Belief In The Occult

One

 The new entity was...

"Would you stop your incessant whispering? I am attempting to focus."

"It's not me."

Kind of a drag. Not Varick's own words, of course, he attributed the simple but painfully accurate use of slang to Ramsey. Varick found him simply... contrary. Constantly. He was starting to think the little thing was doing it on purpose.

The new one was recently created, his Belief having built up over the last few months from a children's game of all things. Then again, children were prone to extremely morbid fascinations.

The game itself had the same fundamentals as Bloody Mary, with a few key differences. You needed a dark room, as many candles as you felt was ambiently appropriate, and a mirror. The size generally didn't matter, but it was best if it was larger than your hand and it couldn't be dirty. You and maybe anyone you had with you would look into it and ask, "What are you afraid of?" Then the new poltergeist would appear behind you and... cases varied on what happened next. Sometimes your worst fear would appear before your eyes. Sometimes he'd show you something to really be afraid of. There were even some reports of injuries and near-death.

Because the use of a mirror was involved, Bloody Mary herself got first pick, and the old archdemon adopted him. He was still a bit listless, but his connection to the ancient and more importantly violent archdemon put a flashing 'hands off' sign above his head.

Varick had agreed to mentor him as a favor to his old friend Mary, and maybe he saw some small amount of potential in the new entity's occasional bouts of violence. Poltergeists had pretty good reputations for torment.

But he was just so unbearably sullen.

His name was Kodiak, and his appearance seemed to mimic that of his attack demographic, looking to only be 18 or 19, pale with short dark hair and pitch black eyes, dressed in a navy blue hoodie worn at the edges, black sweatpants, and scuffed hightops. He had the capability of at least being unsettlingly creepy, always near-silent with a cold and clammy aura and a blank, lifeless stare. He was normally quiet, but sometimes his aura gave off the constant low-grade noise of voices whispering unintelligibly.

Varick stared at him, and the whispering simply continued at a slightly quieter volume. Varick pinched the bridge of his nose and growled, "At the very least wipe that pitiful frown off your face, you will have time to yourself to mope around after we are through training today."

"I can't... literally."

"Mayhaps you could tone it down a bit?" Varick attempted to concede.

The younger demon's eyebrows slowly knit together. "You're practically... asking for the impossible." Kodiak spoke very slowly, in a sort of halt-and-go manner. At the very least he wasn't constantly screaming like Ramsey or his charge, that high energy monster.

"Endeavor to look more angry than miserable then, constant sorrow is La Llorona's aesthetic, and you're little enough for her to mistake you as mortal." Varick snapped.

"I can't... help it. I'm just really... low energy." Kodiak whined. And, well, he was.

"All you do is brood and complain endlessly." Varick said, clearly frustrated. Was there no end to the younger entity's repetitive cycle? It was getting on his nerves and he would say he was beginning to regret agreeing to mentor the whiny brat, if he hadn't already gotten so attached to him. "Why is that?"

"It's kind of... my thing."

"Tell me then, child, what can I do to put a stop to your ceaseless moping?" Inquired Varick, giving Kodiak an exasperated look as he straightened the creases in his suit, "Is there anything to ease your mind?"