Insecurities

The filthy creature is rendering me speechless again — swallowing my words before they can make an escape. It’s infectious bite is causing my throat to swell making it hard to breathe. I can feel its grip tightening — its claws tearing beneath a new layer of skin with every pulsating ‘thump’ in my chest. My vision is slowly fading to black, the venom found its way to my heart.

I’m begging it to stop. I’m begging it for death. It doesn’t understand me.

It’s turning me — altering my biological being. Changing my molecular build — a mutation of my DNA. The change is complete.

My eyes, no longer my own. Poor unfortunate soul in my sites. My motives are clear. Filled with rage and emotion, I spew an infectious toxic acid towards my victim. One shot. That’s all it took. Poor soul. She begins to turn. But her beast is not like mine. Her beast is not like me. Good. Pure. Innocent.

What have I done?

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