FINAL GATE (#3 GHOST PORTAL series)

EIGHTEEN

TRIGGER WARNING — mentions of suicide

"I'll let you in," said Jessamine, trying her best not to snarl. "But one wrong move, one attempt to control me, to dominate my thoughts, to turn me vicious as before, and I'll find some means to kill myself. I'll go as far as possible to make myself inaccessible to you. Those tree branches? They're sharp, and I can definitely slice my throat with them. Or my veins. Don't think I don't know how."

Not that she wanted to become one of the monsters that had possessed her, but Jessamine knew it was a decent enough threat to them now that they wanted to possess her again. They needed her? Fine; but it'd be on her terms.

They accepted those terms, and within seconds, several demons had surrounded her, getting ready for her.

When they entered her, it felt... weird. Not as ominous and plaguing as it had when they'd shot into her body before, taking over every empty space, filling every cavity with their darkness. Cramping up inside her organs and capturing her mind as their own. No, this time, it was a swifter process, with less of a bitter aftertaste. They got in, they settled where they were needed—muscles, limbs, mostly—and were quiet.

Quiet. No controlling her conscience, no deciding how she'd use her fingers, her feet, how she'd wave her arms, where she'd focus her gaze. No demanding that she bare her teeth and sink them into flesh. Not a single request for her to slurp up blood. And no voices intermingling, one louder than the next, giving her a massive migraine.

"We told you," said one of the demons—one she didn't recall having possessed her the first time around. "We're not here to do damage; it's a time for repairs. And we, demons, are not always destructive."

"We'll only tell you where to go, and which power to use at which time," said another, with a nearly docile lilt to its words. "This is too important to take advantage of. Our goals... those are postponed, considering the chaos around us. We're not idiots."

No, the demons were far from stupid, Jessamine knew that. But they were also sly creatures, hiding their end-game until the time was right. They might not have felt destructive then, but they would later. It was in their nature. And she intended to expel them from her before they had a chance to take her over; she wouldn't be the unwilling participant in their carnage again. Ever.

Landon's possession had gone smoothly, too, but he fidgeted often, wincing at the sensation of having something inside him. As used to the demons as he was, they still irked him, and he'd turned slightly green when they'd started filtering into his bloodstream. The nausea seemingly passed, but he'd never be comfortable having a demon hanging out in his gut—and Jessamine didn't blame him.

She hated how used to the sensation she was. How strangely normal it felt to have someone, something swirling about in her brain. How their powers were familiar, taking up spaces they had before, but without invading her. This time, she appreciated that that something had no say in her thoughts, her movements.

They're only there to instruct, to help. They're not me.

She and Landon floated through the wasteland. The demons' possession inferred most of their powers on their captives, and so Jessamine and Landon were able to fly. For a split second, she'd hoped to use the ability to move away from the oncoming menace—the alternating black and orange clouds, the streaks of neon yellow lightning tearing through the sky, the ominous black figures racing down to the ground, shaking the surface as they landed. But the demons wanted her close, as close as possible, and kept her body facing in the direction they needed her to go.

"We have to push these things back, herd them towards their portals," said one demon, reacting to Jessamine's fear of getting near the shit-storm of negative energy hurdling at them at full speed.