"It's a demon," she whispered, closing her eyes as the tears threatening to fall finally spilled down her cheeks. The confirmation of what she was dealing with was no comfort. Wanda knew what possession meant, least of all that Wicked was right. With this monster inside her, she was a danger both to herself and others on the Sphere. But she had nowhere else to go, and the thought panicked her. "I have someone. He's getting my soul back," she explained in a choked and desperate voice through her tears. "He can get rid of this thing." Even as she spoke, she felt her control slipping with her rising despair.
"No he can't," the rasping voice that came out of her mouth, the horrible laugh that followed, were not her own. It was the thing she'd been hearing in her head, taking full possession of her for the first time with Wanda conscious and aware of it. The sensation was strange and horrible, a prisoner to herself, unable to stop this subjugation as a monster used her body as its puppet. The tiny sliver of her soul that Daimon gave her was her only defense, and she focused on now. Both valuable and a liability, it could temporarily curb the demon, but the ability it granted her to feel again left Wanda open to manipulation in her pain and fear. After an inner struggle physically manifested as Wanda swayed where she stood, whipping her head back and forth, she regained her tenuous control. Gasping for air,she lurched forward and clutched the bench to stay upright before finally looking up at Wicked again with horror on her face.