ALTER EGO

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She saw it, she saw him, the Devil, 

dark, large, and scary; she could feel his presence. 

Yes, she was on a boat, a large boat, standing in line as if waiting for something. 

Then the line was becoming shorter and shorter; it became so short it felt as though the endless line was being slit in order to make way for her arrival. 

She could feel her blood being drained for all its gold; it felt as if she was paying to skip the line. 

And then she saw four large chairs made of stone, so large they stood high as if they were skyscrapers but even larger. 

In the middle of them, the largest of the chairs was empty, but it still released some type of deadly pressure; 

yet that pressure felt soft and comforting, like sleep, the most comfortable of sleep. 

Her body moved forward as if mechanically, as if it was being controlled by an unknown force, a force that was impossible to stop,

 no, a force that was inevitable, a force not strong but still. 

Then, before she could move forward, the large devil that stood behind her held her by the shoulder, pulling her back, 

and before she could react or look behind, she had already awoken from her dream, no, it seemed too real to be a dream. 

She could feel it; her body had changed. She could hear their cries, 

yes, the people fighting close to her; she could hear them screaming with voices of death. 

And then she could hear them, the songs; she swore she had heard them before, no, this was not the first time, yes, in the dream, the people who were standing in line with her were singing the same songs. 

They were singing the same thing, yes, her too; she was also singing with them, although she didn't realize it at that time. 

Now it was clear; she was also singing the song, and these people, even in the chaos, still sang. 

She then followed the sound, trying to see the person singing the song that felt too familiar; she followed him but saw nothing. 

Yes, she could hear him, but it was as if he was invisible. 

The song was so calm, so peaceful, so beautiful; it was as if it was made for a king. 

Then, behind her was a boy holding a sword; he then suddenly stabbed her in the chest. 

The sword penetrated so deep she could see it on the other side of her body, but there was no blood, none that could be seen. 

Reacting out of instinct, she quickly grabbed him by the neck. 

"This strength," she thought, tightening her grip harder; it was as if she was holding a toy, a fragile toy. 

Lifting him by his neck, she easily broke it; as it was broken, he dropped to the ground, but she could feel it. 

After she took his life, he was doing something she deemed too familiar; he was singing. 

"Beautiful," she thought, but then she looked at her chest; the sword was still impaled in it. 

Taking it out in swift action, there was nothing; she felt nothing, no pain, no discomfort; in fact, it was comfortable. 

The wound healed instantly, but she could smell it; she was becoming hungry. 

It was not the normal hunger; it was as if she was needing something to fill her empty space. Then white light; she could see them, souls leaving bodies. 

They were like angels, but they didn't look like humans at all. 

All she saw when she looked at them was a missing piece, as though she needed them somehow. 

Walking towards the disappearing balls of smoke, she stretched out her arm, and they entered her body. 

Then the hunger she was feeling disappeared entirely; the rest of the souls she was seeing also disappeared, as if what she had seen didn't exist, as if it wasn't real but a distant dream, a distant reality that never happened.

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The killing never stopped; it was continuous, unending.

 Asha could feel the power radiating from it, but he didn't take it. 

Fear was in his heart; he knew that if he lost control, 'he' would come out. 

He knew too much about him to give him control. 

"ASHBA," Asha's alter ego, or should we call it his schizophrenic personality? 

Yes, this is exactly why Asha liked the novel, for it had something other novels didn't have: two protagonists that shared the same body. 

One was neutral and made evil, and the other was born from the roots of evil itself. 

If Asha was known to be the reaper, ASHBA was known as mercy, for he was the one to give you a swift and painless death, a death so fast one wouldn't realize they were dead, 

one so fast it would delay the soul from leaving the body, for even the soul wouldn't know what transpired.

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Hi everyone, 😂 yes this chapter has a different form of writing , I mostly did this to compensate the tone of the chapter , tell me if you are finding any problems understanding it , if you are make sure to comment, just read it slowly then you will understand it ❤️‍🩹

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