by Haywood, RR
‘Wotsthat?’ I force energy into my voice.
‘Yes,’ William’s says slowly in a deeply satisfied voice, ‘watching a good man fall is better than any mortal sin I could ever force this body to perpetrate and watching you, Mike. That was the best one by far. You tried so hard to resist me didn’t you? You clenched your fists and begged me to stop. Do you remember that day?’ He asks gently, ‘that day in the car park, do you remember it?’
I do remember it. I remember leading from the house I found him in and waiting for the prisoner transport to arrive. I remember he was handcuffed and…
‘…yes I was handcuffed,’ He says as though reading my thoughts, ‘but you took some goading. My word you took some goading…do you remember it?’ He asks again with a hunger that seems to overshadow the actual words he uses, ‘do you remember beating me?’
He did goad me. He kept on goading me. He told me how much he enjoyed it, how much fun it was. He told me details of what he did…
‘Oh your face,’ He speaks deep and quiet, hushed almost, ‘your emotions played out on your face so clearly I didn’t need to feel what was inside you.’
I told him to shut up…
‘But I didn’t shut up, did I, Mike?’
I threatened him to be quiet…
‘But that didn’t work either did it.’
I begged him. I fucking begged him to stop and be quiet as the rage started to build.
‘Oh you did. You begged and pleaded but that rage was evident. It radiated from you. It consumed you and I knew, I knew, Mike. I knew I had you.
I hit him.
‘That first punch was beautiful,’ He reminisces, ‘strong and hard.’
I hit him again and kept on hitting him.
‘But I didn’t stop did I, Mike? I didn’t stop telling you how much I enjoyed it. How much you would enjoy it.’
I beat him to the ground but he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop telling me what he’d done and how those children had screamed in pain and torture.
‘And there you fell,’ He murmurs inside my head. ‘A great man taken down. You beat this body unconscious and you had no idea that the thing inside could never be touched.’
Inside. The thing inside.
‘And Johnny boy recovered and your society, your Christian society fell upon you like a pack of wolves, didn’t they, Mike?’
The thing inside. There was a ghost in Huntington House. I saw it. It was real. A ghost. A spirit of a man that lived and died.
‘You are draining so quickly now,’ He whispers to me, ‘and I just get stronger. I’m taking your energy, Mike. Taking it and do you know what I’m going to do with it? I shall use your energy to hurt more children.’
A man dies yet his spirit remains. Spirit. The thing inside. The spirit inside. The soul.
‘It’ll be your face they see next time,’ His voice is edged with a harsh gravel, ‘not Williams but Mike Humber. Williams is old and failing but your body is hard and strong. All that exercise has given you great strength but you have no goodness left to fight me.’
I’m not good, I was never good but I had will. I have will. I deny myself the things my body craves. The thing inside. Williams is…he’s coming inside me. Not Williams. The thing inside Williams. That thing is draining me, taking my energy. He expended energy and now he takes mine and he’s creeping towards me. Insidious and dirty with tainted breath.
‘Oh you are perfect,’ No longer Williams’s voice but another. Deeper. Harsher and inhuman, ‘you will serve me well.’
Serve. Servitude. Thing inside me. The devil is waiting. I am waiting. Spirits and ghosts and no will power.
‘Almost,’ The ragged voice says, ‘almost mine…mine to enjoy…you’ll like the little children, Mike. They scream and make such noise…’
I have will power. I have the power of denial. I deny myself the things my body craves. I deny alcohol. I deny medication I became addicted to. I have to hold on. I deny sleep and refuge from the raging torment of my mind. It hurts but I have to wait. Every day for months I felt pain more than I knew existed and I added to that pain. I ran until I puked then ran some more. I pushed and pulled until my hands bled and my muscles cramped with excruciating agony, then I did it again. That gave me power.
‘Almost…’
Denial. I will deny you but not yet. A new voice speaks but one that is deeper within me. A secret voice that he cannot hear. The voice of my conscience and will power. The thing that pushes me on every day and never lets me turn away from a bad deed done.
‘Almost…’
I will deny you….almost there, hold on Humber…for every bad you’ve done just fucking hold on.
My eyes snap open and I see it. I see it leaving Williams and passing that short distance to me. A darkness of shadow and twisting features that flow from him to writhe in pain from being outside of a host. A thing that wilts from the pureness of the sun but seeps hungrily inside me. An icy repulsion tenses every muscle in my body but I wait and let it happen. The beast…the demon is slow to leave the one it has held for so long but it wants me and I have to let it keep coming. I want to scream and fight but not yet, it must keep coming.
Mine…you are mine.
The voice echoes through my head to roll around my skull with a pain that sears and burns. Images start racing through my mind’s eye. Images and memories, feelings and emotions. The life of John Williams played out in a split second as the transient memories of one host are taken into the new one. I see Williams as a child being held by his mother. I see Williams being beaten by his father. I feel the bitterness swelling inside him that grows with every passing year of his life. The essence of the man without the demon driving him on and that essence is as filthy and corrupt as it is now. I see Williams through his own eyes as he hurts children and those weaker. I see them cry and scream in pain. I feel his glory of power at the destruction he causes. I see Elizabeth refusing to cry until he starts on her little sister then she begs and pleads and demands him to leave her alone. I see Elizabeth begging Williams to take her instead, sacrificing herself to save Alison. Victims countless and many one after the other. An altar of black candles. Somewhere dark and a pleasure passes through Williams as he draws a circle on the ground and a five pointed inverted star within the circle. He speaks words that summon a darkness and offers his own mortal flesh as the vehicle. He chants and wails and coaxes it from the realm it inhabits and then power floods into his body as the demon doesn't come by invite but takes what it wants. The emotions now are dark and twisted. Ancient beyond comprehension of a thing that was held in the blackness of eternity until summoned and now unleashed upon the world. I see murders of immigrant men, women and children. I see the demon and Williams take those that won’t be missed. I see deception and guile, cunning and a hunger for destruction that will never be satisfied.
And now it wants more. It wants me because I am stronger than Williams and I am the result of the destruction caused. This demon brought me down for pleasure, for entertainment and now it thinks I am weak enough to be taken.
I can’t fight it. The darkness is too deep inside me to fight off. It’s past the point of no return and I watch as Williams slowly drains from the life force that used him for so long. My hands, shaking and trembling reach up inch by inch towards his neck. I can’t get there, I can’t stop this thing from breaking my will.
Fuck you. I deny you. I deny you and I allow this pain to happen. I deserve it so I welcome it. My hands wrap gently round his throat but his eyes are glassy and unfocussed. I need to grip and squeeze but I have nothing left. Nothing left? I’ve had nothing left for a long time but I’m still here and I’m still breathing like the stubborn prick I am. My hands grip hard and solid as the trembling ends with a surge of pig-headedness that refuses to be told what to do.
The demon feels the change and it tries to get back, to flee from the hidden strength it finds within me. A hidden reserve of spite kept back purely for my own self-loathing and
that stubbornness that drives me to inflict pain and agony when my body demands sleep and peace.
‘Having you inside me is just one more pain to add to the rest,’ I glare deep into his eyes and watch the spark of panic and fear show true within them, ‘I deny you….’ I growl and pull him down closer to my face, ‘but I’ll fucking keep you.’
The whole of me latches onto the demon and drags it back inside my gut. It squirms and fights and the pain threatens to tear me apart but I grit my teeth and swallow hard.
‘I was a detective,’ I force that pain out into the words that hiss from my mouth, ‘I caught the bad guys…and you…hear me now and hear me well….you…are…mine.’
Williams dies at my hands. The breath choked out of him and just as that last spark of life ebbs slowly away, so his head is jerked back by the slender fingers of Elizabeth that yank him by the hair as she drives the point of a steak knife deep into his right eye.
Trapped inside me and the demon fights but with nowhere to go it is terrorised into submission by the power of my self-loathing that suddenly finds something else to torment.
The lifeless form of John Williams slumps to the side while a demon writhes in the cage of my soul.
I have you.
Fuck you.
I win.
