Lost To The Devil

Chapter 5: inside of me

I finally snapped; the stereo roared to life again, shaking the walls, then the TV burst on downstairs, voices overlapping, distorted and loud.

“Stop it!” I screamed. For a second it was silent, then the kitchen exploded into chaos, drawers slammed open and crashed to the floor, forks and knives clattered violently, spilling across the floor.

I was so tired of cleaning the mess up. I got on my hands and knees, my hands trembling as I started picking up the cutlery, each piece cold against my skin. “I hate you,” I muttered under my breath, “I wish you’d just go away…” The words barely left my lips when the next thing I knew, I felt the backhand of a slap strong enough to send me flying to the other side of the room, the impact knocking the breath from me.

I barely had time to get up again before I felt myself being kicked back down by a powerful force. I had never felt anything with such strength before as I was kicked and punched repeatedly in the stomach and along my legs; my body jerked from the impact of each hit.

It felt like a thousand people attacking me, as there was no pause between one punch or kick to the next, no pause, just endless force crashing into me from every direction.

The attack finally stopped; the silence that followed rang louder than the noise. I lay there, barely able to move, every breath shallow and sharp with pain. Shaking, I forced myself up to my feet, unsteady, and froze in terror. A flash of silver, a carving knife shot past my head, so close I felt the air split beside my ear. It slammed into the cupboard behind with a sickening thunk noise, the blade buried deep in the wood.

My heart pounded so painfully it hurt.

I took it as a clear warning and ran out of the room crying and up to my bed, where I stayed for the rest of the day.

When I woke, it was dark. The clock read ten. My body screamed in protest as I sat up; every movement sent pain rippling through me, deep and heavy, like my bones themselves had been bruised. I dragged myself slowly to my mirror and lifted my shirt; my breath caught.

Bruises bloomed across my body in sickening colours, black, deep purples, green, and yellows. Not a single part of my skin was left untouched; the same was true for my legs too.

It looked like I’d been beaten by something not human.

All the muscles in my body had been stretched and snapped, and with every movement came pain; it even hurt to breathe.

Two nights later I dreamt of the demon again; he was certainly deceptively beautiful, as I had read.

We were in the forest again, but it was darker this time. The trees loomed closer, their branches twisted tighter, blocking out more light. Shadows clung to the ground like something alive.

“My sweet Grace,” he whispered, stepping toward me, his voice soft, warm, like nothing had happened. “I have missed you so much.” Before I could move, he wrapped me in his embrace. His touch was cold beneath the softness. Wrong somehow.

“But you hurt me.” I whispered into his chest.

He tilted his head slightly, his expression softening into something that looked like sadness.

“I am so sorry, my sweet,” he murmured. “But I only did it out of love.” His hand lifted, brushing gently along my cheek. “You hurt me when you said you hated me…when you wished me gone.”

His voice lowered, almost soothing. “You needed reminding, Grace.” My chest tightened. “That I love you.” His fingers traced lightly down my arm. “I will never leave you.” Something in his tone made my stomach twist with fear.

“without pain…” he whispered, leaning closer, “how would we understand love?” He spoke to me as though I were a five-year old child having a tantrum.

The problem with these dreams was that it was so easy to believe him, to agree with him, and, worse, to forgive him, after all, he was so incredibly beautiful.

The words slipped into me, soft, convincing, wrong, and yet somehow, I believed him. I found myself kissing him until I felt him so tight against me it felt hard to breathe. Before I could pull away, I felt him stick to me, and then he was inside me, and I woke up gasping for air.

The room spun slightly, sunlight poured through the curtains, bright and warm. I could hear the birds singing, and for a moment I felt good, light.

I got dressed quickly, pulling on a black tank top and cream shorts, trying to hold onto the normal and good feeling.

It didn’t last. After breakfast my mood soon changed when Mum dropped a bombshell. “Grace, honey,” she said, her voice unusually bright. “I’ve got news. My project for a house in America has won the hearts of a rich couple who are moving into the house,” she smiled. “I'm going to have to travel there, but I will only be gone for three days.”

Three days, the words echoed in my head. I could see how pleased she was. I didn't want her to go; I didn't want to be alone but I was alone most of the time anyway, so I forced a smile. “That’s amazing, Mum.” But inside, cold dread spread through me.

I was strolling through the town; it was crowded, noisy, and felt safe. I saw a lady doing palm readings for a fiver at her own setup table inside the mall. I gathered up courage and went over to her as the last people left.

“Hello, take a seat.” She smiled.

I sat down nervously and handed her the money.

Her fingers closed around my hand. She went still, her expression changed, and the smile faded. I don't know what she saw, but the reading took longer than it had taken her with the last people. Something felt wrong.

when she finally looked up, her face was drained of colour, she was no longer smiling. In fact, she looked at me with terror.

“What's wrong?” I stuttered.

“My dear…” she said quietly. “I'm not supposed to say anything negative during a reading.” Her eyes flicked around nervously. “But I fear I will do more harm than good if I don't tell you now.” I nodded, staring at her with wide eyes, my heart racing.

“There is something around you,” she whispered. “You have such a dark entity surrounding you, so dark it can only be demonic.”

The word hit me like ice water. I fear it may be close, if not already, to possessing you. I can't even see your aura.”

I tried to control my breathing as I took it all in. “Do you mean…” I swallowed. “Belial?”

I mean, I know the place was haunted and that he spoke only to me, but I had no idea he was trying to take my body, I thought that was just for movies, and the thought terrified me.

I knew it myself deep down, but that didn't mean I wanted to believe it. As soon as I said his name, her whole face turned pale, her eyes widened in pure terror. She yanked her hand away from mine.

She stood up abruptly, knocking her chair back. Before I I knew it, she was folding up her stuff. “I’m done for the day,” she muttered. “I’m so sorry.” Then she fled, leaving me standing there terrified and in no way ready to go back home.

I started heading for our local church, my head still swimming with everything she had said, and when I entered, I collapsed onto the pew bench in exhaustion.

I intended to pray, but five minutes being in there, I was up and running back out and threw up in a bush.

As soon as I was far enough away from the church, the nausea disappeared, and that scared me because I knew he didn’t want me there, and after what the lady had said, I worried he was already halfway inside of me.

As soon as I got home, I slammed the door shut behind me.

I found myself flung against the front door, pain exploding through my spine. A sharp c.rack struck my face, then again. And again.

For just a split second I thought it was Mum angry at me for the cups and glasses that now kept disappearing and reappearing in odd places like the bathtub. But it was too powerful to be human; it was the demon again, and he was even angrier than before.

I was punched and kicked everywhere except for my face; this attack felt more precise and controlled. Punches slammed into my ribs, my stomach, my back. I felt a searing pain tear through my arm. Something had bitten me. Hard. My skin burned where teeth had broken through.

I screamed at the top of my lungs in pain, but it didn’t matter; this demon was clever; he made sure no one would hear me. The stereo roared to life, drowning everything out.

Somewhere through the pain I heard him, calm and cold.

“You will not leave me.”