Sports Aren't for Me (WINNER)

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My parents had always wanted me to be athletic, no matter how many times I said I hated sports. I had things to enjoy: reading, homework, and an occasional, blissful lack of movement. But they pressured me into athletics, which led to mistakes like the damn demon in my head. All the faulty magic books in that witchy store, and I chose the real deal.

That was my first mistake—summoning a demon-parasite. The second was trusting him to help me play basketball. It was going well till tonight. I was a celebrated member of the team, and I took the position of captain when the last one got an uncanny broken leg. Tonight, however, I cannot be captain, for the team has... disbanded.

I'm in the gymnasium on Halloween Eve, staring at my coach. Well, what used to be my coach. It seems I had an accident.

I put my thumbs into my pockets as I stare at the chunk of charred flesh. If I didn't have a demon in my body, perhaps I'd wear a look of terror instead of this smirk. Ryzlin, my demon, affects my physical traits at the worst times.

My smirk is the least of my problems. My main problem is silencing my remaining teammates permanently.

I had a thought, Ryzlin says out of nowhere, speaking for the first time in minutes.

"Oh no," I groan, putting my hand on my forehead. Nothing good comes from this demon.

I swear it's a good one this time! he claims. Ryzlin is an embarrassment to demonkind.

"Really? Like the idea to snap Thomas' wrist to get the basketball? No? How about when you burnt up my coach since he wanted to keep me out for the rest of the season?" My smirk expands, and my eyelids narrow. Damn demon is taking over my expressions.

Okay, okay. There were other options. But wasn't this one fun? I felt your enjoyment. I wouldn't have chosen a boring vessel, so hear me out.

I take control of my face, choosing to keep a smile, anyway. Ryzlin knows me, I admit. Possibly better than myself.

"Say what you want to say," I tell. Delighted shivers run down my spine, but they are his, not mine.

Wonderful! he cheers. Let's satisfy my pyromania! Burn, burn, burn!

"No, no, no! No fire. Damn it, Ryzlin!" I shout, looking around at my remaining teammates, the ones I hadn't burned after the coach to prevent them from leaving. I fettered them to each other and the bleachers, so they squirm. The jerseys I used to gag them hold in their screams.

Fire will burn the evidence! I'll give you a little char to make you seem like a survivor! Blame it on a psychopathic coach who wanted you all to share in death on All Hallows' Eve! The new day starts in an hour!

As the only survivor, I'll be more than a celebrated player, and I grin at the thought.

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