The Prompt:
This wasn’t the first time I had been trapped inside a _ , but it was the first time I had to escape in order to save a life. Here’s what happened.

Scope: 500 words

This wasn’t the first time I had been trapped inside a human, but it was the first time I had to escape i order to save a life. Here’s what happened.

Normally it only happens once in a decade these days. With technology and science taking over peoples beliefs there are not many who still practise the art of summoning. Most of the books describing how to summon a demon have been destroyed by now, and those that survived have been distorted so much it’s only the lucky ones that manage to get the rituals exactly right.

And here I was. Trapped inside of this young teenager who along with his friends somehow managed to get hold of a book and complete a ritual. They were laughing, drinking and smoking pot.   I must admit the taste of human activities were intoxicating. They always are – until we have worn the body down so much that we either get exorcised or the human goes insane and commits suicide.

Time is of no essence so I prepared myself for the ride. Teenagers are always more resilient than we give them credit for. Sure they are fragile but at the same time their minds are so flexible that they are able to accommodate us for longer time.

This teenager, Harry, was almost ordinary. He lived with his father and little brother, went to school, hung out with friends if not for the fact that his father beat him every night. His pain was excruciating and – I must admit – heroic.

Harrys father was plain evil. He loved to see his son in pain, loved to see the fear in his eyes. I, however, also felt the hatred that Harry kept in his heart for his father and the love for his brother.

I came to admire Harry. He did what he could to save his little brother, but his body was slowly withering away from all the torture. He knew it instinctively as well that if he died, his little brother would be next.

Trapped inside Harry I began to chink away at his mental armour. I planted ideas in his mind that I could exploit. I wanted to help. It took awhile but finally Harry had pieced together the clues I had left for the ritual I needed him to perform.

One dark night he was alone with the candles and the chalk. He chanted the words I had whispered to him in his sleep. I could feel the restraints loosen, feel myself grow inside him like a parasite waiting to get loose.

And loose I got.

Demon possession is an ugly thing – even more when we have a purpose. However, the look of fear in Harrys father’s eyes was worth it. It was painless, at least for Harry.

His little brother got to live. I’m watching over him. Awaiting him to summon me, as I see him rifle through Harrys books and papers. And I’m ready.

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