Irresistible Demon

Prologue

Every now and then I would drift in and out of consciousness. It never lasted long, maybe a few minutes at a time. But every time I woke up, I would be unable to move, see or breath, although I never felt like I needed to breath. On every occasion, I would feel something being pumped into my somehow none frozen veins. It would burn it's way through my body until the burning pain became so intense I would pass out again.

This kept happening over and over again for who knows how long. I lost track of the number of times it happened after 100. I stopped counting and started wishing for death to find me somehow to end my painful and dark existence. I didn't know what had become of Seth and Tyler or if they where even still alive. For all I knew from inside my frozen prison, they had been killed and dissected as soon as we arrived here.

I could feel my consciousness slipping away again. I fought it with all I had, I had to stay awake and find a way to save myself from this hell. But how? How does one escape when they are trapped in a block of ice, unable to move and see?

I tried to get any of my body parts to move, but my stiff flesh refused to cooperate. After a few minutes of resisting, I slipped back into oblivion.

Images flashed through my mind, swirling and mixing together until they all blurred together and blinded me.

The scene slowly settled down and came into focus. I was sitting in the backseat of a car that smelled like alcohol and cigarette smoke. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to look. I froze as I came face to face with... myself but much younger. Then it dawned on me that I was back in my father's car from all those years ago. I looked away from my curled up form squished in the corner of the seat and looked to the front seat. My father was sitting in the driver's seat mumbling drunkenly to himself while the passenger seat was empty letting me know this was sometime after my parents divorced.

I remembered this night as if it happened yesterday. The night my abusive father died and almost took me with him. My father had somehow managed to win custody of me after the divorce on some bullshit excuse of my mom doing drugs some odd years ago, but I had always suspected the judge had been friends with my father and had been paid off to give me to my father as vengeance for my mom leaving him. My mom had sobered up after her miscarriage two years before the divorce and had always been a great mother to me even when she was high.

The night of the accident was the night I was supposed to go back to live with my mother after she had managed to gain custody back form my father through a series of trials she had fought through. No one had ever found out about the abuse my father put me through since he always made sure to not leave any bruises or cuts on the parts of my body he could not cover up with clothes and I had never spoken of it for fear of my father acting on his many threats of killing my mother and making my life even more miserable then it already was if I did talk.

That night, I had been excited to see my mom again after four years of hell with my father. He had spent the day drinking and doing drugs while I packed what little I owned into my old school bag. When the time finally came for us to leave, he had been so drunk he could barely stand, but me being only 8 years old, didn't know any better and could not do anything to stop him driving. He had yelled at me to get in the car and shoved me around like he usually did although he refrained from hitting me, probably fearing my mom would find out, and sped out of the driveway and through the streets.

I was brought back to the moment in the car as my father took a turn too fast, making the tires squeal on the pavement and sending the younger version of me flying against the door. I instinctively reached out towards the shaking form, but my hands passed right through him.

Suddenly, I was back in my body from back then, shaking like a leaf and griping my knees to my chest tightly. There was the honking of a car, more squealing tires, the car spinning out of control and the deafening sound of metal against metal. The world spun and shook for what felt like an eternity before everything went black. What came after was only flashes, me calling for help, managing to untangle myself from the wreck, crawling halfway out of the car, sirens and flashing lights coming down the road, two strong arms pulling me away from the car, an explosion before the car was engulfed in flames with my father still trapped inside, a strange sense of relief flooding over me and then nothing but darkness.

I had fallen into a coma due to head trauma and had only woken up again six months later. I had suffered two broken legs, a broken wrist, head trauma and internal bleeding but was expected to make a full recovery. The day I woke up was also the day my world came crashing down around me. A social worker had walked in after my check up with the doctor and had announced to me that my mom had passed away due to cancer three days ago, robbing me of my last chance at a better life with her and leaving me utterly alone in the world.

Everything became dark once again after the memory had finished replaying itself in my mind, but the pain and despair where still very present and very vivid despite the years that had gone by since then.