Page 15 of Possess Us

A rollercoaster zooms down a track before rising up and doing an amazing loop. The rattle of tracks accompanies countless screams and whoops.

A hand slides in mine. I look to see it’s Lust. He looks ahead.

I twitch when Pain takes my other hand. He’s watching me and gives my hand a firm squeeze.

A painful one, which reminds me of the way he crushed my hand only an hour or so ago.

I know he could do it again so easily. That he would probably love nothing more than to do it again.

To make me scream in pain as everyone else around us gets their thrills from rollercoasters and cheap scares.

My bones grind together, but I don’t cry out. I let him take his pain. Let him release a gentle moan as he feels it.

‘You have had your fill,’ Lust reminds him. ‘Let her be. For now, at least.’

His grip eases, and they walk on, taking me with them. A fog bank seems to follow us from behind, drifting past our feet and surging forward like a determined tide. Music drifts into the air, playing from old speakers on high posts.

A joyful tune meant to be playful, but slow and out of tune, so instead it’s creepy as fuck. A waltz for the damned swirling through the now fog-filled air welcomes us here. A warped carnival tune like a broken music box will be the soundtrack to more death. More destruction.

And will bring me one step closer to my revenge and freedom.

‘I’ve never been to a carnival before,’ I tell them. ‘Never been on a ride. Eaten candy floss. Played the games.’

‘We know,’ Lust replies, taking a candy floss stick from a pretty young woman who goes crimson as he smiles sweetly at her. She hands it over, too stunned by his beauty and effect on her.

He then hands it to me, his smile wider.

‘Thank you.’ I take a bite. It’s so sweet as it melts on my tongue. My eyes widen, and I take another bite, the sugar rush already hitting hard and fast.

When my candyfloss is gone, Pain takes a toffee apple from a man about to enjoy his first bite. The man doubles over, clutching his chest, the apple forgotten. Pain hands me the apple.

He watches me take a bite and seems content with my reaction.

It’s fucking divine!

A rollercoaster shoots overhead, the wheels on the metal rack rattling.

Legs dangle and feet kick out as they pass over us, whooping and wailing.

I don’t think rides are on the agenda this evening.

My demons don’t even look up, utterly unbothered by the festivities.

They are determined to reach wherever they are taking me.

I jump when a man dressed as the creepiest clown I have ever seen walks past us on stilts. He lets out a deranged giggle as he waves a bloody hammer over his head, swaying on his pin-striped, elongated legs. His bright red hair matches his red nose. But his makeup is streaked and smudged.

Another man skates past us at speed before making a U-turn and falling to his knees, skidding to a stop at my feet. He wields a chainsaw and is covered in fake blood. His chest is bare, muscled and oiled to make him look sweaty.

He pulls out a knife and runs his tongue up the blade whilst looking me dead in the eye.

Oh my…

I let out a girlish giggle, thoroughly enjoying the view and attention.

Pain steps between us and looks down at him, blocking my fantastic view of the kneeling man.

‘If you want to keep your eyes,’ Pain growls. ‘I suggest you don’t look at her. Or I will pluck them out and make you eat them.’ He takes a menacing step towards him.

The performer looks up at Pain as if ready to argue back. But quickly decides not to when he meets his gaze. I know he can feel the same thing I do. That aura of inhumanity. The aftertaste of death. The smell of damnation. All from a single look.

Both of them have that effect on me, too. The ability to make the air around them unnatural.

The performer gets to his feet and skates backwards, unable to look away until he knows he can get the hell away as quickly as possible. Then he fades into the crowd, lost to the sea of strangers all dressed up, drinking, eating and plotting where to go next.

Pain takes my hand once more and leads me on, pulling me as he speeds up.

I think I pissed off the Demon Prince of Pain. Not good.

We pass the Ferris wheel, a red and white circus tent with a giant plastic clown face at its entrance. Its mouth opens wide, acting as the entrance.

Carved pumpkins sit in large groups, their candles inside flickering away, making ghostly eyes follow us.

We walk in silence. I remain pinned between the two who seem to know precisely where they are going.

I realise that we are not the only ones walking with purpose in this direction.

Groups of teens skip and laugh past us, all dressed in costumes.

Some sexy. Some grotesque. Some are barely in more than their underwear.

I can’t really talk. My skin-tight nurses' dress is torn, stained with blood and cum, and minus many a button. I’m pretty sure my ass cheeks are visible.

My breath hangs thick in the air, but I can’t feel the cold.

I should. I know I should. Either adrenaline has banished such an unnecessary thing as to feel the cold, or my descent into a Hell bound soul has already begun.

I am designed for the fires of Hell. My exposed backside in the October night air is hardly an issue.

When we pass the house of mirrors, I see what everyone is so excited about and why so many are rushing in this direction.

The star of the Halloween carnival.

A looming black building three stories high. A grand and gothic mansion with a warped and rustic sign atop a great arched doorway.

This is clearly the carnival’s crown jewel.

A sprawling house of horrors. Its towers are all crooked and made to look as though years of neglect have ravaged it.

Strings of light flicker ominously around the boarded-up windows.

Beyond the thick boards of wood, a dim glow seeps outwards, hinting that there is still life inside these dead walls and forgotten locks.

It looks less like a hospital and more like a trap. Not to lure people in, but to keep those already inside from ever setting foot beyond its grasp again.

Everyone skips joyfully towards the attraction. But they stop at its gates, watching the house as though it is something to be conquered. To be faced and defeated.

I look at them both in turn, each staring up at it. At the stone steps. The heavy doors are wide open.

It’s not fake, I realise. But it's a real building. One of actual stone, wood, brick, and metal bars.

‘What is that?’ I ask. ‘It’s not a simple attraction.’

‘This is Shadow Sanatorium. Or it was a hundred and fifty years ago.’ Lust looks down at me with pure boyish excitement.

‘It was a mental hospital for the criminally insane. Until the inmates escaped one night. The hospital went into lockdown. All the doors and windows were sealed, trapping the staff and patients inside. When the police opened the doors the next day, all the staff were dead and only three inmates were left alive. The Wade family purchased it a decade later and tried to make it into a hotel. But they gave up after less than a year.’

‘Why?’

He looks down at me.

‘Because the mechanism which puts the mansion into lockdown kept triggering. And every time it did, those stuck inside would die.’

He bounces on the balls of his feet as he looks up at the house.

‘But it’s a ride now, right?’ I ask. 'Just a ride?'

‘It was purchased by the Wade brothers ten years ago. They purchased the land too and made this theme park bullshit.’ Pain grunts as though bored by the entire conversation. He nods to the house. ‘You need to go in there.’

‘Why?’

He looks down at me. The black and white face paint smudged and streaked. Blood dried over his cheeks, neck and brow.

‘Because, Little Human Sacrifice, if you don’t, I will make you scream in a way that only I will enjoy.’ He sweeps my matted hair over my shoulder before trailing his fingers gently down my neck. His fingers encase my throat, and he gives a light squeeze. ‘Go inside and do as you have sworn to do.’

He leans in and places a chaste kiss on my lips. I taste the remnants of his cigarette. His lips are cold, and as I let out a breath, I realise that his exhalations don’t create the same fog mine do.

Is the body he inhabits now dead? Is that why he is cold, and I can’t see his breath? His chest rises and falls slowly, calmly breathing as he looks down at me. His dark hair falls over his equally dark eyes. He pulls me closer by my throat.

‘Will you do this for us, Sweet Little Sacrifice?’ he asks, his words a soft caress. An erotic enticement. ‘Or do I have to make you?’

I find myself nodding, utterly compelled by the Demon Lord of Pain. Not through fear, but a dark and depraved need to please him. To make him proud.

‘That’s a good girl. Now kiss me.’

Still gripping my throat, he makes me take a step closer before claiming my mouth.

His tongue glides into my open mouth, and his cold breath mixes with mine.

Our embrace softens before deepening again.

My heart races so hard I wonder if he can feel it as his chest meets mine.

He needs to lean down as my head tilts back.

As I release a soft moan, a growl rumbles from his chest as though the demon inside is relishing in this as much as I am.

Two hands rest on my hip. Lust presses himself into my back, his erection digging into me as his mouth works my neck.

I’m aching for their touch. The heat between my legs builds quickly.

A desperate and ravenous need to feel them fill me.

Touch my pussy. Fuck me hard. Right here. Right now!

Pain snatches my chin and guides my face to the side, where Lust claims my mouth.

His tongue runs against mine. His kiss is deep and unrelenting as he presses himself against my back, pinning me between the two of them.

Pain then snatches my mouth back for himself, kissing me hard.

His teeth clamp down on my lip. The metallic taste of blood seeps into my mouth as he pulls my lip in and sucks.

His eyes are open, watching me closely as he swallows my blood.

The world around us could be a million miles away. The crowd continue to pass and I know they are looking. I hear their mutterings. Their disapproval of the blood-soaked nurse pinned between two hot as fuck guys being shared like a filthy whore.

Not my words. But someone's.

And I don’t give a fuck.

‘I can smell your arousal,’ Lust whispers in my ear as Pain ravages my mouth. ‘Is your beautiful little cunt wet? Is it desperate? Let me check.’

His hand slides down, past my ass and between my thighs. The tips of his fingers glide up, move my underwear aside, and three fingers ease into me. His hands are cold, and I feel myself clench around him.

‘Oh yes,’ he whispers, burying his face into my neck. ‘Soaking wet. Still warm from when I filled you with my cum. Spread your legs a little more.’

I do, giving him more room. Onlookers glance at us and whisper or shake their heads.

Some look on with intrigue. Their eyes take in every aspect of our kiss.

Of Pain’s hand around my throat. His mouth desperately claiming mine.

Of Lust kissing, sucking and nipping at my neck.

The way his hand moves between my legs. Their eyes are hooded.

Their lips parted. Their movements are slow as they pass.

They want to stay. They want to watch. They want to play too.

When Lust pulls his fingers from my pussy, Pain pulls back from our kiss and holds Lust’s hand in front of my mouth.

‘Clean them.’

I take his fingers into my mouth, licking and sucking them clean.

Fuck I want them. I need them.

‘Now go. Make us proud to call you ours.’ Pain steps back, clearing the path to the haunted house.

I stand straighter, determined, and walk towards the former insane asylum.

My heels clack against the stone steps. The doors are open, allowing anyone and everyone inside.

I peer up at the solid steel doors towering above me.

Gargoyles peer down, all looking deranged.

Fangs protrude from open mouths. Beady eyes glare at me.

Huge claws grip the edges of the building, and sharp bat wings are poised to take flight.

When I look back, Pain and Lust are both standing there. Side by side. Hands in pockets. Backs straight.

Lust’s loose blonde curls blow gently in the wind before he pulls down his white mask, covering his face from view.

Pain is unreadable. A hauntingly beautiful skeleton with soulless eyes looking straight through me and into my soul.

I blow a kiss to my demons, spin on my heel, and stride inside.

Demon number three.

Here I come.