Incessant, terrible screeching fills my mind. Eyes of blue and gold shut tight to try and block it out and yet it does not work. I grasp onto the solid stone earth, claws raking roughly across it, as my ears are pinned back upon my head. The demon suckles strongly at my teat, his pointed nails driving into my tender belly, and yet this squealing is even more unbearable than that. It is like daggers are being raked along the innards of my skull, bone tingling, terrifying in its sound and the sensations it brings.

I resist it with all of the vigor that remains in my weakened body as my hackles flare into a display of white and gold shards upon my spine. I lash out toward my child, teeth clasping only millimeters from his vulnerable flesh as a ravaging snarl ripples through my throat. I do not wish to harm him, not truly, and yet this tormenting thing in my brain does otherwise. It seeks to control me but I am not a creature to be tamed by any – not even the whims of an unseen devil.

I recoil from my newborn then, massive figure of shadows and gold retreating into the furthest reaches of the rock-formed den to save the life that is within him. I must nearly drag myself from him, his birth being almost too much for me to sustain, and here against this wall do I lay. The perturbing sound does not cease its attack upon my mind despite my distance from the whelp and I thrash my head to and fro to rid myself of it. The motion of such an act banging muzzle and skull against the harsh rock surface of my home in demented hope that it may help. Blood trickles from my lips as my fangs cut into my own flesh from the force of the blows and I soon admit defeat.

With a huffed, ragged breath I lay my head upon the earth, scratching at my ears with my forepaws amongst a fit of torment fueled rage. There is something wrong and there is no one who can save me now.