Desolation //Imp Tweek x Pastor Craig //

Disdain.

Despite his constant company from family and friends, every passing hour felt like a lifetime for the pastor. The ticking minutes just seemed that much longer when your body was confined to a bed with next to no entertainment. The television set that hung in the corner of the room seemed stuck on the same channel, his mobile was no where to be seen and the only book hanging about was a battered old copy of the bible from the hospitals bed side table. And he had no intentions of reading that today.

During these hours, he was visited briefly by his nearest friends, Clyde and Tolkien. Tolkien had brought along his tablet too, enabling a line to Craig's friend Jimmy who was currently working in New York. Despite the circumstances, it was pleasant but short lived. Clyde, who's personality hadn't really changed since elementary school, spent his interaction with Craig between sobs and tears.

'I'm still alive, dumbass.'

'I knooow... But what if you diiiiieeed?! What if... if no one found yoooou?! I can't believe you nearly diiiieed, Craaaaiig...'

Clearly, over several minutes, Clyde's wailing had gotten to the nurses so they stepped in and asked for them all to leave for the day.

His sister had of course returned with some of his belongings (he did thank god for her safe return, he was still uncertain if that voice in his head was in fact real...). Tricia had consumed much of the time gossiping, especially about the blond, while perched on the side of his bed.

'Why don't you take him out for dinner?' Her voice cooed as she carefully placed the eared hat upon her brothers head, being extremely diligent not to upset the bandaging.

A deep frown formed upon Craig's face, his eyes falling to the bed in an attempt to avoid his sisters ditsy amused expression. 'No.' Plain. Simple.

'It's just to say thank you.' She hummed.

'Trish... I know what you're trying to achieve, we've been down this road before...' the pastor chewed on his lips, still avoiding his sisters glance.

'Nothing! Nothing! It's just to show you're appreciation.' She held her hands up in defence. Still, a grin remained on her face. 'But... If there was a spark-'

'Trish!' Craig's distain look finally met his sisters merry one. 'It's not possible, it's not allowed and it won't happen.'

'Why... Because some crumby old book says so? Because dad says so?' He hands found the tattered bible on the side and began to flick through it's pages. 'When the fuck has Craig Tucker ever done anything he's told? You honestly don't believe all this bullshit, do you?' She threw the book back down with an exasperated sigh. She wasn't exactly certain what had changed in her brothers life to send him down this road. 'Praying the gay away doesn't-'

'Tricia. That's enough.' Craig interjected with a growl. His jaw now clenched.

'-you were so happy in college-'

'Stop it. I'm happy now. I'm fine.'

'Pfft...' Blowing air past her lips. She didn't believe him of course, the last few months her brother had been so desolate, she found his facade so easy to read - just everyone around them were so naive. 'You should get some sleep, we'll come check in on you in the morning - okay?'

Craig simply gave a nod. Refusing to look back at his sister.

'See you tomorrow.'

...

It was dark.

Why was it so dark?

Where was he? Why couldn't he move?

A figure knelt before the churches alter. The air was bitter, the room dimly lit by candle light. Their legs were numbed against the uneven, concrete floor and hands pressed together in tight prayer at their chest. Motionless. Unsettling.

Their wrists were locked into position, held there by the cord of their own rosary. The prayer beads encompassed the ground around were this figure knelt, rolling back and forth in the breeze that sailed around them.

They couldn't speak. They couldn't scream. Their jaw was locked against their will. Eyes were bound by blackened cloth, a make shift blindfold that kept the figure in suspense.

From the shadowy corners came forth another figure. Taller. Winged. Horned. Stooping before the knelt being. A hand reaches for the blindfold, talons etching the top of cheek bones as it pulls the cloth away.

Green eyes met with burning embers.

The Pastor and the Imp.

Dropping the cloth at its cloven hooves, the clawed hand found Craig's face once more - fingers grasping his lower jaw and chin, forcing his mouth to gape. He didn't fight it, simply accepted his fate.

Blond locks loomed over the others face. Their gaze refusing to break. The imp leaned closer to the pastor before it's mouth widened and revealed its cruel, sharpened teeth.

Thickened, blackened blood seeped from its thin, pale lips - dripping into the pastors widened mouth. It burnt, it choked him. More and more came. The pastors eyes rolled backwards to reveal white, the imp now gripping him close. Giving his body over to the demon. Their entity become whole...

...

An exasperated gasp left Craig's throat as his body immediately shot up in his bed. His mind snapping back to reality. It was a dream... Just a nightmare.

'Fuck!' He gasped, his arm quickly cradling his side in agony due to the force of his actions. 'What the fuck... what in gods name was that..?'

The other palm went to check his face, running over it and searching for any signs he wasn't imagining what he had just witnessed. Nothing. Clean.

Calming, his body slumped against the mattress - his skin began to feel clammy.

'He's the fucking devil...' He was tainted by it and he let that thing into his home, near his sister, his family.
What did it want with him? Why did it keep him alive for starters? A million questions pondered his mind.

'Uhh... To serve you, dumbass.'  Jeered Tweeks jittered voice within the confines of the pastors head.

Someone should have hit the buzzer for cardiac arrest at this point...

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