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I am trapped in darkness and sinking down into it with every breath. It's nice in the darkness. Quiet and cool and weightless. I can hear a voice that sounds like mine speak, but my mouth doesn't open, doesn't form words but it's okay. Everything feels fine, like drifting to sleep. The voice that's mine but not mine echoes around me, around everything, and then, a second voice joins in from far, far away.

"We have freed you, Darkness, please," the man begs, his voice familiar. I try to picture his face, but it's out of focus. Instead I only see the knife he held against my skin.

I sink deeper, pushing the image away.

"Freed me? You cannot free what cannot be contained. You have done nothing but summon me. And for what purpose?"

The man stammers out his response, "this world is...is falling apart. We only wish… we only want to fix it. To begin again."

"And who is to say that you are part of what needs to be fixed? What makes you special?"

There is a cracking sound and a scream. Bones snapping.

"You are nothing special," the voice continues. "You are flesh and bone and blood, just like those you wish to exterminate. Your supremacy is unfounded, and you have irritated me."

The screaming continues, more yells of pain join from others in the room.

There is no fear here in the darkness, those voices seem distant. Their pain cannot reach me here, slowly drifting down, down, down.

As the quiet starts to extend into the space outside, the voice hums softly.

"I quite like using this body," it says. "It is stronger than the others, but its power sleeps too deeply to be a nuisance."

And then, a voice comes through the fog, so clear I can feel it like a physical ache.

"Bella."

"Ah, it seems I've missed one," the voice says and something in the air around me shifts, chilling me.

"Leave her alone," the male voice says, cracking and familiar and desperate. There is a creaking, a sharp shrill whine like a door opening somewhere.

"Very interesting. I haven't encountered one of your kind in a very long time."

The male voice ignores this, instead continuing to plead for 'Bella' to be freed.

"I wonder how strong you are against…this."

The man's cry of pain is enough to completely destroy any sense of peace found here in the darkness. He gasps out, "this isn't you, Bella. Come back to me. Come back."

And I want to, but I'm not sure if I can.

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Edward's hand is already healing, the Darkness watches it with interest as the bones set themselves. He keeps saying her name, begging her to find a way back.

The Darkness twitches, as if something is pulling at it from the inside, but quickly rights itself, Bella's body rigid and watching with its pitch black eyes.

"She's fighting you, isn't she?" he smirks at it, and then changes his tone. "Bella, I know you can hear me. You said you wanted more time-we can have it. We can have all the time in the world, just come back."

The Darkness roars, twitching and twisting and snarling, screaming, "I am not finished yet! I am only beginning!"

Edward ignores this, continuing, "you are stronger than this."

"She isn't!" the Darkness screeches, waging a war he cannot see. "She wants this!"

He can't help but think of the day he met her, the day he'd leapt after her from that rooftop, frantic and trying to ignore the way his heart seemed to twist in his chest the moment he'd touched her.

And he wonders...what if he just...reached his hand out to brush along her cheek.

Her skin is clammy and she's shaking so hard she's practically vibrating. The blackness of her eyes swims and swirls and fogs.

"You...cannot...do this," that voice breathes, the one that isn't entirely hers.

"Bella," he says one more time. "I'm here when you are ready."

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It's harder than I thought it would be, to win. While the Darkness is soft and cool and quiet, there is something warm and bright trying to make its way to me. When he touches me, the Darkness shudders and hisses and I tell it soothingly to not be afraid.

Because that's what it is feeling. Fear. I can feel it loosening, as if I'm peeling away layers of cloth, but I don't want it to leave.

It has been so much of me for so long-who am I without it?

What am I without it?

You are in pain, it says. I can take all of it away.

It's tempting. It is.

But the pain isn't everything.

Yes, there is pain, but there is joy and warmth and laughter, too.

There is Edward. Yes. That's his name.

That's him.

Things will hurt. Things will always hurt.

But there will always be something else, too.

I can see the green of his eyes, glowing softly, lighting my way back.

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A few more chapters left maybe?