The Darkness inside

by SoothingCoffee


Introduction is important, guys!

How do I start this story? Introductions? Yes, I should do that first, then how I got this power, and how I got into this mess.
 
My name is Jaime Copperfield, an anthropologist, a fan of the occult, and a writer. Or at least, I should be were it not for that damned book that I read for reference for my novel. It was a great book, actually. Full of stuffs, legends, from the entity called the Darkness to Angelus.
 
Of course, what I didn’t know was that I’m the lucky winner, because apparently, somehow, I was the first to open the damn book, in which the Darkness that was sealed in the damned book decided to make me its host.
 
A book in which I bought from a random antique book store.
 
But just because I got its power, doesn’t mean I could use it. Heck, I didn’t know everything in the book was even real before they kidnapped me. Who are they? You might ask.
 
Well, they’re the goddamned Brotherhood, a holy secret society bent on ruling the world and become the True God by using The Darkness, which by proxy, me. Basically, they’re the Illuminati. It also made me wonder why they would use a dark unholy entity of destruction for world domination. It seemed redundant.
 
They came in like a wrecking ball, put a bag over my head, injected an anesthetic to my neck and pulled me into a white van. They didn’t even offer me a candy (heresy!). And they’re not the nicest bunch either.
 
I remembered, when I woke up, disoriented, confused, and tad panicked. A man crouched in front of me on my knees, with arms bound by chains as well as my legs, pointing the barrel of a black Desert Eagle under my chin.
 
“Release the Darkness, boy.” He had ordered, his black hair were smoothly slicked to the side.
 
The only thing I could muster under the threat of death was a single confused, “What?”
 
He pistol-whipped me in the face, leaving me dazed with a painful bruise and left to God knows where.
 
The others, as if by an untold command, proceeded to drag and threw me into a cell full of burning lights, chaining me to a wall, and left me alone for a week, without food and water. Honestly, the cell was more of a padded room that you see in a psychiatric ward, minus the pads. I couldn’t even sleep, courtesy of the lights, and the confused little old me didn’t even know what the fuck was happening.
 
At least, until it quietly whispered, more of a hiss, into my head, “Get away from the light!!”
 
At first I thought it was me going insane, so I did what I usually do. I endeavor in my insanity, listening to the whispers as it got louder thorough the day. It was a repeat of promising vengeance, killing, ways to torture them, and telling me to unleash it.
 
Gradually, I learned that, yes. There’s the Darkness inside of me, making me into the host. Yes, I’m a host of the Darkness. Yes, I was captured by an organization bent over world domination by using the Darkness, and would do anything to get it. And yes, all of the things that I read from that damned book were probably real.
 
Thus, it was a fair game that I panicked when the cell door opened, revealing a nondescript person, wearing a long red robe and a bronze mask. Not that I could do anything of course. I was too weak to do anything. Starved and dehydrated for a week would do that.

How I was still alive, I didn’t know. I blamed it to the dark entity inside me.
 
The person stared at me for a moment, before shaking his head, moving to my side to unlock my chains, and then proceeded to drag myself to… somewhere. The only think I was thankful for was the fact that I was still clothed, making my friction with the cobbled ground to be at least bearable.
 
 
It wasn’t long before we stood in front of an impractically large golden door, the kind of door that you would usually see as the entrance to a video game’s final boss. Before the man opened the door by pushing it, and proceeded to drag me into a large dark room.
 
There were men in there, all of them covered in robe and mask, gazing at me silently as the man dragged me to a stone table. Before, not so gently, lifted and dropped me to the table.
 
A random person from the side moved forward to my side and locked my limbs to the table with the manacles that was already attached to the table, before said person went back to the crowd. And then, it was hell. Not literal, of course. That would be after I’m dead, if I’d ever be. Perks of being the host of Darkness is being hard to die.

Another masked man came forward, a rusty serrated knife in his right hand. He nodded at the men in the back, whence one of them proceeded to move to my side and forcefully held my jaws open.
 
I fought, but then again, being starved and starched for a week would leave you week, eh?
 
The man who carried the knife, I’ll call him Rusty, leaned forward, his knife pointed at me. “You know boy,” he whispered, “Pain is a good way to bring out your worst, or perhaps your darkness.”
 
I whimpered.
 
“We could do this the easy way, where you could just give us the Darkness, or I’ll,” his knife moved forward, slowly and menacing, “do what I do best.”
 
I wanted to say something, to answer that I can’t, that I don’t know how, that they could have it.
 
Unfortunately, being starched in a week would render you quite speechless. Literally.
 
“I see.”
 
His other hand, gloved, grabbed my tongue before it could retreat and pulled it. And then, like a woodsman with a saw, he slowly sawed my tongue.
 
I screamed as my body shook, tears poured out in pain and fear. I struggled against my chains, anything to relief myself from the pain. Rusty serrated knife moved forward and backward repeatedly against my tongue, red blood spurting wildly, filling my mouth with that coppery taste.
 
And it was after that momentarily numb relief that I realized I had no tongue. It was also then, that I realized, that I’d shat and pissed myself.
 
I looked at his hand, horrified as the limp pink flesh was thrown to the side. “Okay, boy. Which part do you want to say good bye?”
 
Then his mask moved to my eyes, specifically my right eye. “Maybe I shall take your sight, hmm? A little bit hard, but I’ve done this before.” He said with a clinical voice, and then his sight lowered to my hands. “Or maybe fingers? That would be easier.” He nodded to himself. “Fingers it is.”
 
Were there not blood filling my mouth, I would’ve screamed both in pain as fear. As it was, only a gurgle came out from it.
 

()_()_()_()

 
I screamed and screamed and screamed. Ignoring everything but the pain that the man was inflicting me, pieces by pieces, flesh by flesh, skin by skin, and muscle by muscle, he continued to cut with that damnable knife of his.
 
It was already past the point of, ‘Stop it’, to ‘Just kill me’ and the only relief that I had was that he never went to my reproduction tools. A dark part of me simply said that they probably want me to reproduce, create a new host for the Darkness if all else fails.
 
 So much blood was pouring out from my body, and were I not tortured at the moment, I would be impressed that I hadn’t passed out, or dead. It was probably something to do with the Darkness being a prick or the Brotherhood injected me something when I didn’t notice.
 
A sharp poke to my right eye made me scream louder, and clenched both eyes. He, that damned man, forcefully opened my right eye, and began to push the knife into my eye. Blood poured out of it as it slowly dug deeper, when suddenly he pulled it out. I screamed again.
 
“Let me out, Jaime. Let me out. Make them see your wrath, your anger. Kill them all, make them suffer, make them regret this. Just let me out.”
 
It was something strange really, like there was suddenly a switch in the back of my mind. It was more instinctual than conscious. And I pulled that switch.
 
It was almost unnoticeable, but I could felt it, the strange feeling that swam in my blood vessels. It was strange, and it was powerful. The man backed down, his knife clattered to the ground. But I didn’t let him go.
 
My right arm, suddenly recovered its five appendages wrenched from the manacle, breaking it, and reached for the man. Luckily, I caught him by the neck, and simply crushed it. He fell limp like a doll in my arm, before I let him go. Lifeless as he dropped to the floor.
 
I wrenched my other arm, and then my legs. And before long I was standing on beside the table.
 
A line of men stood in front of me, fiddling in panic with the large lanterns in their hands. Before they could do anything about it though, I lashed out my right arm, making a sweeping motion.
 
And as if on my command, a serpent-like arm from my shoulder swept them all on the legs. It was as if I got a new limb… no, it was more akin that I suddenly retrieved a long lost limb. It felt so right that it was almost creepy. Almost, being the keyword here.
 
And I also got two.
 
With mental commands, my new limbs began to decimate the fallen man. Impaled, bit, crushed, and thrown. One of the amusing one was when the demonic arms forced its way through one anus.
 
“Yes. Kill them, give them no reprieve, and make them pay for what they did to you. Crush them!”
 
And crush them I did. All of the masked men didn’t have a chance to defend themselves. The smart part of mine thought that they were all bored and probably thought that I wasn’t going to unleash the Darkness anyway.
 
The demon arms lashed out to them, and a few that succeeded to get past my lashing arms got their neck crushed immediately by my newfound superhuman strength.
 
Screams, cracks, groans, moans, and sobs filled the room as the brotherhoods were decimated into mangled, crushed, battered, impaled, bloody corpses. And then it was silence. Not a single thing was alive in the dark (as stupid thing to do, really) room.
 
Until one ‘corpse’ moved, it immediately got lifted by my right demon arm, before my left arm lunged itself to the heart, and dropped the man to the ground.
 
It felt good, the moment the demonic arms ate the heart. It felt satisfying, like the fatigue feeling that I felt before just suddenly passed, and that starvation was quenched. I opened my mouth, then I realized that, no, my tongue haven’t healed, yet.
 
And probably won’t.
 
Though, thankfully, my right eye was fixed already.
 
I let out a sad sigh, a part of me rejected to whimper, and as I looked around the pile of corpses, I felt quite happy with myself.
 
It was strange. A part of me knew that I shouldn’t feel that way, that I shouldn’t feel this satisfied, or heck, happy and that I should feel horrified with myself. But I didn’t, I felt the former, and it felt right. Perhaps, it was the effect of the Darkness?
 
Either way, I wasn’t complaining. These guys kidnapped me from my apartment, starved me for a week, and then tortured me.
 
I walked to the closest corpse to me, the torturer. I kicked him on the side, and again, and again, before I crouched down, searching his body until I felt something by his belt from his pocket, before pulling it out.
 
It was a handgun, or more precisely, a .50 black Desert Eagle. I looked up to the mask with suspicion, before I pulled it out of his face.
 
And surprise, surprise. It was the same man who pistol whipped me in the first day I was captured. I scoffed, before pistol whipping the man with his same gun, before I kept the pistol in my arm and continued to search for ammo.
 
I got four magazines.
 
Shrugging, I stood up, storing the magazines in my pocket, I examined the handgun, looking at it around. There was the safety switch on the right side, in off. I pushed at the small button near the magazine, holding the sliding magazine and looked at the top, before pushing it back with a click.
 
“That’s neat.” What I wanted to say, before I remembered that I had no tongue no more. I sighed, and walked to the large door. Demon arms ready to carry out a gruesome ways to kill at a moment’s notice, and I hoped that I was a better shooter than I thought.
 
I sauntered to the door, kicking a few bodies here and there as I did so, before pulling the door open.
 
I didn’t expect to see a girl, barely in her late teens looking at me with blue glowing pair of eyes, a huge stone lantern in her hands.
 
I didn’t even have the chance, nor did my demon arms to react, before a beam of light engulfed me. I screamed not for the last time at the immense pain, certainly worse than the torture, and the last thing I heard was:
 
“I hope you’re going to die, in wherever you’ll be.”
 
Before I was unconscious, and not for the first time, cursing my luck.
 

()_()_()_()

 
Then the rest wasn’t anything special, really. I woke up in the Everfree forest, accidentally met one of Equestria’s ruler, Luna, diplomatically talk with her, before we went to our separate way.
 
Found some neat things that I could do with my power, tested it on wandering ponies, gryphons, felines, changelings, buffalos, zebras and diamond dogs. Mostly Diamond dogs. And then labeled into the world’s first and only public enemy.
 
I also almost started a great war between races.
 
 Met Discord once, talked with, and went to our separate my way. Met Sombra, gave him a little push, and watched him go mad with power, before meeting his demise. Gave Luna a little push, before she lost control, disappointingly, to her power, started a civil war before she got magicked into the moon.
 
Then a very pissed off Celestia hunted me, unluckily (for me) found me, shot me with a sunbeam with the power equivalent of an atomic bomb (for me), rendered me in the state of near-death and then sealed me in a stone with a rainbow blast.
 
Which was how I got myself here, imprisoned in a stone for 999 years, which tomorrow will round it up into a thousand years.
 
And that’s when my story, in which are full of arsons, killings and wanton destruction as I terrorized little Equestria while filling up my homicidal needs by killing plenty of things. Mostly Diamond dogs.