“f*****g sons of bitches.”
What the…
What theShe was crying. Not loudly, but he was aware of her sniffling and wiping the tears from her eyes as they blurred her vision. In this psychic state, he could not manipulate her. Not her body nor her thoughts. Neither could he speak to her, either mentally or some other way. She was a vehicle and he the passenger. What she saw, he saw. What she heard, he heard. Any communication she had with someone, even if she was simply speaking aloud to herself, he registered. He could even taste what she tasted, smell what she smelled, and feel what she touched. The whole nine yards. It was spooky and sometimes downright creepy at times, and it had taken him a while to grow accustomed to it. Thanks to the guys, this possession so far was much like what he’d
