“I know this won’t be easy for you.

I of all people should know this.

But I know how important it is that you go through with this.”

______

I don’t know you, but you seem kind. You seem to like me. I seem to like you. We must be a couple. We’re dancing in this void to a song I can’t hear, but I know that it’s ‘our song’. I can’t see what the title is on the player. What’s that feeling?

Black…

I wake up. You’re dead. Your body lays among broken shards of a vase with roses around you. Your blood’s on my hands. It must have hurt. For both of us. Did you know about this demon?

The player vanishes and the muffled song stops. Your body fades away, but your blood stays on my hands. A new girl appears. I know who you are. Aubrey… No! Please don’t!

The feeling comes back.

Black…

My eyes open, but I look straight up. I won’t see what I’ve done to her, but I can feel it. I can smell it. I can feel and smell it?

I can taste it! It’s in my mouth!

Something screams behind me. A child… A baby. A crying baby. I turn around.

“You’re not alone,” something whispers in my ear.

“Shut up!” I scream into the void of this dream.

This child scares me. I can’t see it. I don’t know where it is, but it scares me. Why? Who is it?

I walk towards the scream.

“You’re not alone.”

I jog.

“You’re not alone.”

I run.

“You’re not alone.”

I hunt.

______

I open my eyes and swing up in bed, sweating, breathing rapidly, panicking, almost crying. I throw the blanket off and get out of bed. This isn’t over. This was never over and this will never be over. I can’t save myself. I can’t save the people I love. I won’t even exist soon.

I open my bedroom door and pace down the passage. As I pass my parents’ bedroom…

You’re not alone, the demon whispers in my ear.

I don’t pay attention to how loud my footsteps are. “Damien?” I hear my father’s voice. I stop for a moment… then run. I hear the bed creak as my father gets out of bed. I grab the keys from the kitchen counter, run to the door, unlock it and run out. I close my eyes and look for the lights to guide me. I run straight for it. I don’t know where I am. I step on thorns and stones and run into walls that I jump over to get to the light. Cars screech to a stop as I cross roads. Some of them knock into me, but I get right back up and keep running.

The terrain changes from tar to dead leaves. The light is near. I hear its soundless call. I pass through its purple wall and fall. I open my eyes, get up and run to the small house. I swing the door open and drop to my knees. I press my palms to my ears, hooking my fingers behind my neck, I fall forward and press my forehead to the floor. I’m deafened by noiseless and chaotic thoughts that make my ears ring and my head ache.

This is it. This is the end and I so desperately need the purple light to help me stop it, but the purple light says nothing. The purple light can’t say anything. The purple light is just a light, and it can’t fight a demon. All it can do is talk to me without words, but it refuses to even talk.

I rock back and forth on my knees. I want to feel scared. I want to feel angry. I want to feel something to drive me to fight. I want to open my eyes and I want this to just be another dream. I feel nothing. I want to feel. All I feel is acceptance. This is the way it is and for some reason beyond me, I am fine with this and I am settling for this. This! Why this? Why do I let myself slip into this?

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Peace. The demon is tied down again. He’s held back by something. I’m free, but only temporarily.

Heavy, slow footsteps walk towards me. I look up. I know this man. I know this man so well, but I know nothing about him. This man feels like a part of me, but I have never seen him before. Not even in the dreams. He has long hair and his nose is hunched and sharp. His eyes… His eyes hold a familiar emotion… He’s so tired. He’s so exhausted. He can’t go on the way that he is anymore.

“Please,” I say, “Help me.”

The man kneels down in front of me and places a hand on my shoulder.

Help yourself, he says.

“I can’t! I don’t know what to do!”

Fight.

“How?!”

You will feel it.

“I feel scared!”

Stop...

He stands up.

You need to fight him now… We need to fight him now. It’s time for him to end. He has done this to us for too long now. I held him back, but I never fought. We must fight him.

“I can’t!”

“You can.”

I feel the demon become uneasy and rise in my mind like a monster reawakening from its slumber.

You must fight him like you are resisting an urge. The strongest urge you will ever feel.

“He isn’t an urge! I’m not him! He’s a demon!”

You are him. You need to accept that you are him. If you think you aren’t him, you think you can’t fight him. But you are him and you must fight him. Take away his sentience.

“I can’t! I’m not you!”

You are me. You dream through my eyes. You are my life reborn.

“I’m not you! I can’t hold back a demon like you can!”

The man kneels down and puts a hand on my shoulder again.

I am you.

“No, you’re not!”

I am you.

“No! You a—”

I am you.

I feel it.

I am you.

No memories. Just a feeling.

I am you.

The demon isn’t the only one with power.

I am you.

I can feel the strength of myself without the demon. The demon isn’t the source of my strength. The demon is an ugly plant grown from my strength’s soil.

I am you.

I am you.

I am you.

“You are me,” I say.

I am you.

“You are me,” I say.

I am you.

“You are me,” I say.

I am you.

“You are me,” I say.

I remember now… I remember and it just… it becomes clear… I am my own person, but that doesn’t mean the reincarnation will replace me. The reincarnation means I died, and I’m back once again.

I am a continuation.

And suddenly, I’m not me. I am who I was. I remember now, though just bits and pieces. I know little of my past life, but I know almost everything of who I used to be.

I look at the man… This man isn’t somebody else… This man isn’t a past life trying to guide me in fighting his possession.

This man is me… This man is me trying to tell myself that I need to fight.

There is pain in his eyes and it flows out in his tears that roll down his cheeks onto the floor.

His mouth opens and his bottom lip quivers for a moment.

“I am done,” he says. I feel his voice in my throat.

“I can’t-keep-living like this.”

I start to cry because I finally know what he means. I start to cry because I understand. I start to cry because he is me, and I feel everything he feels.

“I can’t keep thinking this is okay.”

He is me from a time not too long ago, but a time very far away, and he is begging this disconnected me to remember why all of this is happening and to fight so that it was all worth it. He’s desperately trying to remind me, trying to get me remember. Trying to make sure I don’t forget everything that’s happened.

I hear a voice, not his nor mine.

“I know this won’t be easy for you. But I know how important it is that you go through with this.”

And I know what he means.

“I feel like decay…”

It’s as if I were sleeping. My eyes were open, but only now am I regaining consciousness and realising that there is nobody in front of me. I look at my shoulder, where I placed my own hand.

“I feel like decay… and this has to end.”

A pain so cold it burns crawls its way up to my temples and my eyes shroud in black. I feel my mind get pulled away from control. A heat burns on my shoulder blades and the room is illuminated by fire that conjures wings. My body is the demon’s, but my mind is mine.

I want to fight it. I want to fight it knowing I could die trying. Then I will come back and I will fight again. I will die as many times as it takes, but I will not stop fighting. I will no longer simply stand my ground. I will push back. It’s time that I pushed back.