Boo-Ya

7/7: Posessions

Really, it is the story of a classical and cliche-filled haunting. Maven has to give Thomas credit for changing his approach at the start.

Bruises and bites, loud sounds, the whole show that has happened here now again.
Everyone in the family hurt. Especially the son.

His excuse was falling downstairs. His body looked more like a whole beat up broken mess from an assault.

The other members complained about headaches. They would blink and have memory gaps on how they moved around rooms. They suspected a gas leak but nothing came out of it.

Another complained about the mass of insects.

"That sounds like people believe in ghosts."

"I don't know. Someone was talking about the way people act strange. He was convinced his son was actually posessed. Not that I think that is..." Cal moves his jaw strained. "They are all scared, Maven."

"It wasn't my fault," Thomas explains flitting up and down beside them. "It wasn't my fault, I swear, I just wanted to be noticed, and then I wanted to have a- I mean..I wanted a friend. You know that yeah?"

Maven keeps avoiding looking at him, punishing him with icy silence. The lights flicker.

Then the bulbs explode.

Cal stares at the splintered glass.

"It's time to go," Maven decides.

The floating figure waves again and in some neighboring room a door smashes close. Then the one to their room follows a loud smash that echoes through the house. Someone in the hallway mutters a curse.

"Don't leave me here, don't leave me."

The words are frantic. Understandable fear.

"You gonna move on and let me rot yeah?"

He considers it a moment as he moves the teeth-marked arm and scraped skin. It doesn't hurt, it tickles in a way that doesn't feel too bad right now.

"I'm not letting you go." The voice is desperate.The grey hand was floating before his face to gain his attention. Now it holds tightly to his shoulder, as if Maven is an anchor point and Thomas drags himself to him to not drown. "Not again. Not again going through this."

It is sort of flattering. After all the invested time. To have something willing to grip and not let go.

The next part is less flattering.

His hand disappears with a cold sensation through his shoulder blade and acid rises in his throat when something hits him in the stomach.

Something squirms inside him, buries him in a blanket, smothers his sight in grey. It is a strange feeling, like another intrusive thought or heavy impulse that makes his hand twitch.

Don't leave, just stay, it's okay. Or take me with you. Come on. We go together.

His feet turn around. He stares at them.

"I forgot something in my room. Don't worry, yeah?" The voice has a funny drawl that isn't very good at impersonating Maven.

Carved into one side of his skull, Thomas turns some muscles and movies them. He gets distracted moving his legs and Maven has to make sure he doesn't fall.

Holy shit, it is kinda dark inside here, Thomas notes. Your mother really did that? No wonder you don't sleep ever. I should have haunted her harder.

The feeling is like salt rubbed in an invisible wound.

The control doesn't last for long. Thomas flings himself out of Maven's body as soon as they reach the closet door, ejected from the driver's seat.