It breathes--
Quick-- Sharp,
Stealing the little breath I have.
Shaking,
Quivering in fear,
Eyes and soul cast down
And waiting. For Fate.
It turns me into what is in my core:
A demon,
Grinning because it knows where the power is
And waiting for the right time to
Strike. It bites and gnaws
Waiting.

And it knows no one could love a demon.
The thought--
My pulse quickens
As it controls again,
Leaping for joy
As my heart is shadowed in blackness.