“Please stop this.”
All you have to do is let go.
“I won’t.”
Let your rage consume you.
“Never again.”
And take back what is yours.
The figure stalks toward Jackson, whose arms now lay empty before him. The figure shifts between Donnie and uniformed officers, a taunting shift between the person who threatened to take someone from him, and the people who succeeded. The tears won’t stop, Jackson lay broken and helpless before the figure stalking towards him.
Their voice is distorted as they speak, it mimics that nagging voice that has haunted him for months.
Why won’t you stop this? The power is yours to command, only if you stop running away.
Jackson can’t lift his head to face the figure before him, his body betraying him. Shackled by his anxiety and memories of his grief, his words slur out of him.
“I’m not a monster. I won’t let myself become one.”
How else can you keep those you care for safe? All other means have failed you. Peace was never an option.
“You’re wrong, there’s always another way!” Jackson wants to scream, but his rage is overwhelmed by his sorrow.
What are you afraid of? Scared to hurt the wrong people? Scared of how they’ll look at you when they see what you really are? Do you fear they’ll see you as a monster when you claim what’s rightfully yours?
Jackson shakes his head frantically, “No, that will never happen. They’ll never look at me like that!”
Even when you finally lose control?
“No.”
When the darkness devours the sun, cloaking the realms in eternal night.
“That won’t happen.”
Are you scared of taking another life?
“Shut up!”
Do you dread the screams that would come from those who dare oppose you?
“Fuck off!”
Are you afraid you’ll enjoy the feeling of the life draining from your enemies?
“That’s enough!”
The figure stalks closer, grabbing Jackson’s face with a hand of shadows. Grief now replaced with rage, his fangs extend into full display as he snarls at the faceless shadow he’s forced to confront. His blood boils, the beat of his heart thundering in his ears. The hand grasping his face hardens its grip, shadows digging into the flesh like daggers. It speaks from a mouth of shadows, its voice echoing around him.
Tell me, little bat, are you afraid of the dark!?
Jackson’s mouth tears open, throat burning as he screams into the shadows. The world around him falls into darkness. His screams echo across the infinite void of the night, rage filling every corner of darkness. That was the night Jackson lost the world he had built for himself. The night he began closing himself off from his family, his realm, his magic, his world. The night Jackson lost himself to sorrow, rage, and bloodlust.
That was when the Darkest Night first filled the skies.
“NO!”
