twisted demons wrap themselves around the cerebral cortex squeezing reality from the mind like toothpaste from an old tube of crest cinnamon flavor. dreams, phobias, psychosis and hysteria all rage forth into the ether of the subconscious fleeing the self induced destruction of sanity. desperate in their attempts to find a dark hole in which to hide from the promised fire works. screams of horror emanate from the soul still occupying this shell of a body.
outside the body superstition has been replaced by science and new beliefs. no longer is humanity subjected to the ancient rituals. the demons possessing this one miss the old days. the father merrins with their holy book, holy water and holy cross, screaming in latin for them to leave the body behind and return to the bowels from which they had crawled. half the fun of possession was battling the old fools with their ancient rites foolishly believing some water, some paper and some wood could remove them from the soul before destroying god’s creation.
science on the other hand was nothing more than a party crasher, removing the fun, the spirit, and the joy of battle for the human mind. no more fun and games. no more taunting the priests. drugs numbed the being to their presence and the introduction of electrical current to the brain made the whole place rather uninhabitable.
no possession lacked the spirit of the old days. torture a few souls and than leave just as the party is getting started. next thing you know his evil majesty himself would begin outsourcing possession to those imps who scurried around the gates of hell begging for human flesh. there had to be a better way for a demon to make a living.
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