Demons (MCYT x Phasmophobia Fanfic)

But I Am Hell Bound

Summary:
Impulse's final mission begins, but it isn't anywhere close to what he expected.

[Trigger Warnings]

The demon let out an unearthly hiss, startling its adversaries. It was nearly time. Its energy was nearly at its threshold, then it could hunt. A little bit more, now, from the draining sanity and increasing fear of the hunters milling about in his room, his house, his home. The demon growled as one of the hunters came into the room with another cross. It could already feel the burning heat from the holy object as the hunter moved to lay it in the centre of the kitchen. The demon didn't give him a chance; it sprang forward, materialising into the human plane of reality.

Its eyes glowed gold as pitch black claws wrapped around the cross-bearing hunter's neck, digging into his delicate skin. Horns emerged from its scalp, lustrous gold - like its eyes - gleaming in the flickering lights from where they jutted out from his forehead. The hunter's companion lit a smudge stick, causing the demon to reel away, fanning the smoke out of its face. The demon could hear them running through the house, footsteps pounding in the hallways as they sought sanctuary in closets and behind furniture.

The smog cleared and the demon leapt forward again, a whip-thin tail completing its look. It remained humanoid for the most part, save for the horns and razor-sharp claws. It found the first hunter easily, picking him up by the neck and throwing him to the floor in front of the front door. The hunter gasped for air as he pressed against the wall, the empty journal forgotten on the floor.

The demon left him there, searching for the three remaining humans in its haunt. Two were cowering behind the living room couch, sandwiched helplessly between the wall and cushions. They violently joined the first hunter, both clutching hands to their scratched and bleeding throats.

The final hunter had found his way upstairs, holding the doors of a cupboard closed with one white-knuckled grip. The other hand shakily grasped the cross defensively in front of him as meagre protection against the rampaging demon. The demon threw open the doors, reaching around the burning sensation of the cross and curling its claws into the hunter's shirt.

"The power of Christ!" the hunter screamed, thrusting the burning cross into the demon's face. It snarled, grabbing the hand holding the holy object in a crushing grip. They heard the audible crunch as the hunter's arm broke, both bones shattering in the demon's hold. The cross fell to the ground as the demon dragged the final human downstairs, throwing him at his battered companions.

The demon growled ferociously, howling, "Don't come back!!" To emphasise, it scrawled the same message in large, blocky letters in the journal and threw it at the head of the first hunter, scattering the pages. With that, it dematerialised, returning to the shadows and allowing their flashlights to flicker back on. The hunters wasted no time in yanking the door open and fleeing down the concrete path to their truck, slamming the ramp closed and driving off into the darkest hour of the night.

Finally, the demon allowed itself to breathe, closing the door brusquely and retiring once again to the shadows. In the morning, an exorcist would come calling, removing its claim on the house. It was almost sad to know it was leaving its haunt, but the demon knew it was for the best. It welcomed its return to the pits of the Nether with open arms.

It didn't actually want to kill anyone, which was why it had released the quartet of hunters. Such behaviour was frowned upon in Hades – condemned, even – but the demon couldn't bring itself to care.

Impulse had morals, after all, even if they didn't align with the standard set by his superiors. He had performed his mission as instructed. Sure, it was risky for him to dispose of the hunters like he had, but he'd always been, well, impulsive. It wasn't like he was already on his second strike. However, Impulse had morals, and he wasn't going to violate them in favour of staying on the good side of the higher-ups.