Rosanne felt the corners of her mind fading into the abyss that shrouded her mind. The light she had seen was slowly drifting into black. Her eyes shifted from left to right, looking for the obscured traitor lurking in her mind. She felt anger surge through her and she knew the Being was near. The light faded to a dim haze and she could clearly see the scene in front of her, though, through it all, she was feeling as though something was leaving her body.

She balled her dainty hands into fists, fingernails biting into the palms of her hands, drawing out a pool of blood which dripped onto the floor, staining it. Pain – it was the only real thing left for her. The fine line between madness and reality started becoming blurred. “Not again…” she helplessly thought to herself. Rosanne knew that something had gone terribly wrong. She knew it was over and that she would wake up with blood on her hands as the thing possessing her would demand for the blood of a human. She knew it was a Demon and not her because sometimes the thing would whisper a command to her to kill an unsuspecting mortal. She felt tears well in her eyes as the world went black.

Her eyelids fluttered briefly, like the wings of a newly-born butterfly, spreading its wings tentatively, feeling the environment surrounding it. Opening her eyes, she felt coagulated liquid, warm, wet, and sticky on her hands. The thing had made her kill again and she did not know when it would occur next. Horrified, she slowly pulled herself up from the bed. She grabbed the remote and instinctively switched the television to the news channel. Her fears were confirmed when she heard the newsreader say, “Another murder has been committed within the vicinity and we advise members of the public to remain indoors at night.” She shook her head to clear it and rewound the news to hear it again. Dread filled her body. She had no idea why the Demon liked to kill only men. She just wanted the Demon to leave her body.

Rosanne got to her feet and walked towards the bathroom. Turning on the tap, she washed the blood from her hands and watched the pink water flow down the sink. Two sharp raps startled her. Clumsily turning off the tap, she jumped straight and turned to look at her door. She heard another loud banging sound on the door. “This is the police! Open Up!” she heard someone bellow through the thin wooden door. She knew what she should do. She then saw the door come crashing open and heard them scream “Don’t move!” She stared ahead and felt her stomach drop to the floor. She would be punished for the crimes of the Demon. “There is no use fighting it,” snickered the Demon. Rosanne started struggling as the police, without a shadow of a doubt, knew, from the blood on her body, that they had found her. She started shouting “It was not me! It was this… this thing… I know I sound crazy, but it’s the truth!” She repeated it over and over. She then blacked out, as a policeman tased her and once again, her world turned black.

Sometimes, the Demon would take over and she would not have any inkling of an idea as to what she had said to the police, but she knew the Demon would not be able to taunt her to kill and take control of her mind, body and spirit. She knew she would not kill. The pills they gave her every afternoon at two and evening at seven, helped curbed the Demon’s vicious taunts.

Rosanne is now safe. She resides in a stark-white room with a small, round table and some writing materials as she loves to write. She still does go into a trance at times, especially when the Demon in her whispers terrible words to her.

As days crawled by, Rosanne – if she was still in there – gave up memories of her childhood, her youth, her love, and eventually her life. What was left of her conscious self was buried deep within her mind, body and spirit and she knew that she would be safe in this new place.



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