"Do you hear me, king?" comes a whispering voice from the looming darkness, "You cannot fight me forever. How art thou fell from the throne, oh Marcos, king of Ignatia,"
Marcos screams and tips over a drawer. "Stay out of my head, devil!"
Each time this voice spoke, it felt like it was whispering behind his ear and he would turn around to attack but would instead wreck something else in the room or hit a wall.
"*How much longer can you hold on to your sanity? Sooner or later...you will give in,*"
"I'll never give in! Not again! Not to you!" he shouts, looking around the room, "I will fight you every night for centuries if I must! You will never touch my core!"