My name is Yugi Motou. I'm nineteen years old, and for the current moment, I think I may be a victim of possession. Like, demon possession.
Now, I know what you're thinking, dear reader. You're thinking I'm absolutely insane, and I can't say that I blame you, really. Honestly, I wouldn't believe my own story if I hadn't lived it myself.
If you told me a month ago I would be vying for the attentions of my own sanity, I might've scoffed, laughed, chortled, whatever. If you had asked me the same question a week ago, I would've responded,
"Too late."
It's too late. He's already decided my fate. Who, you ask? The man. The one whom makes me cower at the very mention of shadows. He stole it you know.
My sanity. He keeps it in that fierce grip of terror, slowly suffocating it until there is no more of it—Me—left. He wants me to act as his puppet. But I won't play that game.