You were human once. One full of emotions. One full of potential. One full of happiness. But now it's not so, is it?
Your body stiff but loose, your voice monotone but powerful. Well, it's not yours anymore. A puppet on strings, that's what you are. A marionette forced to dance in a loop of despair and agony that's never ending. Your body is not your temple anymore. Your temple now belongs to that damned.. thing.
The citizens in Megapolis don't have any clue what this parasite is. They don't even know it exists. Not even in the books that you used to read that was about the famous legends mentioned anything that is inside of you. It's alien. Hostile. Full of evil and contains unimaginable horrors. You don't know where it came from. All you know is that you're it's host now. And nothing will stop it from achieving it's goal.
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A (H/C)-haired individual was taking a stroll around the city at about midnight listening to music. They didn't know where they were going, but they will know how to find their way back. They weren't in a rush. This person always found taking midnight walks more peaceful other than taking a walk during the day. There were too many people and it just felt better in a way.
The music in their ears blocked out the noise of robotic whirring. But their eyes swiftly caught what appeared to be a piece of wire for a brief moment. They stopped in their tracks and the hairs on their neck stood up. Taking out the earplugs they stopped to listen. They stood incredibly still for a minute or two before returning back to wandering. They instinctively started to widen their strides to move away from the area.
Is this what it feels like? To see what's not really you? And watch as your own body moves on its own? It was suffocating, relentless, torturous. Your reality would shattered. Was everything for nothing? Was this your finale of being alive? Why? Why is this happening? This isn't right. It isn't fair.
No one could hear the screams of terror and agony that night. Nobody came. They were missing for weeks. Then they returned. But they were off. The usual color of their eyes were yellow. They spoke in a dull tone. They voiced their actions. They had to keep their head up so it wouldn't droop. There was nothing in their eyes that showed life but their lips were curved into a simple smile.
How unfortunate is it not?