The Battle Within

 

Everyone thought Hell was hot, come on, lakes of fire here. But for Claw it was ice cold, colder than the grave, and he hated it. At one time or another, having tried everything to escape, he had only one option left; find a human to possess before his inner demon fire, his life force, succumbed to the cold.

     He went trolling, trying to find someone susceptible, someone to take. He wasn’t after a soul, so no trickery needed. Claw wanted the body, the essence of being, and he was prepared to take it by brute force. It took a while, but finally he found a spark that resonated with his essence. Compatibility was key to a successful possession.

     He entered the dream of a little girl ripe for the picking, and invaded, pushing her consciousness deep, subverting control.

     Refreshed in his new body, Claw blazed with a heat he hadn’t known in millennia. He woke to morning sunshine filtered through pretty buttercup-yellow, lace curtains. He opened is eyes to a cheerful little room with dolls, games, and toys. Directly across from the bed, a small vanity with mirror showed him a little girl with gossamer tangles of wavy black hair and bright blue eyes. There on her dewy, ivory cheek rode his mark, four strokes of a claw. 

     Where Am I? I can’t see. A little voice sounded in his new head.  Mommy! Mommy! Are you there? Help me, please. He could hear the tiny hiccupping sobs that accompanied the words inside him.

     Quiet, little girl, no one can hear you but me!

     Who are you? Where am I?

     I am Claw, High Demon of the Hell Realms, I have taken over your body, and by morning you will   no longer exist. This body is mine.

     He used his will and power over her to shove her down, where her sweet, chiming voice couldn’t bother him. There was a whole new world for him to explore.

     He followed the sound of voices from the room to a kitchen in chaos. Three other people sat at a breakfast bar, leaving one seat available for him. He had no interest in them. The food sitting at the girl’s customary place however did. He climbed up on the wooden stool and examined the offerings before him. He could smell a sweet tang from the short plastic cup and there was yellow fluff and rubber like sticks on the plate.

     “Drink all your orange juice,” the woman said. “Clean your plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, then you can play till naptime. Mommy has a lot of laundry to do this morning.” When she tried to run her hand over his hair, he ducked her touch.

     Fascinated by the food, he picked up one of the strips and bit. His eyes popped wide, he moaned at the meaty, chewy, smoky experience of flavor and texture. Nothing in his vast experience had ever pleased him more. He quickly finished the bacon, and while he enjoyed the eggs and juice, he wanted more. No matter what he had to do, he vowed never to leave a world that had bacon in it.

     Claw spent the rest of the morning trying to figure out what little girls did. Every once in a while the woman stuck her nose in his business, mostly when he was quiet for any length of time. Wise to her machinations, he made sure to create some kind of noise often enough to keep her out of what he already considered his domain.

     Eventually, no matter his diligence at noise, the woman returned calling him for something called lunch. He once again found himself seated with food in front of him. He furtively scanned for more bacon, but was disappointed at not finding any, just an orangey red liquid in a bowl and a triangle of crispy white with yellow ooze in the center.

     He looked at the woman and asked, “Is there more bacon?”  His eyes locked on her like tractor beams hoping for an affirmative response. He was sadly disappointed.

     “You had bacon this morning. No more. Eat your soup and sandwich. It’s almost naptime.”

     Tasting soup and sandwich, he liked them and found them pleasing, but it wasn’t bacon. Pissed not to get what he wanted, he threw a fit as only a High Demon could.  He found himself back in his bed, butt stinging and hungry.

     The woman, surely more evil than Satan himself, had overpowered him, swatted his behind with her hand numerous times, then dragged him to the bed as she yelled, “Young lady, we do not tolerate this behavior and you know it! Get in bed and do not come out until dinner. I will be back in fifteen minutes, you had better be asleep.”

     Too terrified to disobey, Claw lay down and closed his eyes. He laid there and searched for the original essence inside, coaxing her to a level where she could understand him. Even bacon isn’t worth this. I’m going back to Hell. That Mommy woman is violent and scary. Satan is nicer.   

     Before she could say anything, Claw vacated her body.