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Kris flexed their hand. The pulse of the soul trapped in their fist quickened, as if it was scared.
They tightened their grip, not out of any real malice, but curiosity. The soul resisted in their hand like a physical object, the feeling was not unlike trying to force the same end of two magnets together. Kris felt that if they squeezed too hard, it would slip out of their hands entirely. The thought didn’t frighten them like it used to, they weren’t really scared of it anymore. It was getting easier to tear out.
It was also getting louder.
They preferred it before it started to talk.
