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I was glorious. I was strong. I was quick. I was vibrant. I was undefeatable.
Everything I have done always worked out. Even when I had to struggle with my life in the balance, I would be victorious. I basked in the light and soaked it up like a sunflower at its highest peak in their short and bright life. And like every flower had one, there was a turning point, away from the overflowing energy of life to the depths of death. Like every light, I had my shadow that would take over no matter what I would try to prevent it from happening.
Like times and times before, I came eye in eye with a powerful being, threatening to destroy the life that I had built. Trying to turn my sacred grounds unholy. To ravish the ones I love, the ones I sacrificed my life for to trying to protect them.
But this one was different.
I wouldn't win, I felt that I couldn't.
There was none of the stereotypical evil power oozing of them, nor the scary appearance many possessed, neither a look of promises that are of bad nature. They stood simply in the middle of the room, which was large and bone white. I am still not able to say whether they were male or female, as their face was masked and all features where faded out by an hellish white cloak that covered their form. The only distinguishable characteristics were their exceptional long brown locks and cold ice bleu orbs. Another noticeable thing, which I don't know was true, maybe it was just an illusion or my memories are altered after these horrendous times, were his sclera's. They were a deep purple which stood in great contrast to their shining appearance and piercing eyes. This fact and the villain's overall whiteness and lack of pressuring aura awakened an indescribable fear in my core. It was something I had never felt before.
And it froze me, and I felt as if I was on the verge of pledging silent tears in defeat even though we hadn't even touched our weapons. For the first time in my endless battle with evil I came across something that was far more powerful than I would ever become. The creature had to be in the possession of divine powers. They were my personal God.
Then I remembered that I had to protect. For a few seconds, not only my core, but my entire being, body, spirit and soul, were made of the same material: Fear. On top of the depressing angst of having to clash swords with this... beast, I was mortified for what would become of my protégés if I would happen to lose.
But, eventually, that second fear ended up being something positive. The more I imagined how my dear ones would be destroyed by this unknown creature, who was without any permission to even touch the floor of the same room where they could be in, the more the last fear became prominent. It overflowed the other, pushed it down and beat it to a bloody, worthless pulp.
And that fear became anger. Sheering and searing, red hot and fluctuating. Ultimate rage took over. My power seemed to burst from under my skin and burn the air. My heartbeat went through the roof and it felt like the wings of a hummingbird on caffeine as my vision blurred and sharpened on the rhythm of it. I bent my knees and lowered myself in a crouch. With a shaking hand of straining self-control I reached for my black, sleek katana that for some reason was stuck in the pristine white floor. It seemed to vibrate with my fury and I clenched it as lives literally depended on it. My remaining rationality was being soared away as I took off. With a blistering speed, I cruised to the still unmoving statue of the monster.
I felt like I was the raging supernova, that was destined to swallow a little, bypassing meteor.
I would do this.
I would win.
I would remain undefeatable victorious.
I raised my blade.
…
Nothing was less true.
As I almost reached my objective, I lost control. I couldn't move my body anymore. It was in motion still, without a driver it stayed going in the direction of the beast. The movements, however, became no longer fluid and graceful, but shocking and stiff. My light had shone to bright and my shadow had turned to dark. The darkness had taken over.
On the inside, I panicked like a maniac. Still, I couldn't even move a muscle of my face to show it: I was trapped in my own flesh.
The hysteria must have flashed behind the windows of my soul, because the creature had changed. Where the mask had been, was now a masculine face, whose eyes stayed indifferent as a smug smile tilted it's lips. It said that the now determined "he" had won, no matter if I had control or not. It predicted that he looked forward to what he would do to me and already had something in mind that pleasured him greatly. In a blink was all the fear back. It had never left.
The villain disappeared out of existence. I felt him reappear not an inch behind me and I felt him reach out and lay his hand on top of my head. Instantly, my out of control figure froze on its place, one knee lifted prestigiously in the air and the arm with the katana high to prepare for a vicious attack at the no longer there enemy.
The fingers of his hand curled inwards and the tips put my skull under an excruciating pressure. With a shock I could feel and move again and I screamed out in agony.
I felt an sucking sensation coming from the male. What he exactly did is unknown to me, as everything turned vague, my body went lax, but every feeling inside of me was as clear as day. I felt his power invade me from the top of my head through his fingertips and conquer every monocular fraction of my existence. It stayed there for an almost unnoticeable short amount of time, even though it felt like an eternity with the distressing pain it delivered, before it retreated.
But to my horror, I felt something rip. First, very slightly as his power only started to retreat, but nonetheless greatly uncomfortable.
Than his retreat accelerated exponentially and with it, the ripping sensation maximised. I screamed again, this time even louder, hoarser and with a mightier agony than ever before.
Never before had I been through something like this. The pain was unbearable and the action left me feeling drained, empty of every ounce of power that I had obtained throughout my life. I sank to the floor with the most pathetic whimper when the enemy's hand holding my head opened. I couldn't feel through the haze of pain and emptiness but I knew that blood had to be flowing down from the wounds that he had left.
The only thing that I could focus on was the fact that my grasp on life was weakening. Slowly I sank away in the darkness that was trying to pull me under, a frightening pitch of black where all nightmares housed, even though I couldn't recall what those where supposed to be. I struggled with everything I had to stay clear from that blackness, but it was no use as I had nothing left. The parasite had sucked everything out of me.
Still I had the feeling I forgot something as important as the universe itself.
As I was balancing on the verge of death on the stark white floor, the creature of my doom leaned down to speak softly into my ear. His voice was strangely comfortable and amiable, but it spoke awful things.
It explained to me how he would go down, back to the world of the living and innocent. How he would hunt down the only people I had ever cared for and given everything to, how he would stalk them and make their lives miserable. And then, when they would have lost the will to live and death would come as a relieve, he would give them back their hopes for a better live, only to crush it right away. He told me, with that velvet, horrendous voice of his, how he would use my own powers, even my own weapon which was a part of my soul, to kill them.
Kill them slowly and merciless.
And I would be able to feel it all, even though I died there and then on that cold floor.
I will be aware of every agony he'll ensue, how small it ever may be, as long as my weapon, my power, my soul, will be part of him, of his.
I will see them die. All of them.
It will be as if I did it.