First Of Many Demons To Face

Priestly had a sense for demons, whereas Mars did not. In fact, whenever he thought that someone was a demon, he turned and ran the other way. Now that he was with Priestly, however, he did not have that luxury. He was terrified of the things, more than anything else. When he had encountered the demon in the basement, he had tried to run, an that cowardice had caused this all.

Perhaps, that was why Mars was now trapped inside of his own mind, nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. The demon pressed inside of his head, filling every part of his mind. He could feel it dig through his memories, his thoughts, his feelings.

"He says he wants you to kill him," the demon spoke with Mars's voice, in a way that sounded entirely nothing like Mars. "He wants you to stab him, right in the fucking heart."

He dig Mars's nails into his chest, until blood stained his white dress shirt.

"You know you cannot exorcise me," said the demon, and Mars watched the way he looked at Priestly, and it made him sick. "You have me trapped in this room, inside this boy's body, and if you exorcise me, I will simply go back inside of him. You can't kill him, either. And you can't open the door to this room, because then, I will also escape. There is no way for you to win, priest. How long have you even known him for, anyhow?

"You must not know about the way he feels," said the demon, and Mars felt his heart drop. The demon was going to tell Priestly everything. He wanted to die. "Ooh, now the boy wants to die, again. Will you kill him? Kill me?"

Priestly smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Get out of him, or I'll make you get out," he said. "I'm afraid I don't have much patience today--I went light on the breakfast. There are things I can do to hurt you without hurting him. Please, just leave the boy alone. You're staining his shirt, he won't like that."

He glanced at his rosary, counting the beads.

"You don't even want him, anyway. He's just a boy, only important to me. I don't even want to kill you, you know--I just want you to go back home."

"That's exactly why I want him!" he shouted, and Mars could feel his body temperature rising. "How can you say you don't want to kill me? Has the boy not suffered enough yet?! Do I need to hurt him, so that you'll feel the very same pain I've felt?"

The demon's nails dug into Mars's chest more, and the blood flowed more freely.

"Do you even know how this boy got his scar?" he asked suddenly, and Mars could feel the demon struggle to regain control. "Do you know anything about him?"

"I don't need to know anything about him," he said nonchalantly. "We're friends, master and pupil--is that so strange? I trust him enough to let him keep any secrets he desires, and that's all there is to it."

He paced around the room, staring at the walls.

"I mean it when I say I don't want to kill you--I'm a priest, after all. I just want you out of here, and away from Earth. Go back to hell where you belong, and you will be spared."

"No!" he shouted angrily. "I'm not leaving this body until you feel how I've felt! This is all your fault!"

He ground his teeth together.

"You can't kill me without killing the boy anyway. You're trapped, just admit it," he snapped.

The demon used Mars's hand to rip open his shirt, tearing the buttons right off. He used Mars's bloody hand to rake it across his stomach, drawing even more blood.

"I'll give him scars he won't ever forget, and he'll always remember that you didn't save him."

"If you touch him one more time, I'll have to get nasty," he sighed. "Are you sure you won't go nicely?"

He unlatched his bag and reached inside.

"This is your last warning. Leave the boy alone."

"I'll disembowel him before you have the chance to do anything," the demon hissed, but Mars knew that he was lying. The demon wanted Priestly to kill him. He could feel it. Just as the demon could feel Mars, Mars could feel him. He had never felt a demon before, he had hardly seen a demon before. This was something entirely different.

He wanted to tell Priestly not to kill the demon, after all, but of course, he could not speak.

"Get out of him, or I'll make you leave," he repeated. "You have five seconds. There are ways to force you out of a vessel, you know."

"You'll have to kill me," the demon replied, digging his fingernails into Mars's stomach.

He pulled out a water bottle.

"Are you so sure?" he asked, taking a sip. He didn't seem particularly affected by the demon's actions.

"Do you even care?!" he shouted angrily. "I'll kill him, even if it means killing myself!"

Mars wasn't sure what Priestly was doing, but he was losing faith every second. His stomach was going to be seriously messed up by the time he got it back.

If.

If he got it back at all.

Nodding, he spat a mouthful of holy water at the demon, tackling it in one swift movement.

"Sorry, Marsy," he murmured before reciting a prayer and tossing the rest of the bottles contents of the demon.

"...Through Christ our Lord, Amen," he chanted, producing a length of cord. He began the prayed again as he tried to bind Mars's--or rather, the demon's--hands: "O God, Who knowest us to be set in the midst of such great perils..."

Mars could feel the demon take deeper roots in his mind, breaking memories, thoughts and feelings as he did so. The roots dug into the deepest confines of his mind, and Mars felt himself begin to curl in on himself. The demon was going to crush his mind before Priestly could exorcise him.

As Mars's mind began to crack, he felt his stomach tear at the same time. Priestly tore his own hands away from his stomach, but they had already caused so much damage.

If his mind survived, would his body? If his body survived, would his mind?

Then, it was over. Forcefully, the demon was being ripped from his mind. Those claws dug into his brain, tearing at anything they could, but once they had been dislodged, there was no way they could regain ground.

His mind was free. Broken, bloodied, much like his body was, but he was free.

"Priestly," he tried to say, but only blood came from his mouth.

Priestly shushed him, placing his rosaries around Mars's neck and a small stone in his hands, whispering more prayers.

He pulled out a first aid kit and opened it, motioning for Mars to remain still.

"...Sancte Michaël, Sancte Gábriel, Sancte Ráphaël, Omnes sancti Angeli et Archángeli, oráte pro nobis..."

Suddenly, he didn't want to die. The entire reason he had gone with Priestly, was to die. At least, that's what he had told himself. He really was just a coward. He had wanted to die, but he was too afraid to die. Far, far too afraid.

He whimpered pitifully, trying to stay still and quiet, but panic gripped him and he wanted to move, just to prove he wouldn't die there. He couldn't die there. He wasn't even 17 yet. He was barely 16. He was just a child. He had so much to do.

He wanted to grow up, to have a wife and children and live happily ever after. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? It had been what he always dreamt of, until very recently. The thoughts that crept into his mind scared him. It had been what his brother always warned him about.

Shamefully, he felt himself begin to cry. How, he wasn't sure, as he could barely feel his body enough to make it move if he had wanted to.

He didn't even know what he wanted to do with his life yet, how could he die?

Priestly pressed a compress over Mars's wounds, trying to stop the blood. After a few minutes, the blood began to slow and he ceased his prayer.

"...I think we're alone now," he said quietly, making the sign of the cross on Mars's forehead. "I'm so sorry, Marsy. We'll patch you up better at the hotel--but right now it's important we get you to the car. Do you understand me? I'll carry you if I have to."

He removed the cord from Mars's wrists, shoving it back into his messenger bag.

"We have to hurry."

"I'm going to die," he whimpered softly, "Priestly, I'm going to die,"

He swallowed down blood and stared at him with wide eyes. Despite his fear, he tried to be brave. If he was going to die, he didn't Priestly to think he was some sort of coward (even though he was).

"I...I can't die yet," he tried to smile, "B-because...I'm a virgin."

"Shhhh," he whispered, picking him up. "You're not going to die, you're not going to die. We'll take you to a hospital if you get worse, okay? Shhhhh..." He kissed Mars on the forehead and gingerly carried him out the stairs and out of the house.

He made his way to the car as quickly as possible, laying Mars down in the backseat.

"Are you gonna be okay? Do you need a drink, are you dizzy? The cuts didn't look too deep, but you lost some blood."

"I'm gonna bleed on your car," he said reluctantly, trying to sit up to no avail. "I don't wanna get your car dirty..."

He stared at Priestly, watching the world shuffle about before him. His mind couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"My head...hurts," he said.

"It's been dirtier," he said, closing the door and slipping into the front seat.

"I'm gonna try to make this a smooth ride, okay? Just hang on, we'll get you cleaned up soon."

"I...I shouldn't...I'm sorry," he said finally, swallowing. "I'm...I shouldn't have come with you, I...I'm just slowing you down."

"Why would you say that?" asked Priestly, adjusting his rear-view mirror as he drove. "I think you're quite useful to have around--I'm the one who invited you, aren't I? I'm just sorry you got hurt this time. You can leave if you really don't feel safe."

He lowered his head, hiding his expression.

"No...I..." he swallowed painfully. He couldn't admit his cowardice. He couldn't admit that this had been the entire reason he had come along. He had wanted to die, just minutes ago.

"...I like you," he said, hoping Priestly wouldn't hear him. "...I don't have anywhere else to go, and I have no one else to be with."

"Then you should stay," he said, shrugging. "I've been there--I understand the feeling. What matters right now if making sure you're okay."

He frowned deeply.

"...I will," he replied quietly. "...I don't feel well."