I didn't even begin to imagine how many words accumulated inside of me, ripening and rotting, poisoning me with toxic vapours and bursting out from within. Phrases came out with repulsive spasms making it hard to breathe. My mind puked out shreds of memories, maddening chunks of a nightmare.
Then, everything came to a sudden halt. There were no words left. No thoughts remaining. Just feelings.
The scent of cologne, mixed with a light smell of laundry detergent on warm human skin. The soft sensation of a jacket, clumped where my fingers were fitfully clutching. The feeling of fabric, damp from my tears. The heartbeat by my ear.
The weight of a man's hand under my head.
This weight filled me with a feeling of tranquillity and safety. With those putrid words gone, I now felt lighter than a cicada that just shed its skin. So light, that even the slightest breeze could carry me far, far away, blowing me into pieces of chitin, legs, antennae. But the steady hand would not let me fly away.
Good.
But for how long? How many heartbeats are left before my inevitable return?
What I used to call home was now filled with a thick fog of hatred. A fog from which I escaped when Olaf finally led my mother away from my room, like a rabbit running from the jaws of a wolf.
The old park, damp under the rain, introduced me to a labyrinth of empty leaf-covered alleys that I wandered until Johan came.
"Two years ago, my dad sent me and Sophie to a summer sports school."
A lighter clicked, exhaling a bitter stream of smoke that mixed with the cold dampness and rose up into the dim space between Johan's jacket and his body. Johan quickly covered me with half of the jacket, hiding me under the warm shelter that I've been sitting in for the last... half an hour? Less? Regardless, confessing my embarrassing actions was easier in the dark, with squinted eyes, pressing my burning forehead against the chest of a person who cares.
It was unusual to hear Johan's voice echo in the depths of his body, so close to mine.
"The camp was quite interesting; there were games, hikes, survival lessons. One of the best teachers was this Polish guy named Vatslaw. There are some lucky people on this planet; they know everything, can do anything and make people feel the opposite of jealous. Vatslaw was one of those people. I think he earned the favour of everyone in the school as there was always a group of open-mouthed kids following him."
"I didn't even notice how I became one of his favourites. There were ten of us at first, a little group of mischievous kids that snuck out into the forest at night. We told scary stories by the fire and made altars from roots to honour the woodland spirits. One day, Vatslaw made an ouija board. We all had fun but Vatslaw... he was selecting."
"When the choice was made, our group began to grow smaller. One guy broke his leg, then a pair of brothers decided they wanted to leave. One after another the kids found reasons to stop attending the 'sessions.' By the end of summer, there were only two of us left. The one that stayed along with me was Irji, a boy who was tiny but somehow way stronger than me. He could control memories of objects and even infuse them with power. Despite that, Vatslaw also praised me, calling me a strong medium and making me very proud of myself."
"It's very painful and embarrassing for me to remember what happened during our midnight trips but you need to know. The most important point is that was the first time I stumbled upon the Abyss."
"'Magic' is too simple and vulgar of a word to describe the interaction with the eternal darkness of starving eyes. It would be next to impossible to explain everything to someone who has never experienced it themselves even if I was the best storyteller in the world. I remember how it was a sensation similar to being dissolved yet at the same time getting your whole being purified, achieving your true self. Have you heard the phrase, 'when you stare into the Abyss, the Abyss stares back?' It really is like that, with one addition."
"When the Abyss starts to stare into you then you yourself start to become the Abyss, falling into your microcosm. It is utterly terrifying so you try to grasp at the slimy tentacles of darkness, letting them intrude into you. They become an escape rope above the chasm of your own Abyss. Do you understand?"
"Hundreds of dimensions that contain creation itself. You approach the dark interior of 'You' and there is no choice but to let the feelers touch it, opening and pushing it into the light. Most of the time it feels revolting, sometimes pleasant but it's always incredibly fascinating and unlike anything you have experienced or felt before. Every contact opens up new feelings of disgust and pleasure as you let the tentacles drag you deeper and deeper, knowing that this journey does not have an end, that your abyss does not have a bottom."
"I don't know how it would've ended if someone didn't expose us. Luckily, only some minor details got revealed but that was enough to get Vatslaw fired and us two to get sent home."
"I still had withdrawal symptoms for months after that. As I was leaving the campgrounds, it felt as if I finally woke up but some unknown force was trying to drag me back. Some time later Vatslaw found me on social media but, afraid of the future, I deleted all of my accounts. For almost a year I spoke to no-one but Sophie. She held onto me at the edge of the crevice. One day I got the news from one of my classmates that Irji committed suicide."
"He hung himself on his tenth birthday."
"With time, I almost stopped feeling the Abyss breathing behind my back, not questioning what it cost me. It's like cauterising a wound with a hot light bulb until the nerve endings stop working. That was until about two weeks ago."
"When I barged into Sophie's room, she was drawing a pentagram on the floor while weeping. That son of a bitch that left her, broke her spirit, do you get it? I would've killed him for a single drop of my sister's tears but we live in a civilised society so that's illegal. They lock you up for violent behaviour."
"One way or another, Sophie looked into the Abyss and got her answer. For that to happen is already incredibly rare and not to mention on the first try! Whether it's our genes or my infection that somehow spread to Sophie, I don't know. One thing for sure is that if I hadn't come with you two to the graveyard that night, she would've done this alone."
"Revenge became her reason to live and she wouldn't have stopped until her ex-boyfriend paid for his actions, that's the problem! I appeared within the satellites, promised to bring thunder and lightning to the maximum but in reality, I was trying to knock off the Abyss from my sister, to shield her with myself. But something went wrong."
"Inga, could you get up for a bit? My everything is numb."
I reluctantly moved away from Johan and opened my eyes for the first time since he brought me to what I now realised was an old stone gazebo with a few cracked benches. The dancing flame of the lighter sharply stung my tired pupils.
Johan stood up, stretching and cracking his joints and leaned against a pillar, distantly looking at the cigarette trembling between his fingers.
"Generally speaking, I haven't felt any danger that night or even after that. Sophie was always slightly irritable so I haven't even noticed how it grew, and then... Perhaps we can start calling things our way now... She got possessed."
Johan pursed his lips so hard they turned white, save for a couple of spots on his lower lip where there was a dried trail of blood. He let out a deep sigh and continued.
"Possessed by something shitty. A demon, maybe multiple. I actually lied to you yesterday. You see, Dad didn't drive to see a doctor, he drove to see a pastor."
I completely froze. Scenes of exorcisms from movies danced in my head and I couldn't believe that a pastor would read prayer verses and splash holy water at the poor Sophie, who in turn would curse and struggle against the ropes binding her to the bed. The same scenario that would await me.
"So, the same demons are inside me, too?" I faintly asked.
"You have something else. It sounds very similar to an Incubus but one contradiction is bothering me; why is he trying to drag you back to the graveyard? It's very unusual for an incubus since they can freely move around."
"Incubus? Is that one of the demons? I don't know anything about them, this is terrible! How do I banish it? Are you going to help me?"
Johan bit his lip by force of habit, making him wince and cover his mouth. He took a glance at the bloody stain on his hand and sighed indifferently while wiping it off against his jeans.
"Incubi are a sort of ancient natural spirits that have a developed intellect. They feed off human sexual energy but aren't very dangerous, although they can ruin your life. But your inhabitant is too aggressive for an Incubus. He already forced you to come to him twice and I'm afraid he will do it again."
"I am also terrified but what can I do? Stop sleeping?"
"I'm sure you realise how stupid that sounds"
"Maybe I can lock myself inside?"
"That's an option, but you might go crazy like that."
"Johan, please don't scare me. I don't even know what's in store for me at home! Mom will call the mental hospital if that happens again..."
"It will happen again, at night. I am sure you will have another episode tonight. You're a source of food for the incubus and he won't stop until he gets what he needs."
"And you're so calm about this," I whispered. "Basically writing me a death sentence and... don't you care about what will happen to me?"
"I do," Johan squinted angrily. "And that's why I thought we'd return to the graveyard together. I'll see what I can do to help."
"You can't even imagine how much I want to meet your demon!"