I believe in:
Aria wearing a ponytail supremacy 🧎♀️
Alastor's POV
This marks the second night I've slept in her bed.
I glanced over at her sleeping form next to me.
Her soft breathing and even heartbeat let me know she was out. She was turned on her side, facing away from me.
I looked down at the little book in my hands. I haven't read much of it, it's all so...stupid.
It's talking about ghosts and presences, and nothing is of help.
I sighed, turning the page. I was using my powers to illuminate the pages, making sure to keep the light dim so she wouldn't wake up.
I started the new paragraph, my eyelids lowered in boredom.
But that didn't last for long.
My eyebrows furrowed as I read over the words.
Human contact with a demonic presence is dangerous. A demonic entity is not physically bound to this realm, meaning it draws energy from something to manifest.
If a demon is manifesting in one's home, they need to be expelled immediately, because they are drawing energy from the host inside the home.
I glanced over at her. My eyes softened on her small form, and I looked back at the page.
If ignored, depending on the host, this could be deadly. Once the host's energy is drained, bodily failure soon follows.
I felt my mouth go dry.
Deadly...?
Am I...killing her?
I looked over at her once again, checking on her heartbeat. It seems normal...
I scoffed, my ears laying back momentarily before they quickly perked back up.
This book doesn't know what it's talking about. I make enough energy on my own. In fact, I could go back to hell right now if I truly wished to.
A hard emphasis on that if.
I smiled and shook my head, then my expression faltered and I glanced back at the page. My fingers toyed with the edge of the paper, and then I grasped it and tore it out.
Wouldn't want her to see this and...stress herself out.
I folded it and then placed it inside my coat pocket.
I shut the book, placing it on her little bedside table. I snapped and my clothing changed into a more comfortable t-shirt and flannel pants.
I was just about to turn over when she stirred next to me. Immediately I paused and turned towards her.
Her heartbeat had risen significantly. Her body quivered, and I was hit with the overwhelming scent of pure terror.
I slowly turned to face my body towards her. I reached out, but my hand paused just by her arm.
Should I wake her?
Her body curled up, and her breathing became ragged.
Then she started talking.
My eyes widened when she spoke, and I felt paralyzed.
"Alastor—! Don't—!"
"Stop!"
"Stop it—! ...please...Alastor—stop..."
Her whimpers made my throat feel like it was closing. The way she was saying my name was like she was begging me.
She rolled onto her back, her back arching off the bed. Her teeth were clenched and she had tears leaking from her eyes.
What is she seeing...what is she seeing me do.
"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop!"
She shot up, her next words tearing from her throat in a scream.
"Alastor NO!"
Her heavy breaths caused her chest to heave. She immediately hunched over, pulling her knees to her chest.
She looks like she's seen a ghost.
I reached out to her, "dear...?"
Her head snapped in my direction, and her eyes widened, a new wave terror washed over her.
She jerked away from me, covering her eyes with her balled up fists.
"Oh god it's not over!" She cried out, and I recoiled from her.
What do I do. I don't know what to do.
My fingers curled into a fist, and I furrowed my eyebrows in frustration.
How do I comfort her when I'm literally the cause of her distress?!
I growled, reaching forward and grabbing her by the shoulders. She cried out, immediately using her fists to strike my chest. She hit me and pushed against my face.
I myself was getting flashbacks to when I did this sort of thing as a hobby.
I shook her slightly, "Aria!"
"Alastor! Alastor! Alastor don't!" She sobbed heavily, still doing everything she could to strike my chest and face.
I grabbed hold of her wrists, holding them firmly.
"Aria look at me!" I was nearly yelling, trying to get her to hear me over her sobs.
"Aria, you're not dreaming, look at me!"
Her eyes opened, her body trembling.
When her eyes met mine, that trembling ceased.
Her tiny pupils dilated, and the terror rolling off of her stopped blinding my senses.
The initial relief I felt soon flipped to worry when she was looking at me completely differently. Her expression changed to one of disgust.
She pulled against my hold on her wrists, and I stared down at her. I was having trouble holding my smile up, and part of me knew it wasn't helping her current state.
When I didn't let go of her she stopped struggling.
"Who are you...?" She nearly whispered, "are you the person in my dreams...or someone different?"
I searched her face. I needed something, I needed a hint, I needed a sign. What does she want me to say.
But all I was met with was a broken stare. Eyes that saw something they weren't meant to see.
"Aria, I am someone who would never lay a finger to hurt you...in any way..." I said softly, "I've never been unable to hurt someone before in my life," I continued, my voice straining.
Honesty is the best policy, but for me honesty never comes easy. Not like this.
She blinked slowly, and I pulled her wrists together, taking both her hands in mine.
"But I cannot and will not hurt you. That man in your dreams, yes he is me...and I hate that you have to see what I truly am on the inside, but please, do not think that man would ever hurt you...you're my friend, Aria," I said, desperately trying to bring her back.
She has a far away look in her eyes, like she's barely even there.
But slowly she returned, and her expression let up. It was no longer fully distressed.
I released her hands, and she just stared up at me.
She shook her head, and looked down. Her hair was messy and fluffed up, and fell in front of her face.
My eyes softened and so did my entire expression.
"Would you like to talk about it...?" I asked her quietly.
Immediately I regretted asking when her face twisted up into a saddened expression, tears swimming in her eyes.
"Never mind, never mind dear—"
"You skinned him alive..."
My eyes widened.
Skinned alive...? Which one was...oh wait, I remember him.
The banker.
Her voice was tiny, barely even there. Her fists were tight in her lap, her body shaking just barely. I could tell the memory was still fresh.
"No matter how loud he screamed you just...laughed...like you'd just heard the funniest joke..." she continued in that same soft whisper.
Her eyes never met mine, "and when you were done playing...you cut him up, and I was forced to watch the entire time..."
I looked down at her a moment longer, letting my guard down just slightly as my smile relaxed. I bent forward, just enough to where I could see her properly.
She glanced up at me and then away.
A tear fell down her face and I reached up and gently swiped it away.
"Dear...now, I know, I am sick, and what I did and still do is far more sinister than anything you've ever wished to see...but if you'd let me tell you why I do it, I think you may just be able to look me in the eyes again," I said, matching her soft tone.
Her eyes widened and her lips parted before quickly sealing, and she just nodded slightly.
"Alright then, cher, come here," I said, gently pulling her into my lap. She tensed, but almost immediately relaxed against my chest when I ran my fingers through her hair.
"Let me tell you a story."