being forcibly caged within an unknown hell dimension really fucks one over. illyana knows this for a fact && tends ( likes ) to make sure everyone knows. she seems to garnish some sick pleasure from informing those around her, to see the fear and confusion wash over them, despite the fact that her time spent in limbo takes a toll on her every single moment of her life, waking or otherwise. she herself is full to brimming of fear, of terror and an overwhelming uncertainty that not even the most intelligent of beings might understand. a dark, feral thing birthed in the furthest depths of the abyss threatens to tear itself from her very being, to shed blood in her name ─ it s c r a t c h e s at her insides, aching for a release refused. as of late, the unwelcome manner in which it begs has become severe ───── grievous, so much so that it physically pains her to bear the weight of it. why the foul creature has chosen now to make the most of its presence is beyond her, but each miniscule second passed fighting it back causes only more dread. eventually, illyana will have to let it out ─ perhaps she even wants to let it out, to let the darkchild have its way with her being, to tear her apart until there are nothing but shreds of a soul corrupt and stained with the remnants of so many stolen lives. daddy liked me better. daddy. a scoff sounds from lips dry and torn from too long at brunt of sharp canines. bitten in endless frustration; the word has her skin crawling as though a million maggots squirmed just beneath. "we are one and the same, you wretch," she hisses in retort & in russian nonetheless, a backwards tongue; arguing with dead space, silence. the voices in her head. “& that fucking pig belasco was never my father.” this is why you need to let me out. scratch. scratch. more scratching, more pain. she can't remember being so weak. let me out so i can show you. "there is nothing to show──" LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. LET ME OUT. "stop!" hands clutched at her head, fingers tight around handfuls of blonde. terrible visions of gore, of demons burned into the backs of dead, white hues, temples throbbing in pain. those shrill, awful screams. she wants to fight, but is ultimately rendered useless. retaliation is not an option. "enough! please, please…" & quiet. a sudden end. soon.