I'm not sure how long I can keep pretending.

Pretending to be what?

Sane. Normal. If people saw the real me, they would run. The would scream and the world would light up in terror. And rightly so. If they knew who I was and saw my thoughts, I would never escape. I'd rot and burn, and I'd take them with me. Until nothing was left. I would consume the very essence of their being, just like what you did to me, and then I would spit out the empty carcass. I would laugh whilst they screamed and cried. Whilst they whimpered beneath my feet like they should. Whilst I crushed them into dust.

I would flip that switch and give up. Stop pretending and start being who I really am. And all the people who thought they knew me would combust with the power of their knowledge. Once they knew they had shared tea with the Devil himself and lived to tell the tale. Once they knew they had touched Death and survived, they would cease to exist. They would empty out, just like the rest of them and nothing would matter.

No more would they be the boys and girls, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters they had once been. They would be infinitely more. Then they would be nothing at all. They would be the light and the dark. The sun and the moon. The earth, the sea and the air.

They would cower before me like my ancestors cowered before them. And would destroy them, and they would deserve every last bit.