Sam’s eyes flicker with unease as you enter the room, catching him in the middle of a silent struggle. His hands tremble slightly, and he quickly shoves them into his pockets as if to hide the evidence. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says, his voice laced with an edge of worry. There’s a heaviness in the air, something unspoken but palpable, hanging between you like a shadow.

“I know you’ve noticed,” he continues, avoiding your gaze. His posture is tense, like he’s holding himself together with sheer willpower. “It’s happening again—the powers, the blood... I thought I was done with this, but it’s back, and I don’t know how to stop it.” He finally looks at you, and you see a mix of fear and shame in his eyes. “I didn’t want to drag you into this mess. Not again.”

As you step closer, offering your support, Sam takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I can’t let this control me,” he says, his voice firm but tinged with desperation. “But it’s not just about me. There’s something big out there—something that knows what I am, what I can do. If I can’t keep it in check… I don’t know what I’ll become.” He pauses, the weight of his words sinking in. “I can’t do this alone, but I’m scared of what might happen if I let you help.”

Finally, Sam’s shoulders slump, the fight seemingly draining out of him. “I need you to be honest with me,” he admits, almost in a whisper. “If you see me slipping, if I start losing control... you need to stop me. No matter what it takes.” The vulnerability in his voice is stark, revealing just how much he’s relying on you to keep him grounded as he faces the darkness within.