Short Stories for the Damned and Bored

01🌟

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✍You're possessed by a demon. You quickly realize he's never done this before.
January 19, 2022; Wednesday; 1:11am.

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Being stupid enough to believe that I was possessed by a demon was one thing, and being stupid enough to believe that the demon doesn't know how to make me walk was another.

"How do you—what are these?" He looked at my painted toes that wiggled(in his attempt to wiggle them and get up at the same time), "They're looking at me."

I painted eyes on them before I went to bed.

"You what eyes on them? Why would you want more eyes? Are you dumb enough not to know that you really only need two?"

...

"Hey. Help me up."

You're in control. You do it.

"Ho ho—you must be pretty stupid to tell me to do it when you can clearly see—WAIT. Can you? Where the fuck even are you?" He looked around as he questioned out loud while my little brother—who stood at the door with a hand on the knob—looked at my now demon possessed body in confusion. His face crumpling.

"Which one?"

The big one.

"The big one?"

"Honey, what are you doing? Get back to bed—"

The smaller one is my dad.

He burst into a hysterics. My arms now wiggling in an uncomfortable manner like that balloon man you see outside of grocery stores as he attempts to react to whatever the laughter is doing to my lungs and my body. He frowns quick, crouching forward while heavily breathing that it surprises me how my body could possibly be flexible enough to bend ninety degrees with straightened legs.

I realized in that moment that he's probably never done this before.

"The crotch." He screamed, "It stings!" Without showing any signs of getting up to stop the stinging of the years of unexercised legs.

My little brother leans to my father in a whisper, "I think we should go. She's having her monthly bloody ritual." And emphasized quite loudly, looking at my body which was still bend ninety-degrees to the floor with spread legs and arms, "I CAN TELL."

My dad sighs, "Well, I'm just gonna assume you're fine."

I'm not. But looking at myself in pain on the floor is quite something.

"This is pain?" Said the demon as he finally sits up, my eyes red. "Neat."

"Honey, are you sure you're fine?"

...Have you blinked?

"No. What's that?"

"Oh, then is there a problem?"

Who are you answering here???

"You."

My dad leans back, hurt, "Oh."

The demon winks. Trying, probably, to blink the other eye—oh now he's winking in turns. Great.

"What the fuck is your deal?"

...Could you just—

"Sorry, hun."

"What?"

—SHUT UP?

"Oh, um...I said sor—"

"You shut up. I'm trying to figure things out here!"

My dad silenced. Even more hurt looking than earlier.

"She looks normal to me. I'm going." And my brother left. His face stuck to the phone as he heads back to his room.

My dad did something similar before shutting the door, "You do you, honey. I'll just...leave you to your business."

I could hear him walking away, muttering to himself that he's been preparing for my puberty to come and it's happened and now he has to accept whatever I am.

The demon succeeds in standing. He cheers, hands still wobbling to the side. His actions making me look like that of a child stuck in a teenager's body—

"Hey! I am NOT a fucking child!" He shrieks, "So, how do I get a knife?"

You should probably learn how to walk—I say as I witness him take a step and fall flat to my face with a groan. He did not even dodge to save my nose—I could hear the bone crack when he hit the floor.

The sound making my soul wince as I watch him roll over the floor like a log and covering blood on my carpet.

Now's probably not a good time to fight to get my body back.

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