Chapter 10
Thorn – unknown 11091
When I was young, I was consumed by a terror that slithered beneath my skin, something dark and restless, a beast that slumbered in the depths of my soul. It thrived in the shadows, its hunger insatiable, and when everything it once cherished was taken from it, I found myself drawn to silence, to the cold winds that cut through barren trees, to the oppressiveness of the black woods where nothing but death seemed to walk.
That night, when everything was stripped away, something inside me cracked open, fractured like glass, and from those shards grew thoughts too vile to speak. Devilish whispers clawed at my mind, their talons dragging through the thin veil of my sanity. They crawled under my skin, twisted and warped, scratching, gnawing, urging me toward darker desires.
The hunger took root.
It is a thirst that can never be quenched and only briefly soothed by blood, the only thing that can quiet the storm within me. But even in its offering, there is no peace. Only a fleeting silence that tastes of iron and regret, broken only by the maddening screams of those I’ve taken, screams that echo in my veins, a symphony of suffering that never fades.
I look into the mirror and what I see is not my reflection. It’s something older, something more feral—a grotesque thing, wearing my skin like a mask. It grins back at me with eyes blackened by malice, and I realize with a sickening certainty, the devil is not out there. The devil is in me, wrapped in flesh and blood, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed.