Possessed
by Elizabeth Averay
Possessed
The hunger gnaws at me. It is a constant ache and burn in my throat and gut. Nothing quells it, nothing dulls it. I dream of being sated but I can’t. There is no way out. I am a prisoner in more ways than one. Locked in a cell with soldiers bringing me rancid, foetid food, no light – real or otherwise. They open a small panel at the base of a heavily fortified door and shove the small, decayed morsels through.
I have lost track of the time I have been here; all I know is my hair had been shoulder length, and now it is down to my waist. The soldiers call me ‘freak’, ‘witch’, a lost cause. These words hurt me, but I can’t remember why. The hunger takes all thought away – no chance to ease the constant empty burn.
I want freedom. Freedom to eat, and see trees again, and smell the rain. But the hunger is so strong and the soldiers never open the big door. Just the little panel.
Then a new team of soldiers start bringing the ‘food’. They shine bright lights on me, and recoil with disgust – all but one. That one looks at me with sadness. I stay frozen in the corner where I sleep. I don’t move.
I start to think of that one soldier as Sad Man. When I see him the hunger is somehow less. I have hope that he will be my one friend in here.
The new team aren’t as careful as the old one. One day Sad Man comes on his own to feed me, but he has brought no food. Just water. He opens the big door, looks at me for a long time, then leaves the bucket of water beside the door and leaves – leaving the door open.
Is this real?
I have to try.
Creeping over to the bucket I wash myself, as water did nothing for me when I drank it before.
Now clean, I glide through the door and find myself in a long hallway lined with doors. I ignore them all and follow a scent I thought only existed in my dreams, tracking it through a twisting labyrinth to a large glass door – through which I see a man in a white coat. He has white hair and black eyes that make me feel sick; but the irresistible scent is his. He looks up and I remember him – I remember him – but not as he is now. I recall him as he was the first time I set eyes on him: he was not in this form. He was – no, no, he is – the fabled Prince of Darkness wearing a human so he can pass among us, lure us, experiment on us. In a swift look I see he is trying to turn humans into his demonic slaves.
He fixes his gaze on me and I turn, I must run, but I am blocked by Sad Man. I feel relief, short-lived, for he is different now. His eyes, they are devoid of emotion; they are bottomless black, and he smiles at me showing fangs. In a deep guttural voice he says, ‘Now you will be the Master’s – his favourite pet – forever.’ He holds a crystal up to my forehead and mutters beneath his breath, and a wispy smoke comes out of the crystal. It seeps into my body, and I am trapped inside. Something else controls me, makes me want to tear a person apart and drink their blood. I can’t stop it, I can’t control it – but the hunger is gone. I feel content to let The Thing take charge, and fall into blackness. It banished the hunger; for the first time I feel nothing.
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