Captivating Fear

I can feel Him slivering through every nerve in my body. Stopping when he reaches my cure, pressing deeper into my mind I can hardly breathe. The pain in my skull becomes unbearable, emptiness begins to spread throughout my body. I can feel him burning through bits of my past. He only touches the things I've done that led me here, all of what made me who I was. But is that a bad thing? Peices of my past flash infront of my eyes, breaking me with every glimps.

I can see a man in front of me, eyes wide tears streams from the corners as he pleads for his life. He begs me not to leave his children fatherless, or his wife a widow. A loud blast rings through my ears and he collapse at my feet.

I remember my arms wrapped around a woman's throat almost snapping her neck. Continuing to tighten my grip, I could hear the gasps for air, clawing at my arms. I couldn't see her face but I remember how hard she scratched. I'm sure she left scars all over my arms. But I never let up, even after she stopped moving. I held my grip.

I want to say I didn't mean to, that I was somehow forced into it but that would be a lie. The idea that my hands were the cause of fear and I was the holder of death impelled my every move. I felt accomplished, as if that was my purpose in this world. Was I meant to be a monster? I don't think anyone knows what their true mission in life is but mine ended when He took it away. Maybe that's a good thing, or maybe I just became a target for the monsters I used to be.