Copyright JC Wallace 2013
Welcome to another installment of Diventando: Becoming. If you are new and haven’t read the previous chapters, click on Wednesday Briefs in the left hand column and start with #1. This week’s prompt. Enjoy and feel free to leave a comment.
Incubus? They caught a fucking Incubus? Wait. Wasn’t that some kind of oversexed demon? Didn’t one of Drew’s online games have an Incubus? No, that was a Succubus, the female version of the demon. But still...
They didn’t exist.
Again, Owen wanted to believe that all of this was all some kind of a sick joke. Maybe this was what professors of Mythology found amusing. Nothing about the situation was amusing here and passing the initial horror of the situation, Owen’s anger grew. Not only were these strangers fucking with him, but Turk as well. They’d gone on a date and kissed and now…Someone was going to tell Owen what the fuck was going on or he was going to kick ass! He pulled on the restraints. Okay, maybe he wasn’t kicking anything, but he was going to tell them what he thought of what they were doing.
“Hey,” Owen said. Turk spoke with Dr. Sealy and Malcolm and as usual no one was paying him any attention. “Hey!”
Three sets of eyes turned to Owen, but he was only interested in Turk’s. And once those poignant brown eyes were on him, Owen lost all recall of what he’d wanted to say. Despite the steely hard stare, Turk was warring with himself. Owen could tell a man torn between two truths, and Turk was waging a battle between his mind and heart—or possibly that was just wishful thinking on Owen’s part.
“Turk, please, why are you doing this? I don’t understand. Wayne…He was here with me, in the hospital. He’s got to be worried. Please, just let me out of here.” Owen was tired and terrified and he just wanted out of the psycho world he’d crashed into.
A momentary softening of Turk’s expression made Owen hope, however Malcolm snarled and stepped up to the bed. “Shut up or I’m going to tape your mouth shut again, demon.”
Owen heard the comical laughter bubble out of him before he realized he was the one laughing. Demon? Did they think he was a demon? Shit, he didn’t even know how to drive! He shook his head. What the fuck’s that got to do with being a demon? he thought. Tears welled in his eyes from his uncontrollable laughter as he contemplated the claim that he was a demon. Shit, he was weak and pathetic and had been sick for so long.
Sick…but not sick.
But he’d been ill countless times and had suffered through chemo while taking drugs to keep him from throwing up and to increase his appetite and to strengthen his immune system (that one had made him sicker than a dog) and it had been a vicious cycle, but…
Owen choked back his laughter, sobering to the reality before him. What had Dr. Celo been doing to him if not treating him for leukemia? His mother, his step-father, Wayne…They’d all spoken about his leukemia, had talked about the illness at length, had discussed treatments, and had shown Owen articles and fact sheets and…
“We do not even have confirmation of inhabitation.”
“He called me ‘hunter’.”
“We have finally caught the Incubus.”
Owen closed his eyes against the madness infiltrating his brain. The thoughts were preposterous, in the realm of fantasy and bordering on insanity. That’s what was happening...A psychotic break. Hearing voices in his head, being here in this room, dreams of that disembodied voice and Turk…
“I am life. But I am also death.”
Turk’s icy, malicious glare from Owen’s dream stabbed at his chest. He struggled to draw in a deep breath. A cold chill raced up his spine, while sweat popped out on his skin. Owen clenched his teeth at the need to scream and shout at the countless memories assaulting him. He wasn’t a demon. He was human and he was going absolutely bat shit crazy—and was horny as hell at times. Owen had been two steps away from fucking Malcolm and Owen wasn’t even attractive to the man.
“Once I unite with the male, I will be powerful enough to emerge fully. After decades of dark cramped spaces, I will finally come to be.”
Owen clenched his hands together ignoring the restraints cutting into his wrists. The pain was a moment of clarity in his panic driven mind. None of what he’d heard or experienced was true. However, he couldn’t block out the memory of being shoved aside in his own mind by a powerful force. It was a force that had recognized Turk, was fearful of the large man, and pissed off to boot. Owen was sure that if whatever was in his head came forth, there would be a massive knock down drag out fight between it and Turk.
Oh shit, now he was thinking whatever was in his head was real.
“No,” he groaned as a wave of heat smashed into him like a sledgehammer. Fuck, not again. That familiar pressure in his head had him pulling at the restraints to free his hands. His head was going to explode. A sharp pain and he cried out his eyes popping open as he heard the voice in his head again.
“There’s no escaping me. Soon I will emerge and nothing can save you, human.”
“No! Fuck you!” Owen cried as he fought off the fucking demon trying to take over his body.
He had a demon inside of him. Did he need an exorcism? Images from the movie The Exorcist, almost had him chuckling maniacally, but instead a sob tore from his throat. Someone was behind him and then a needle was unceremoniously shoved into his hand again. The icy cold solution flooded his veins as tears coursed down his cheeks along with any hope he’d managed to hold onto.
When he opened his eyes he saw Turk backed up against the door, his expression solemn and his eyes glassy, a juxtaposition to what he really was.
Owen guessed that made him the prey.
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