Elcarim leaned against the door and took deep, ragged breaths of the cool air. His chest burned, the fabric of his shirt was charred, the numbers 666 visible through the hole in the fabric. His groin ached too, but that was a shameful pain. One he would prefer to endure than to remedy. Images still flashed across his mind.

She's helpless. You could take her now and she wouldn't tell a soul.

He shook his head to clear it of the dark thoughts.

NO. No. no...

The dark voice spoke again,

You know you want to...you can feel it in yourself...she's still there...you could be just as violent and savage as you want. You know you could. She's still in there...

"NO!" He said it aloud this time, through the tears that were making their way down his face. The voices inside him were still battling. The darkness had ebbed just in time, leaving him with a good look at what he'd been about to do. He'd run. He'd had no choice but run, or give into the carnal desire that was feeding through his system. He'd run rather than take her. Not there. Not like that.

She would have liked it. Women want to be dominated. They want to be taken by force. They LIKE being taken by force...

Elcarim sank down, leaning against the door with his knees drawn up to his chin.

Never. Not her...not anyone.

He felt the darkness coming again and shuddered. It had never happened twice in a row, so close together. He wouldn't be able to fight it this time. He couldn't keep doing it. And when it took him it would take everything...and then, next time, maybe he really would obey the dark voice.

Not if you don't let there be a next time...

He stood up and headed down the street.

If next time doesn't happen, then you cant hurt her.

All he knew was that when it finally took him, he had to be far, far away.

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