Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25021361-20140604044739

So i'm really not sure how i'll do and feedback would be deeply appreciated. I was also thinking of calling it 'internal struggle' but ideally that would be critiqued as well.

story:

"Get out of here, you don't belong."

"But we do belong, we are here for you. We were born with you, and you with us. You cannot get rid of us by any means, we won't allow it. You must bow to us, cater to or die for us, and share your center with us."

"No, I refuse to be used by anyone other than me. I am my own master!"

"See, just now you admitted our existence which means you know we belong. You know we deserve an input and that we have authority here."

"No, you have no power over me and you have no authority here! I will rid myself of you, I will take back control and nothing will stop me."

"We will see about that, we are many and there is only one of you. We outnumber you, outrank you, and we will devour you."

"That is where you are wrong, see I have accepted my situation and I have embraced these urges. You think I am weak, that I am ill prepared for such a battle. You will be surprised and you will most surely fall."

"Urges, you think that makes a difference? I am confident, I will cripple you through sheer strength and dominance. He is neutral but is always on the side of what is best for his survival and will do anything to protect that. She is the smallest and weakest of the three of us but do not ignore her. She is deadly, look through her façade of tears and you will know pain. Do you still think honestly that you have a chance of survival let alone victory?"

"So much talk and such arrogance from a convoluted man like yourself is astonishing. But then again you did say you were confident, so it is to be expected. Well, have at it then siblings."

They pounced and rended flesh with tooth and nail. Hatred for him had become second nature and they relished in it. His bones groaned under the force they were exerting upon him until they snapped from the abuse. He lie there, never moving not a twitch not a wince or an ounce of emotion. They had disabled him, his limbs no longer lined with flesh. Now that he was immobile they began to feed on him. They had lusted for this moment for so long that they did not notice he was now bearing a smile that only the truly demented can comprehend.

"Now... It's My turn!" 