Matt was getting frustrated with everything. Every bone in his body ached, every uncovered part of his skin was either bruised or scratched, or both. While the words came out automatically in prayer, he found himself drifting. They were not getting anywhere. Cain was not getting anywhere. When the demons answered his wife, he was quite relieved.
A start! An opening!
Intending to hear more, Matt focused on the exchange not noticing that he had already dropped his prayers in exchange for the tidbits he was hearing.
“I did not fail my Gina!” Emmy answered, defending against the insinuation.
“OH! SHE DIDN’T, SHE SAYS.”
Cain, being the closest to the possessed child, had to cover his ears in fear of rupturing his eardrums.
“But you did. You allowed your child to be defiled! IN YOUR OWN HOME!”
It could not have been clearer that the demons wanted to emphasize the last phrase. The many voices sounded like they were about to go berserk. More debris rose from the ground, this time mainly from the kitchen and pelted them all, except Jean.
“You opened up for him. You slut! Cunny got filled gooooooood right? Did you like him? Did you love it? DID YOU LOVE HIM? I bet you were smiling till the next morning! We bet you were!”
~0~
Cain kept trying to get them back to praying but he was having difficulty getting up. Matt had completely stopped praying and despite having been pelted by flying debris, was listening intently.
“Slut, slut, slut, SLUT! Your child was defiled while you were playing SLUT!”
While mouthing the words, Gina’s body struggled fiercely to get away from the restraints. Emmy stood watching her child, confused.
“You understand priestling? Do you understand? Let me go. Let us go and we will strangle this slut ourselves!”
Cain slowly lifted his gaze and turned it towards the possessed child. His gaze was met by a leering, contorted face.
“Stupid! IDIOT! FOOL!” The enraged demons screamed.
Cain found himself, for the third time, up in the air again. He was barely able to make a sound before his shoulders hit the wall and the rest of his lower body followed. He felt something crack before he fell to the floor. He felt another crack as he hit the floor. His modest training in medicine already told him what was coming next. He tried to look at Gina but aside from his vision being cloudy, everything seemed to be a shade of violet. Breathing hurt, moving hurt.
“Pray.” He muttered under his breath, unsure if anyone could hear him.
~0~
They stood watching him. All eight, wiry figures stood there regarding him and, it seemed, they allowed him to regard them. He fought hard to contain himself. The figures all looked like withered, dying trees. Their skins were cracked and oozed a sickening puss-like substance. The eyes and mouths were upright, and their heads had a matted appearance that looked like a pile of flayed skins.
“And I thought the other one was ugly as fuck!” He said aloud, trying to hid his nervousness.
The figures watched him and did not move. With only a few feet between him and eight monstrosities, he was finding it harder and harder to keep his composure. He dug inside his pocket for his lighter and the pack of cigarettes.
“Fuck!” He yelled, finding out he only had one left. He chucked the empty pack towards the figures and watched it bounce off one. “The fuck you all looking at? Go on! Fight for your kill! I’m only here for the spoils.”
He lit his cigarette without taking his eyes off of his observers. He strained his mind as he produced more anchors and them standing between them.
“Your friends are dying, look!” He pointed back to the house.
Still, the figures won’t move. It creeped him out. He took a long frag off the cigarette and blew smoke in their direction. After not getting a response again. He sent one anchor towards each of the figures and began poking them.
It went on for some time. Suddenly, their thin and long arms with their equally thin and long fingers shot out and grabbed ahold of his anchors. He brought the anchors back and found that it would not budge no matter how he made them squirm. He dismissed them and sent another batch. The same thing happened.
“Oww! Shit! Whatcha do that for?” He asked in feigned indignation as he felt his anchors being used to hurt him.
He started to sweat. He dismissed the eight anchors and conjured others to replace them right into the space between them, to alert him of any attempts. This was the third time he was hurt like that. Just like the other demon the creatures knew too. He wondered how.
Could it be? Was it them that night?
Without letting his guard down, he approached the creatures and they, in turn, stepped forward towards him. When they were within close distance, the creatures put their eerie hands up and touched the wall of black, vinelike anchors. He felt the touches.
Help.
He heard it clearly this time too.
~0~
Matt was having a hard time keeping. They have been thrown around and pelted – all while taking the mockery of the demons inside his precious little daughter. By the looks of it, his wife was having a hard time fighting the pain and the onslaught of lies.
“You little slut! Your whore body loved every whoring moment, didn’t you? You woke with a smile on your slutty little face, didn’t you?” The demons laughed and shrieked. “Tell me, no tell us, WHORE! Where, oh, where did you find your husband the next morning?”
“Let my child go!” Emmy screamed, moving Jean to her back.
“To YOU? YOU? You let your child be defiled in your own home just so you can spread your legs for him. FOR HIM!”
“Shut your mouth demons!” Matt shouted. “Give us our daughter back!”
“Do not… listen to it. Do… not engage…” Cain muttered, struggling to get up.
His demands to let his daughter go was met with boisterous laughter from the demons with their many voices. Matt was slowly losing his fear, in its place was a budding anger.
“No, no, no!” The demons spoke, in Gina’s scared voice. “Don’t hurt me again daddy? Please daddy. It hurts daddy!”
Maniacal laughter ensued. Had the body not been restrained, it would have bowled over with laughter. Matt was a picture of confusion. He did not like how the voices said the word daddy. Emmy repeated her appeal. The demons howled even more.
“It wasn’t your Matt. It wasn’t your Matt. You fell asleep with a smile on your face, but it wasn’t your Matt!” The demons teased in a singsong voice. “It wasn’t your wife. It wasn’t your wife. You fell asleep with a smile on your face, but it wasn’t your wife. It wasn’t your wife. DADDY!”
Each time the demon mocked Emmy or Matt, the other looked at their spouse with a confused look bordering on accusatory. Now they looked at each other, the dots connecting one by one. Slowly, they started to piece their own parts, their recollections.
The demons continued mocking and taunting and laughing. He clearly remembered having some beers, and then some more before going up to make love to his wife. Then, he went out of the room and came back down. He was sure that’s what happened. He was…
Matt’s eyes widened to the size of plates as he turned cold. He raised his gaze up to his possessed child and found the demons waiting for him to look their way. He watched his daughter’s face with the black eyes stare at him, nodding, smiling.
“DADDY!”
“Don’t listen… to it.” Cain pleaded.
No. It can’t be. It… It…