Page 61 of Possessed By Shadows

“Yes. Like the yoga nidra stuff. We use it to help us sleep.”

“Good. Close your eyes, and follow my words.” She began softly, not with my fingers or toes as was common, but with my core. “Put your hands on your stomach, feel the heat pooling there, filling you with warmth. Your hands resting, fists unclenched, as your muscles relax.”

I followed the words, focusing on the sensation, releasing tension bit by bit, muscle by muscle until I felt almost boneless in the chair, barely upright, but able to breathe easily again. Letting go of the anger seemed to wash away the oppressive feeling of the room.

“It’s feeding on what you give it. Release the anger and pain, and it will have to go.”

That made sense. The dark emotions were easy to grow. A glimpse at a memory and it could rise again. For a while it was like dancing away. My squirrel brain would catch something, but find the negative, and it would take me a few seconds of floundering to pull away. I tried to give strength to thoughts not so dark, like of holding Micah, or even the days spent crafting. Why did the positive things seem so weak?

It’s all in what we feed. Had I not been feeding the positive? I would have to work on that.

“Do you see the cat?” she asked.

I blinked, vision still blotchy, but found Precious across the room near the sewing table. Distorted, black-eyed, and demonic. It wasn’t in her nature, and I hadn’t brought her here to suffer. “I’m sorry, Precious…” I muttered.

“Give her warmth. Find a peaceful memory. Doesn’t even have to be happy. Only one in which you are not conflicted.”

That was an odd focus, thinking not about positive or negative, but neutral. Unconflicted. I thought about sitting down to breakfast with Micah. Him reaching out to hold my hand as we ate. Quiet mornings, co-existing. Like stocking shelves in the shop. It was something I did. Not something to be disliked or even enjoyed. There was always a bit of discovery there. What was new? What had sold? What drew people? Or even what it felt like when something I’d put on display was chosen. Small things. Not weighed down with emotion.

The distorted mass that was Precious shrank down to cat size. She looked my way, her eyes blue now, and lifted a paw to lick it. If I thought hard enough, I could remember stroking Jet’s fur and wondered if Precious’s would have been softer. She did that cat stretch thing, front paws out and jumped down off the sewing table. Never landed, as she vanished before she touched the floor. The room was bright again, slugs gone, and I felt like I’d been thawed from the inside out.

Dion crouched beside me, only one hand on my arm now, her gaze thoughtful. I felt as though I needed a nap. Relaxed, but overworked, like I’d run a marathon.

“What happened?” I asked. We were alone in the loft. I didn’t even see Jet. Was he upstairs? And where was Micah? Holy fuck had I come unraveled or what? “I’ve never had that happen before.”

“No?” She asked, her smile slight. “Never?”

“Not like that. I mean, when I served, we sort of turn off…” It wasn’t something I wanted to explain. I had only begun to talk about some of the worst of it in therapy. But telling regular people what I’d done, even if it had been sanctioned under an umbrella of “war” did not make it hurt less.

Dion nodded. Her bright colored headwrap giving me something to focus on. It was pretty, but not an actual image or shape I could define, more a wash of colors, a little like the alcohol inks Micah had begun to play with recently.

“The dark thing was real?” I clarified.

“Energy has life, be it good or bad. You create what you feed.”

“I’ve been feeding anger?”

“You’ve not been angry with your brother? Your father? And now Micah?” She gave me a thoughtful look that told me she saw right through me. “You’re not angry with yourself? For being what was asked of you, or for never being enough?”

I flinched. “How do I keep from feeding it?” I looked around. “Where’s Micah?”

“He’s outside.”

“I scared him,” I said.

“You did.”

“I became a monster?”

“You drew the darkness inward. I think that is why you find yourself so easily taken and used.”

“Fuck.”

“It is something we can work on.”

“Like me not being possessed? Or me not drawing demons or some shit to us?” I asked.

“Both.”