5.2: Metaphysics Of Demonic Possession

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The fact that Kitra had gone to Gabby's, and then Gabby came back to the house, was one of the things on Theron's mind while in the wilderness on Monday. Sometimes he could block out thoughts with ease and just live among nature, in the grass and wind and sky, but not today. The smells deeply permeated every surface in the house, collecting in the basement, covering boxes that had been dragged out and put away as if he wouldn't notice. Gabby should have known he'd pick up on their activity. Maybe Kitra pressured her into it. Gabby would crack like an egg if he showed up at her apartment. But he wouldn't do that, because he had already caused enough shit.

It was daylight by the time Theron made it to the perimeter, but he kept going. He was sure there were a few drivers that would swear they'd seen a massive black dog crossing the highway that morning. He didn't mind giving them a show. They didn't know what or who he was. He went straight north and only stopped once he found a dense patch of trees marking the edge of their territory. Theron would settle there in the height of the summer heat to sleep. There was nothing more he could do while it was bright out.

The black wolf nestled into a divot beneath a tree tilted on its gnarled roots, the bed hollowed out and packed down by a dozen occupants before Theron. Grey tufts of fur clung to the bark, stale smells evocative of frowning faces that mocked him, even out here. Theron flopped onto his side, his massive ribs rising and falling with a huff. His bristly tail flopped over his haunch, hind legs kicked out of the hole too small to cradle his entire body, heavy wolf head limp in the dirt. The bottoms of his canines poked out from his lip. He closed his eyes, ears twitching as he listened to the wind rustle the leaves.

Once the sun came down Monday evening, Theron was on the move again.

He thought about how the police might have called him, wondering why he didn't answer all day, maybe even looking for him. Frank would recognize his car at Little Mountain Park. He'd point them that way and tell the rest of the pack to stay home until Theron came back while police searched for him. It made him angry, but it scared him too. He'd never come so close to being in trouble with the law before. This could be the end for him. If they matched his blood at the ice rink, they'd definitely match his blood found in Sadie's hideout.

As darkness swept in, Theron melded with gleaming waves of canola and flax. A cattle farm soaked the air with mud and bovine stench, that of dung and hay and rubber, and oil and gasoline, and milk, and meat. Theron located the farm quickly enough, crossing the gravel road and crouching in the ditch, sniffing the rotting fence. He slipped underneath the lowest rung of tight barbed wire, through grass and into the wooded corner of the acreage, listening to the muffled bellows of cattle inside their barn.

His stomach rumbled impatiently.

Theron darted across a flat expanse between the trees and the barn. Hugging the wall, he sniffed along the ground in search of an entrance point—overgrown grass, weak dirt, a crack in the metal siding. Much of the wall was built on concrete foundation. He snorted and heard cattle on the other side snorting back, mooing to one another warnings about the lurking predator. Theron scanned the grounds beyond, spotting a smaller barn down the dirt driveway, warm with the smell of goats, chickens, and an alpaca.

He licked his nose and took off for the smaller barn. The sounds inside were higher-pitched and frantic; they'd feel his paws on the ground, smell his musk blowing in. Theron stuck his nose to the ground and circled the barn twice, eventually settling on a spot with a natural dip in the ground. This barn was less reinforced. Easy to invade. Theron took mouthfuls of grass and ripped it free, excitedly digging out the hole. He stuck his maw under the wall and breathed in the pungent livestock smell, bolstered by feet thudding backward, panicked animal cries fearful of the monster infiltrating their shelter. Theron dug, working quickly until he could stick his head underneath and in the darkness, saw bodies cowering by the wall. Three goats. Theron's tongue lashed with hunger as he squirmed into the dip, excavating until he had shoved his shoulders under the wall. Once his shoulders were in, the rest followed easily.

Mayhem erupted. The goats bleated and leaped in the darkness trying to evade Theron, but with such limited space, all they could do was race and spread hay around the stall. Theron lunged and grabbed one around its narrow neck, squeezing with ravenous zeal. He didn't waste time savoring the chase; motivated by anger, he clamped with brutal pressure, seeking the instant gratification of death. The goat kicked and fell limp in his teeth. He drank wet, red blood and shook the carcass, ripping flesh with his teeth while the other two goats cowered.

He didn't have much time. The operators of the farm would hear the chaos soon. Theron relished it—the noise, the panic, the destruction. That he had obliterated the silence and made it anarchy. His eyes flashed wickedly as he turned to the other two goats.

The massacre was over within ten minutes. A horn struck his flank, but only hard enough to bruise. The goats were mangled in their stall, pieces missing out of their necks and stomachs and anywhere else Theron fancied a mouthful. It wasn't a hearty meal by any means—just bites he could hastily rip and chew—but it satisfied the anger that was burning up inside him. He'd never killed a human before, but he'd killed many, many animals, and he liked to think a human would be no different. Maybe it would be even more satisfying. It depended, he supposed, if they deserved it.

Theron cleaved through dark, slimy organs before he heard the distant sounds of an investigation. He raised his head and licked viscera from his sticky maw, and like a shadow, bolted for the hole he made. The wolf slipped outside just as the door to the barn opened and flashlights flooded the floor.

His heart pounded with pleasure as he vanished into the wilderness, a demon loose on the mortal plane.

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