Prompt: "Scars of Control." (Requested by bracedfangirl)
There's something to be said about how your past comes back to haunt you. In the night, when all the lights are out and no one's awake to distract you, memories come to visit. They smile and wave, and take a seat, even if you want them to leave. Then they never do.
Sometimes, when the night was dark and the moon was hidden by clouds, Nya's mind wandered. Old things from years ago would greet her: meeting her mother, nearly marrying Nadakhan, giving up Samurai X. Sometimes the thoughts were older, like the Tournament or the Perfect Match debacle. They visited her with fear or shame, and relief that they were over.
This night, Nya's thoughts turned to her oldest hidden memory. The one that haunted her for weeks of sleepless nights when it was fresh. The ashen gray and evil purple, the all-encompassing rage… the stench and taint of the Overlord's hold on her mind, just before the final battle. It was an ugly memory, an old memory…
She closed her eyes tightly, rolling over in her bed and clutching the covers tightly to her chin. These memories were from when she was practically a kid. Why did they still haunt her? Why did she still feel it? The cold tendrils of possession on her mind, rending her free will… they were evil. She had been evil.
She sighed. It was past, now. She was Nya Smith– one day Nya Walker, if she had her way. The Overlord was dead by Lloyd and Zane's hands. She wasn't part of that stench anymore…
A single stubborn tear trailed her cheek. She hated nights like these. She hated these scars of control. She just wanted peace. She just wanted to be free.