I remember the night my life changed. The night I realized who I was and what I was born with.
It was a cold evening, and I was staring out the window in my bedroom. The stars shone, their light piercing through the darkness of the night. I had been feeling strange lately, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something dark was calling to me.
I remember feeling strange—a tugging in my chest, like an invisible force pulling me somewhere. I tried to ignore it, but the feeling only grew stronger. I felt a deep sense of unease like something was amiss.
And then, suddenly, I heard a voice.
It was faint, but it was unmistakable. A voice I had never heard before, coming from somewhere else. Somewhere outside of me.
I knew instinctively that the voice was speaking to me. I couldn’t understand what it was saying, but it felt like I was being called. It was a voice calling from the depths of the night, a voice of someone who had passed away but could now reach me. I could feel it as if the person on the other side was trying to reach out to me and tell me something.
I didn’t understand it, but I knew that something was happening. I was born with a power I didn’t even know existed and that should never exist.
I realized then that I was born able to sense and communicate with the dead. I could feel the separation between the living and the dead, an extraordinary power binding them together.
At first, I was terrified. I felt like my life was somehow cursed by this power I had, like something was chasing me, and it would never let me be. I was scared, and I was alone.
But as I got used to this power, I learned to listen and understand the messages and stories of those who had passed on. I began to understand the power of communication with the dead and the importance of listening to their stories.
I felt their pain, sorrow, and joy. I heard their secrets, hopes, and worries. I was learning about the human condition, both the living and the dead, which was beautifully terrifying.
I was also beginning to understand that my power was also a gift. It was a connection and a source of comfort in a world filled with death and loneliness.
The more I understood this power, the more I understood myself. I was not as afraid as I had been, but the demons from the other side taunted me. They whispered to me in my dreams and called out when I looked at the stars. They promised destruction and death, a reward for all the power I was given. Power they swore to take. I’d gladly give all that they ask for if it didn’t mean my life and the lives of my bloodline would have to die. Even knowing that I would forever be a target, I am fascinated by the world that is certain to take my life and every life hereafter. I was born with the power to tap into it, which exists in an unseen world besides our own. A dangerous place with monsters too terrible to name. A world I call the Dark World.
