C R i O S T A i
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I Feel that need like a thousand hiding voices whispering this is who you are. And you fight the pressure, the growing need rising like a wave; prickling and teasing and prodding to be feed. But the whispering gets louder until it’s screaming now. And it is the only voice that your hear. The only voice you want to hear. And you belong to it. To this shadow self. To this Dark passenger.
Dexter