Control

Seven's body remained frozen before the creature's corpse, standing over it as if mocking its helplessness, even in death. Inside, Seven was screaming, thrashing against the unseen force that had taken control of him.

Why? Why was this happening to him?

All his life, he had been a puppet, tossed around, used, discarded when no longer needed.

He had tried so hard to fit into society, to follow the rules, to act like everyone else.

But in the end, it never mattered.

He was always left behind. And now, when he had finally wanted to reclaim his life, to make something of it, he was thrown into this unknown world, forced into another nightmare.

Unfair. It was just so damn unfair.

And worst of all? He wasn't even allowed to die on his own terms. If this was how it ended, without even knowing what had killed him, then what was the point of anything? His entire life flashed before his eyes, each painful moment seared into his mind.

Being used. Being abandoned. Again and again.

Something inside him snapped.

No more.

He refused to be controlled again. Never again.

"Damn you! Let go of my body! This is mine!" he howled internally, his rage burning hotter than the fire he had just summoned.

He fought back, pushing with every ounce of willpower he had left.

The unseen force resisted, tightening its grip, forcing his body to move against his will.

His lips parted, and foreign words spilled out:

"Aukae gari."

But Seven wasn't done. He wouldn't stop.

He screamed harder, forcing his mind against the suffocating presence. His body trembled, muscles twitching as if caught in a silent battle.

This was his body. His life. And there was no way in hell he was going to lose it to some nameless entity.

Seven didn't stop. He cursed the entity over and over again, spitting insults in his mind, hammering it with relentless defiance. He refused to give it even a moment of relief.

"Hey, you damn ghostly presence, get out of my body this instant!" he bellowed internally, his thoughts crashing like waves against the unseen force.

He didn't care if his voice was swallowed by the void.

He didn't care if it seemed pointless.

He had spent his entire life following orders, being pushed around by others, being used and discarded, but not this time. Not anymore.

His body wasn't his to control, but his thoughts? His mind? That was still his, and he'd make sure this damn thing knew it.

If he had to be dragged into this unknown world against his will, if he was going to die here, he'd at least go down screaming.

But then, his body moved.

His right hand, still gripping the dagger, slowly lifted toward his face.

Seven's stomach twisted as he realized what was happening. The blade turned in his grasp, its sharp tip aligning perfectly with his left eye. His muscles tensed as if they weren't his, his arm steady as if daring him to keep struggling.

A silent warning. If you don't stop resisting, you will lose an eye.

Seven's breathing hitched, but he didn't look away. So this thing could hear him. It wasn't mindless after all.

And then, slowly, a grin spread across his lips.

It was subtle at first, barely more than a twitch, but as the realization sank in, it grew.

The entity had been in complete control, forcing him to obey its will, but the fact that it reacted to his resistance meant one thing, it wasn't invincible.

So, you can hear me, huh?

The thought dripped with amusement, with something close to triumph.

For the first time ever, he had forced something's hand.

His heart pounded, not with fear, but with something far more dangerous, a spark of reckless determination.

This isn't over.

Seven laughed. A deep, unhinged chuckle that made his own body tremble.

His own voice came out, though he hadn't willed it to. That meant the entity had allowed it. Or maybe, just maybe, it was slipping.

You made a mistake, you bastard.

He had spent his whole life pretending to fit in, pretending to be like everyone else, trying to follow the rules of a society that only chewed him up and spit him out. But here? Here, he had nothing to lose.

Here, he wasn't going to play by the rules anymore.

His eye remained locked on the dagger's tip. His body was still not his to command. But now? Now, he had hope.

Just then, Seven poured every ounce of his willpower into his body.

He wasn't just resisting anymore, he was fighting back, full force.

The entity had been forcing him down, suppressing him, but it had underestimated him. It thought he was just another weak-willed soul to possess, another puppet to dangle on its strings.

Big mistake.

Seven slammed back with everything he had, like a dam bursting all at once.

A surge of raw, burning defiance shot through him, overloading the entity with sheer resistive force.

He could feel it, a crack, a falter, the slightest give.

A wicked grin spread in his mind.

He was going to f*ck this thing up.

Seven continued his relentless assault, tearing into the entity with every ounce of his willpower.

He didn't know what he was doing exactly, but he didn't care. His instincts screamed at him to fight, to push back, to dominate. He had spent his entire life being used, a puppet to people, to circumstances, to fate itself. But not anymore. Not this time.

He dug in, his mind turning into a battlefield, and he refused to lose. This was his body. His mind. His soul. He would burn this entity out, tear it apart piece by piece, crush it under the weight of his sheer defiance.

Then, his body stiffened. His knees hit the cold, unforgiving ground.

And Seven grinned.

Oh, joy. True, unfiltered joy.

For the first time in his life, he wasn't the one being controlled. No, he was the one in control.

The entity wanted to steal his body? Fine. Then he'd rip it out in the most brutal way possible.

No mercy. No hesitation.

His mind, which had been screaming in agony moments ago, suddenly felt clearer. Sharper.

Seven grinned internally, a twisted sense of joy bubbling up inside him. Oh, how wonderful this world was.

For the first time in his life, he was the one in control, not the puppet, not the discarded piece, but the one pulling the strings. The irony of it all made his amusement nearly unbearable. This entity had tried to dominate him, to reduce him to nothing more than a vessel. But now? Now he was the one laughing.

His screams stopped. He no longer begged, no longer resisted in the way the entity expected. Instead, he whispered two simple words:

"Aukae gari."

The same words the entity had spoken when Seven first started screaming.

Seven didn't know what they meant exactly, but he could guess.

The moment those words left the entity's lips, it had been trying to silence him. To shut him up. To control him.

And now, he threw those very words back in its face.

Keep quiet.

That's what it meant, didn't it?

His grin widened. Pathetic. The great, all-powerful ghost, the thing that stole his body, was now taking orders from him.

He could feel it, the hesitation, the slight recoil, the way the pressure in his mind wavered for just a second.

Good.

Seven wasn't just going to fight back anymore.

He was going to break this thing.

He had been struggling against the thing controlling him, screaming and thrashing like a cornered animal, but while doing so, something else had happened, his mind had started watching, Observing, Processing.

And now, he had found it.

A presence. A parasite.

A foreign substance latched onto the depths of his consciousness like a festering wound. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but now that he had sensed it, he couldn't unfeel it.

It was there, lingering in the farthest corner of his mind.

A fragment of a soul? Black magic? He didn't know, and he didn't care.

All that mattered was that it didn't belong.

And now? He wasn't just pouring his willpower into the fight.

He was aiming it. Directing it.

Seven channeled everything, his rage, his frustration, his will, into that one point. His very existence coiled like a predator ready to strike.

He was not going to stop.

He was going to rip it out. Tear it apart. Erase it.

And when he was done, there would be nothing left of it.