Heart's Redemption (MxM)

Chapter 43 ~ Sam

I stare at the talisman where it lies in the dirt, and then look back up at Carlos, confused.

Just because he's taken off his protective amulet doesn't mean that demons will come swarming like flies.

In fact, I've seen no trace of demons since we arrived—except for the literal traces around the site of the burned car, that is. Apart from that, though, demons did not seem to be among the Walkers' otherwise considerable troubles.

Yet even as I watch, I see the tell-tale signs of a bad possession begin to manifest. Carlos's brown eyes film over and turn completely white, and a thick black goo, like half-congealed blood, begins to leak from their inner corners and track in sluggish trails down his face. His body contorts, twisting in on itself, and he hunches down with his knees and elbows bent at odd angles, his head tilted so far to the side that I wince when I hear his neck crack. Worst of all, when he smiles up at me, his mouth stretches far too wide, splitting his face, and is packed full of long, needle-thin teeth. He looks like a monster from the lightless depths of the sea.

Or of Hell.

"What the devil..." Karin wonders aloud, staring at Carlos with a look of revulsion and surprise. Clearly, I'm not the only one who can see the demonic manifestations, which means that whatever's got a hold of Carlos is powerful.

Powerful and bad, by the looks of it.

He rolls his head on his neck with another crunch and pop of vertebrae that makes me shudder. I know it's not really hurting Carlos—demonic rules, and all—but it sounds awful. Karin flinches away as the demon's dead-eyed stare lands on him and it smiles, showing off its too-large mouth and nightmare teeth.

Recovering himself, Karin straightens to his full height and looks down his long nose.

"A neat trick," he says, in his best condescending-villain voice, "but you mistake me for the common fool if you think I fear you. I am Karinius Locke, necromancer and demon-tamer, and I will send you back to whichever hell you crawled from as easy as a child blowing out a candle on a birthday cake."

He raises his hand, and I see the occult symbol tattooed on his palm as he begins to chant rapidly under his breath.

"Om hreem shreem kleem masaan..."

As he rambles on, I recognize the mantra as one from the Buddhist tantric tradition, a powerful spiritual weapon when wielded in the right hands, and look at Carlos, expecting to see him writhing in distress.

Instead, his awful, impossible smile stretches even wider still, his needle-teeth dripping some kind of venomous-looking drool, and he laughs.

It's a sickening sound: the rustle of dry leaves and the wet click of bone on bone.

Karin stops chanting and looks down at him where he crouches like a coiled spring, or a loaded trap, clearly surprised.

"What is this? What sort of demon are you? Speak!"

"Deeaath-briiingeerr," it rasps, a long black tongue snaking out past its teeth.

I almost laugh as Karin takes a step back, hand pressed to his breast like an over-dramatic stage actor.

"Well," he gasps, regaining his composure, "my own efforts may have been in vain, but I am fortunate to have the best exorcist in the world at my command. Samasa—remove this devil from your...friend...and send him back to the pit where he belongs."

I cannot disobey, and look at Carlos with a more clinical gaze, seeking the distinction between himself and the being that possesses him.

I can't find it.