Suddenly the body of the boy gasped deeply for air and his eyes raged open. He spat murky water out of his mouth that had been lazily cupped under his tongue. As he squirmed upwards from his stomach to his feet and looked shockingly at his surrounding environment. Startled, Laywick slowly stood back up on his feet. He observed the boy’s current expressions and how his weight was shifted then concluded that the person was not currently under the influence of the demon.
“That is odd… why isn’t the demon possessing him?” Laywick thought to himself silently, he had no doubt that the demon was still within the boy, but the question pressed why is the demon letting him rest.
Laywick, who had little interaction with actual people regardless of the amount of time he had spent on this earth stood quietly and awkwardly in from of the boy. Finally when no one decided to speak out Laywick asked, to break the silence, “What is your name?”
“Boal,” he responded quickly in a shaky tone. “I’m not… feeling very well…” Boal, still attempting to grasp the realization that the demon had abused his body, suddenly sat down in a hurry on the wet floor and laid his hands over his more vulnerable wounds all the while shaking from both shock and the wet cold. Boal was in shock. He had never experienced something so horrific as having his thoughts and vision replaced with a demonic being. Previous to the entire series of events that led up to this point Boal didn’t even believe in such creatures as demons and angels. But after all that he had been through recently, his disbeliefs had turned into nightmares.
Laywick walked over to him to attend his cuts and bruises as a gesture of kindness, but as he reached over to help the boy, Boal unintentionally threw Laywick away and screamed in a demonic voice. Laywick backed off slowly and softly and said: “You’re being possessed, by a demon that goes by the name Deathmar.”