Work Text:
You could hear things. Whispers, a sly murmur. Some days it got overwhelming, a cacophony of sounds that only the crawling burning urge could remove. Some days it was just a nudge, a little reminder. It ebbed and flowed with the rage, filling your body and lengthening your claws, while it drained your spirit away.
You didn’t remember when it started. It hadn’t always been this way, it couldn’t have been. They would’ve commented on it. You would’ve heard. But you could hear them now, bright and sharp as sunlight. The mocking sneers, the pity, the disgust. The voices you’d learned to tune out, piercing into your very being.
Some days you wished you weren’t caged, so you could destroy them all. Others, you’d wish you weren’t caged, so someone could destroy you.
The whispers were always there. A trickle of sand that meant you could never forget what you were. What you have to do.
You were created for this. For blood, for the urge. It pounded inside you faster than your very heartbeat, determined to consume you. Providing you with peace, and devastation.