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Theodore Keating, I whisper softly into his mind.I am here for you.

There is no response. His entire being ought to flood with terror when I make my presence inside his body known.

I try again.Theodore John Keating. I hold your very essence in my hands.You will obey the commands of Hell!

Again, nothing. My superiors warned me that I may have to escalate if there is no initial response from the host. I push myself through his body until I can see through his human eyes. He is watching a box with bright, moving images. A television. I reach out with one of my shadows, sliding along the wall of the room, allowing the current of electricity to run through my limbs, then I cut it off. The screen goes dark.

He groans, “What the fuck?” However, instead of attempting to repair the television, he merely sits there and closes his eyes, leaning his head back. He ought to befeeling. Frustration, despair, anger, sadness. But still, only emptiness. Something is very wrong with this human, but I am on my own.

I must complete my mission, or be recalled to the Seventh Tower in disgrace. Escalating my tactics again, I pull the shadows in from the edges of the room and push myself into his chest, clutching at the steadily-beating heart I find there. He gasps and sits up, the darkness closing around him.

“Fuck, am I dying?” he wonders out loud.

You are not dying,I reply.You are mine now, Theodore Keating, and you will obey me.

He falters for a moment, opening and closing his mouth. “Is there…a voice in my head? Is that real? Or is this a prank?” He looks down at the small, bright box sitting beside him. A cellular phone. Humans use them to communicate over long distances, I believe. I reach out and touch the electrical current running through it, then extend my reach to the entire living space, causing the lights to flicker and the cellular phone to flash. He is on his feet in an instant.

Now do you feel my presence?

“This better be a fucking prank. Mak? Is that you? Zayd? Come on, guys!”

This is no laughing matter,I say, lifting my voice so it echoes inside his mind.

“What…what is going on?” His voice trembles, and the sound feeds me, feeds my darkness so that it oozes out onto the floor at his feet. I race across the ground and finally reveal myself, in a form of shadows and smoke and blazing eyes, towering above him. He stumbles away, falling onto the seat behind him, so I move closer and pull a physical voice from inside my shadows.

“I am Annoth’zagoz of the Seventh Tower, and I have claimed you, body and soul, Theodore Keating! You are mine to command, and through you, I shall rain terror and despair down upon humanity!” Another pause as he takes in my shadows and burning eyes, his breath coming in short bursts.

“W-what are you?” he finally whispers. “I don’t understand…I have to be hallucinating…”

“I am a Demon of the Seventh Tower, sent from the depths of Hell to–”

“A demon?” His face twists with confusion. “Like…a demon demon? Are you… possessing me?”

“I have claimed you, and you shall obey my commands!”

He swallows. “How do I know you aren’t just a hallucination?”

“Can you not see me with your own eyes?” I hover closer, engulfing the light around him with my shadows. His eyes go wide and his skin whitens, but he does not move.

“Well, yeah,” he mutters, “but visual and auditory hallucinations can happen when someone is severely depressed. I didn’t think it was that bad, but maybe–”

“I am not a hallucination!” I roar, causing the ceiling to shake. He looks only slightly concerned, as if my presence is merely an annoyance or an inconvenience.

“But…you aren’t controlling me or anything.” He lifts his hands in front of him and turns them of his own free will. “I thought when a demon possessed someone… they could control your body. If you’re real, shouldn’t you be able to like… make my head spin around or something?”

“I beg your pardon?” I pull the shadows back into myself and sink lower. His eyes dart around the room, as if he is looking for a weapon to hold me off.

“Isn’t that what demons do when they possess someone?” he asks. “Make them act all crazy and do weird things with their bodies? If you can’t actually control my body, then how am I supposed to believe you’re a real demon and not a hallucination?”

I do not understand what is happening. This was not part of my training. Why is he asking me these questions? Why is he behaving as though I am not a threat to his very existence?

“I will break you first, and then your body shall obey me,” I hiss, moving even closer. His eyes, the same shade of pale blue as the sky outside the window, grow even wider as I bare my shadowy fangs.

“So you have to get me to ‘break’ first, and then you’ll be able to make my head spin around?”

“Why do you hold such a fixation on the head spinning?” I pull back, wondering if there was a piece of training I might have missed.

“It’s…it’s from an old movie,” Theodore laughs in a rather weak voice. “The Exorcist. My mom wouldn’t let me watch it when I was a kid, but I snuck a VHS tape home from my friend’s house and watched it while my parents were asleep. Gave me nightmares for weeks.”