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I was slipping; I could feel the monster clawing its way out from the corners of my mind. I relived those memories, long suppressed, flashing through my head, a blade glistening, a woman screaming, my father's breathe, toxic, rolling onto my face. I fought against the urge to give in, but knew if I did millions of people could die. I tried to reign in the beast, to calm my racing heart, to clear my mind, but, as always, he was just too strong.
Then, I looked into the eyes of the terrified redhead lying next to me, those terrified, blue eyes; the eyes of someone staring into the Reaper's Scythe. I knew she would die if I didn't try.
So, I filled every last bit of strength that I could muster, every ounce of my being, into my chest, let it fill until I was sure I would burst and I released it, my final attempt at a fight.
But it wasn't enough; it barely caused him pause.
I felt him fly ahead, desperate to taste the air, to see freedom, and I knew he would get his c