by Tiana Laveen
“I have to. It’s going to spread and hurt people—more people than it already has. This isn’t one I can just walk away from and deal with later. I can’t take the chance of him getting away. Besides, there’s a young cashier working all alone tonight, and I have a feeling it has plans for him, too. I don’t want that to happen. This is a good person, Cruz. His name is Joseph and one day he is going to be a senator and an advocate for abused children. He’s got a great heart, has overcome many obstacles and one day he is going to do a world of good in this country. But he has to live in order to be given the chance…”
“All right, so now you’ve read someone and it’s become personal.” Cruz sighed. “I get it. As far as you being solo tonight, you can do it, but it’s just going to drain you dry, Saint, if you survive this. You may not even have enough energy to drive home. Wait … what was that?”
“What was what?” Saint asked as he closed and locked his car door, then took a few cautious steps towards the dumpster.
“I can feel something moving. Yeah, you were right. It’s definitely fucking someone… This isn’t good. Saint. I think I know who it is now.”
Saint closed his eyes and shook his head. His brief time there had gone from bad to worse.
“I do, too. It’s my own sin, the one I’ve struggled with most during my lifetime… Lust.”
I’m here to face it alone, behind a stinkin’ ass dumpster, in the middle of fucking nowhere.
He tore off his jacket and flung it to the ground. “Cruz, I’m going to hang up the phone in a second. We’ll need to speak strictly telepathically from here on out.”
“What’s going on?” Erika asked in the background, concern in her tone.
“Saint’s having a problem, baby, but we’re taking care of it.” He could feel Cruz getting up from the bed and relocating to the kitchen of his home. “All right, hang up. You have my undivided attention.”
“Good, because I’m going to need it. The seven deadly sins have set me up. Well played, mothafuckas.”
Saint smirked and took confident, yet careful, steps until he was swallowed by the stench of rotting food, used diapers, and a demonic force like no other. Two pale, thin legs moved on the filthy ground, their owner not visible from the waist up. The body appeared to be held up by the station wall. A large, lofty man, naked as the day he was born lay pressed between the milky white thighs. The ogre grunted and strained, pumping his cock like a piston into some woman who looked half dead. A pile of clothing lay nearby, and he took note of a company shirt that matched the name on the big truck parked on the other side of the property.
Saint breathed slow and steady as he made quick checks and balances, assessing key aspects of the situation. The woman more than likely was drunk off her ass, falling in and out of consciousness. The demon inside the host body of the truck driver had its way with her, the heady sex heavy in the air. The fiend’s growling grew louder and rougher, like a strained engine being revived, then let down hard. Its movements were inhuman, the noises it made monstrous. They weren’t the sounds of a pending climax, sexual highs and excitement, but the heralding of a brutal death.
Cruz broke into his thoughts with a warning: Saint, be careful… You’re facing yourself, the worst part of you. Like Krishna and I warned you, it will try to trick you…
Saint fixated on the devil, and the longer he watched the fuck fest, the harder his heart pumped, the angrier and more bewildered he became. He turned into the ogre, and the woman’s face turned into Xenia’s. He clutched his chest as pain spread across his ribs and his heart raced.
Saint, it’s a trick!
The woman’s face then slowly morphed into Payton’s… She was smiling at him, whispering, cooing, ushering him over with each violent stroke. Her legs shook, then her eyes bulged as a small trickle of greenish vomit trailed down her chin. Raucous laughter erupted from between her plush lips. Saint shook his head, his emotions and mind at war. The woman’s face then morphed into other women he’d fucked in the past, one after another, as though he were flipping fast through a telephone book. So many faces, so many voices! He covered his ears; the laughter and moans were deafening.
Saint blinked several times and rubbed his eyes. The demon looked over its shoulder at last. They glared at one another for what felt like an eternity. The fiend grinned, it’s face practically splitting like the Joker’s before it turned away. Its large back humped and it’s breathing carried to Saint in stereo. It pumped its host’s legs, fucking the woman to the point everything became a blur. The woman moaned in pain, but was too far under the influence to do much to help herself.
“Do you want some of this hot pussy, Saint?” the beast spoke, its words echoing and vibrating, louder than the best speaker money could buy. “You know you want some, you big, bad stallion you … you love to fuck. That’s all you want to do is fuck. It’s natural. It’s good. Don’t fight it. Join us.”
With each violent pound, he shoved her back against the wall. The beast wrapped its big, beefy hand around the woman’s fragile neck and squeezed as he shuddered, cumming deep inside of her with a raucous groan. Instead of stopping after it had climaxed, it kept on fucking, pumping its hips, never ceasing. The woman’s eyes rolled as she winced and raised a floppy hand in surrender, but did nothing more.
“I paid this whore ten dollars. Ten dollars for the fuck of a lifetime!” It cackled.
“Saint, don’t say anything to it just yet. I can see your thoughts. I can feel your anger, your rage. It will cloud your mind. The only reason why you’ve not attacked is because of me. I am trying to see what’s going on. I am inside of you, trying to plan the best course of action.”
“I must kill him, Cruz… Please, just let me kill him.”
“We’ve had to kill countless hosts, Saint, because there has not been a way to save them. They’re usually too far gone or there’s not enough time to perform much needed exorcisms. I know you initially wanted to save the truck driver, but you can feel it would put the woman in danger due to the time constraints, and you’re alone. You’ve now resolved that he needs to be killed. You’ve already planned to severe his spine. You know the demons wrap themselves around the chakras, attach themselves to the spine and brain stem, but be careful, Saint. You’re smart, but you will have to use instinct more than intellect for this.”
“He’s the first one that isn’t afraid of me… I can smell fear, Cruz. He has none for me whatsoever.”
“Because he is the worst of you, Saint. He knows he has an advantage because he is your weakness. Look, you will need to get him away from her first or he will take her with him when he attacks. If you jump on him while he is still having sex with her, he will just jump in her body instead and you’ll have to murder two hosts instead of one.
Saint rocked back on his heels and cocked his head as his eyes glowed with heat. A bright, bloody red—that’s what they’d look like. Sliding the gun out of his jacket, he jammed it in the back of the fucker’s head. The demon slowed, looking a bit annoyed, perhaps curious, but still kept fucking the woman. Saint grinned…
“Ahhhhh!” Gurgling sounds emitted from the beast within the man as Saint clonked the gun upside his head with all the strength he could muster. The weapon fell to the ground as the beast bucked and pushed against him. Saint wrapped his arm tight around the bastard’s thick neck, forcing his head skyward. With a hard pull, he forced it’s cock out of the woman and pulled him back, flush to his chest. The woman started to shake. Her eyes watered and she opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
“GO! RUN!” Saint shouted at her, but as she struggled to get to her feet, she slipped back down and fell unconscious. “FUUUCK!” With a loud crack, Saint fell to the ground, hitting the back of his skull. It sounded like lightning cracking within his brain. The big man jumped on him, vying for control, while Saint struggled to breathe under the massive weight. The man had to have been almost four hundred pounds, but his speed and strength were otherworldly.
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Saint… It’s the dark prince! It’s Asmodeus! He knows you well. Whatever you do, don’t lose consciousness. Stay awake!
Saint’s teeth clamped down; the pain forced him to bite his own tongue. The damn thing was pressing itself within him, trying to break inside his mind. Asmodeus, the demon of lust, was as determined as he’d ever been. With a shaky arm, his only free limb, he searched the coarse gravel, trying to grab a hold of something, anything, to regain his freedom.
Keep blocking him! He’s trying to possess you, Saint!
The man looked down at him, his eyes completely white, his teeth small and sharp. A horrid odor escaped from between his cracked lips.
“What a fucking amazing prize!” the monster said, sounding like a million monsters crammed within him, all speaking at once. “I’ve got Saint Aknaten, the sex doctor, the pussy rocker, the Demon Child clocker and devil night stalker. How’s it feel to be the prey instead of the predator?!”
“I’m nobody’s prey, not even on my mothafuckin’ deathbed, you stinkin’ ass son of a bitch! If I’m going down, mothafucka, so are you.” Saint used all of his strength to get the words out as he felt his ribs cracking under the tremendous pressure.
Saint! Cruz called out to him. STAY ALERT. You’re fading on me.
“You’re even better than they said you were.” The thing looked him up and down, as if in awe … marveling at the sight. “This is going to be sooo good. I knew you’d find me. You’re good at finding lost souls, demons, anyone you wish… That’s what I wanted. I know all about you.” The thing flicked its tongue at Saint, then licked up the side of his face. Saint winced and gritted his teeth as he felt the stiff, wet muscle glide against his skin. “I can’t wait to drag you down to Hell with me. I’m going to be handsomely rewarded for this … you’re on our Most Wanted list! A Supreme King Angel Child… You’re a slave to God!” He cackled. “You’re just a servant to these stupid civilians and weaklings!
“You have no freedom. You do His bidding, you have no fun—He just uses you! You fight your true nature to be a part of this calling … so sad.” The beast made a mocking sad face. “Tsk, tsk … you still want more pussy, and your wife knows nothing! You could have a billion bitches and it still would never be enough!”
Saint, don’t listen! Don’t listen to him, Saint! Cruz urged, though Cruz’s energy was now sporadic and frantic. He could sense the man was physically on the move.
“With your special powers, Saint, you and I could do sooo much, so many wonderfully awful things!!!” The monster wrapped his hands around Saint’s neck and squeezed, forcing his eyes to flutter and his heart to slow.
SAINT!!!
Saint heard the woman finally get to her feet and stumble away.
Yes… get away… go… go… before he uses you…
A scream rent the air. The woman was inside the store, screaming for help…
God… please, I need your strength. My body is failing me, but I still have my mind … my powers. Help me, God. I have to beat this… I have to…
“GOD CAN’T HELP YOU!” the beast yelled, reading his thoughts. “HE’S LAUGHING AT YOU!!!”
Our Father … Who Art in Heaven…
“SHUT UP! Shut. The fuck. Up!”
Please forgive me for my sins… my trespasses… please forgive me for my lust… please bless me now for following Your instructions and giving myself only to my wife, for she is my earthly strength. She is my heart that beats within me. I have been faithful to her, Lord…
Tears streamed down Saint’s face—tears of joy as he felt Xenia’s warm arms around him.
I want no other woman, God. She is my Queen. Help me … use my energy and Cruz’s combined to rid myself of Asmodeus and protect the domain You gave me to protect…
“Asmodeus…” Saint coughed blood as his eyes blinked, his mind growing cloudy. “Asmodeus! Lucifer is your king; my king is the Supreme Being, the great Creator!” PUSH!!!!
Saint strained against the weight, his hand pressed in an awkward direction against the man’s form. His wrist felt as if it were going to crack, but he kept on, through unbearable pain…
“ASMODEUS!!! I REBUKE YOU IN THE NAME OF THE GREAT CREATOR!” Saint’s insides began to cave, his ribs broken in so many places, he’d lost count.
“STOP SAYING MY NAME! HE DOESN’T HEAR YOU! HE HAS FORSAKEN YOU!” The beast clawed at his jacket, ripping it to shreds. Saint could feel the stinging marks—three deep scratches into his flesh. Turning his head to the left, he saw the terrified expression in the cashier’s eyes as he held a phone in his hand and stared at them in the throes of a deathly battle. The poor boy had gone stark white, speechless.
“Listen to me! Close and lock the store and take the woman to the hospital. Don’t call an ambulance or the police—just GO!” Saint screamed as more blood flooded his mouth and streamed down his chin. After a few moments of hesitation, the boy took off.
“Awww, so sweet … still trying to save lives. It’s too late. I’m going to fuck the boy, too.” The monster smiled down at him before slapping him hard across the face. The sting held a special sort of heat, the kind one could barely describe. His face burned, and he could feel the skin rising from the fresh welts. “Before I kill you, I’m going to play with you … torture you. You looove to fuck. Well, you’re in luck—so do I!” The monster laughed, a harsh, ruthless laugh. “I’m going to slide into your body, Saint, make you my new host for a while. I just can’t resist!”
“NO!” Saint struggled, trying to move, but was pinned down hard against the concrete. He heard the squeal of car tires as a car sped out of the parking lot.
“Oh, yes. We’re going out to fuck tonight, Saint. Just you and me. Maybe even go back to your house right before I’m done, and mess around with your little girl, too. She’s so cute. I’d love to have the gypsy for my very own.” Saint’s lips parted and out poured blood and snow-white smoke. He’d never felt such rage in all of his days in existence, and didn’t believe this sort of hatred was possible. But it was … it definitely was.
Saint, use that rage you feel in your favor. Don’t lose focus. You can’t move, but you can hurt him telepathically! Jagger, Lawrence, and Krishna know what’s going on! We are all linked into you now, through me.
“Wouldn’t that be perfect for your legacy? Destroyed by you becoming a child molester … defiling your very own flesh and blood. How lovely.” The monster’s neck cracked as he began to break down the body he was inside. “And she’s a coveted Angel Child, too… I’ll bring her home to Hell with me as well. What a sweet dessert.”
Saint strained so hard beneath him, but the more he struggled, the faster his energy drained. He was alone with the beast, just as it had planned. Facing lust was not only psychologically tearing him apart—it was leaving scars on his memory, delving deep and turning his past into something sick and depraved.
“That’s right … just give up.” The thing sneered. “I’m going to make you feel things you can never un-feel, see things you can never unsee, and use your handsome, pretty face to fuck up so many lives…
All…
Day…
Long…”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jagger and Cruz sat across from Lawrence in his living room, under the glowing orange lights. Vaporwave music played low in the background. The white candles were lit, and fragrant sage waved and wafted about in the air as they sweated and drained one another, giving all that they possibly could. At this point it wasn’t much, but they brainstormed as much as possible to help Saint through this predicament.
“Oh shit … it’s bad … so bad.” Cruz winced as he got glimpses of the beating Saint was enduring, the pain radiating through his body.
“What do you see, Cruz? I can’t see it.” Jagger turned to him, concern for his brother tearing him apart.
“The demon is now scared because Saint is calling on archangels and he’s praying harder than ever. The demon is half way finished destroying the current h
ost body and is preparing to be as strong as possible when he enters Saint. By draining the current host, he can complete a hostile takeover. At that point, he is going to go on and commit some sexually depraved acts, a fucking spree if you will. I don’t want to tell you what I saw should he succeed.”
“He knew to get Saint away from us—he’d have no help. Fucking Saratoga!” Jagger yelled, his fists balled up in rage. Lawrence folded his hands over his lap, concentrating on sending as much of himself as possible to Saint.
“Guys, we sit here, we pray. We keep telepathically working with him, giving him as much strength as possible. We keep as calm as possible and focus. Remember, do not draw on his energy like we did in the river. Whatever aftereffects he picks up, we could receive as well, just like the first time, even though we’re not there with him physically.”
“Right.” Cruz nodded. “I made sure not to do that this time around. We’ll still pick up bits and pieces of him in some residual way, regardless.”
“Correct, but this way we won’t have the symptoms, I suppose you could call it,” Lawrence clarified. He lit a pipe but before he could get it to his lips, light blue smoke eddied from the sides of his mouth. A flush of angry heat came upon him, so pissed he was about the entire situation but doing the best he could to keep as tranquil as possible. If not for himself, for his friends’ sakes. “This wouldn’t have happened, had he not been lured.”
“Lured?” Jagger questioned.
Lawrence shook his head in disgust. “Yes. The lawyer that persuaded Saint to come to Saratoga is a scarf.” Jagger’s brow arched in confusion.
“A scarf is a slang term for people, civilians basically, who hang around D.C.s. They do favors for Demon Children in order to get monetary, sexual, or materialistic favors in return. They just sit there, waiting for bids so they can be rewarded,” Cruz explained.
“What? How did Saint not know that? He can spot a fraud a million miles away. His senses are so heightened,” Jagger said.
