clawed paws. Divit knew he's never been like this, but at some point, as if at the click of someone's disgustingly bony fingers, to the joy of Yüksel, he suddenly changed for the worse. It's hard to say what exactly made him so poison himself and open his previously bright soul to the demons, eager to enter it. He played in these dishonest, nefarious games; he went too far making a deal with the devil, and then he simply resigned himself, understanding that he would never be able to gain control of himself, but―

He was wrong. Despite all Aylin's efforts to isolate him from the normal, familiar world, there was someone beside him who didn't want to leave. And this someone, of course, absolutely had no idea about everything that was happening in Emre's soul. One thing was for sure: ever since he had looked at Leyla differently, his life had changed once and for all. In spite of all his demons inside, who now and then unceremoniously burst into his consciousness, trying to take the initiative to themselves, he decided to protect her. Protect her from them and from himself.

You know, Mary,

there are

beasts

in my head. They'd have

eaten

you, if I'd let them.

Difficulty. More difficult than usual. Every time Aydin smiled, the monsters who settled in this terrible black emptiness were indignant, almost tearing Divit apart from the inside.

For the first time in a long time, he didn't obey; disobeyed of the plan created by them.

The pain from the invisible, but such painful wounds left behind by monsters that didn't give the guy a rest, and breathing was harder: the iron bars squeezed his chest. The closer he and Aydin became to each other, the harder it became in the chest. But Emre, more and more often looking into the blue eyes of this amazingly pure, an innocent girl, bravely endured and believed: she was worth it.

And the heart is always heavier when you feel something.

And he definitely felt that the hardened muscle in his chest was still showing signs of life, starting at the moment when he, lying in the hospital room, deliberately touched her hand. Because it was necessary. It was necessary for him, and not for those who sat inside.

But I drive them from the prairies,

on the key closing the door.

beasts sit on chains

on the rusty chains of the soul.

Time after time, he had to leave terrifying demons on a leash when Leyla was around. But it was not so easy to silence them: they, feeding on his thoughts and feelings for a long time, knew perfectly well his every weakness and pressed him with all their might to prevent Divit from subjugating them. Every late evening, when tired like a dog, Emre was returning home from the agency, they were growling, scrabbling, biting, fighting with each other somewhere in the halls of his soul. They were angry, not giving their master the peace.

But was it possible to call him the master of his monsters? Hardly, if he still can't gain control over them and over himself.