Eight

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( Soul's POV )

Spinning under the lights as Asura sped off, my stomach churned as more blood escaped from my wound.

But I didn't care, I wanted Maka. Her soft voice filled with care before she faded, her blades drawn.

I wish I could be by her side, ripping whoever shot me head off, her hands on the pole of my scythe.

A hiss escaped my throat as I held on tighter, it burned my soul, like something was eating me from the inside out.

" We're almost there, Soul. Don't give up on me. " His harsh voice grew warm, pulling me up higher as he skidded past the white doors.

Bright lights hit my sight, blinding they were as my head fell back. Stars in my vision, lust for pain growing in my chest.

" What is this feeling? "

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