Posession

Deadrick tried to struggle against the invisible grip of the possessed Kenn, but it was futile. He was lucky in one way, whatever it was had left him able to breathe… just. But he knew with just a flick of his wrist, whatever was inside Kenn could easily close his windpipe.

“Don’t try to struggle,” The beastly voice came from Kenn, “Struggling will force me to kill you- and I’m having far too much fun for that,”

Deadrick’s eyes would have gone wide, if his eyelids were under his control. He was completely and utterly bound.

“I’ve been watching for a while now, the exploits of you and your fellows. You are incredibly powerful,” Now the demon was complementing him. Deadrick struggled to make a sentence, “What was that?”

The demon seemed to loosen his hold on Deadrick’s mouth.

“What… are… you?” Deadrick gasped.

The demon laughed.

“I told you, Inquisitor,” The creature said the word mockingly, “My name is Juhra,”

Deadrick had heard the creature before, but he had not wanted to accept it. Juhra was real, and it seemed it could invade his life at any point it felt like.

“You have heard of me, I presume,” Juhra continued, “Either from those Syndicate fools- or those blasted Elves who think they are safe behind their wall of enchanted trees. They will fall, just as everything else shall. You know me, Deadrick,”

Deadrick felt his mouth close again.

“Just as I know you,” The words echoed around the house, “I know what you are- why you are this way,”

Deadrick wanted to shake his head in defiance. How did this creature know what he was? Even he didn’t know that.

“I have a proposition in mind,” Such a business like word sounded incredibly sinister coming from Juhra, “A proposition which will benefit us both,”

There was no way in hell that Deadrick would consider anything the demon would say. Absolutely no way.

“I am between realms, Deadrick. Trapped by that damned Syndicate. I am bleeding into this world from other planes. I need a vessel. I can give you want you want- Deadrick. Death. To free you from the world in which you’ve been in for so long,” Juhra spoke seductively, his words overriding Deadrick’s deep set morals and feelings, “I can benefit us both, if you give me your word,”

Deadrick had let the words seep into his brain. How did Juhra know about him… what he was? What Juhra had said was in his mind, echoing and bouncing around. He had wanted what the demon was proposing for so long. He wanted to die. He had lived so long and done so much, he wanted it to be done… so he could walk into the afterlife and feel the warm embrace of…

No.

If he gave Juhra his body, then Kandrakah would be condemned to darkness forever… a malevolent demon in a body that would never age.

Deadrick had made his decision. He summed up every ounce of strength in his body, and forced one word into reality.

“Never,”

Juhra’s eyes went wide, and then relaxed.

 “It was never a choice. If you won’t willingly give me your body, then I shall kill you and take you from the afterlife,” Juhra spoke coldly.

Deadrick almost laughed. If he died he would enter the Higher Realms, no demon was allowed entry-

The realisation dawned upon Deadrick the second he felt his hand move unwillingly towards his belt. Juhra wasn’t going to kill him. Juhra was going to make him kill himself- an act that was against the Writings, the laws that governed the afterlife.

‘One who takes his life with willing intent will never be deemed fit for the Higher Realms and will be sent to the Underlands…’

Where demons roam, and Juhra could take his body.

Deadrick tried to stop his hand, but it was no use. He felt it snake beneath his coat, and wrap itself around the hilt of his blade. He tried to yell, he even tried convulsing his body to try and break Juhra’s hold, but he couldn’t.

Then he thought of Nerui. Maybe her and the others would find a way to defeat Juhra. As he felt the blade slide from it’s sheath, he stopped struggling. He faced Juhra, refusing to show any emotion.

The demon laughed as the blade came level with his neck. A horrific, evil laugh that sent a feeling through Deadrick. A feeling he hadn’t felt for so many years.

Fear.

The blade glinted in the light of the candle, and launched towards his neck.

Then, the chilling laugh became a gurgle, as something silver penetrated the front of Kenn’s neck.

The blade stopped, and Deadrick fell to the floor, followed by Kenn’s body, now free of Juhra, but with a long, serrated throwing knife buried deep in the back of his neck.

Deadrick looked up at the door.

“Just in the nick of time, eh?” Nerui chuckled nervously.           

 

 

The End

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