The king of everything

Chapter sixteen- The demon's games

The demon wasn't satisfied with just haunting me—it wanted to break me from the inside out. The mind games started small, subtle enough that at first I thought I was imagining things. Objects in the room would move ever so slightly. I'd place my notebook on the desk, and when I turned back, it would be on the bed. Sam would ask me a question, but I'd hear someone else's voice answering in my head. And the whispering—it never stopped.

It had figured out how to torment me in ways I couldn't explain to Sam or Hope. Every night, as I drifted off to sleep, it would slip into my dreams, twisting them into nightmares so real that I woke up drenched in sweat. But worse than the nightmares were the waking moments when I wasn't sure what was real anymore. I'd catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of my eye—shadows that flickered and darted away as soon as I turned to look. Faces in mirrors that weren't mine. The demon was tightening its grip, and it had a new plan.

It wanted Sam.

One evening, we sat in the dorm room, Sam buried in his books, trying to study for an upcoming test. I stared at the page of my textbook, but the words blurred together. My mind felt heavy, weighed down by the oppressive presence I couldn't shake. The demon's influence was stronger today—its voice louder, more insistent. I could feel it prowling in the corners of my mind, whispering terrible things.

*Kill him.* The voice was sharp and cold, like steel against bone.

I flinched, the sound so clear it was as if someone had spoken directly into my ear. My head snapped up, my heart pounding in my chest, but Sam was oblivious. He scribbled notes in the margin of his book, his focus completely elsewhere.

I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. I would never hurt Sam. He was my best friend. He'd stuck by me when no one else would. But the voice... it didn't care. It was relentless.

*He's the next target. You know it. You can't stop it. He's weak. You're stronger.*

I pressed my palms against my temples, the pressure in my skull building. "Shut up," I muttered under my breath, desperate to silence the voice.

"You say something?" Sam asked, glancing up from his book, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me.

I forced a smile, though it felt like a mask. "Just thinking out loud."

Sam gave me a curious look but didn't press the issue. He returned to his notes, but my heart kept racing. The demon's words echoed in my head, louder now, like a drumbeat.

*He's in your way. You can end this. Just one quick move. One moment of weakness. Do it.*

My breath came in short, shallow bursts. The demon was pushing harder, testing my limits. I stood up abruptly, pacing across the room. I needed to clear my head, to drown out the voice, but it wouldn't stop. It was relentless, clawing at the edges of my sanity.

"Are you okay?" Sam's voice broke through the haze.

I stopped mid-step, staring at him. His face was filled with concern, but all I could hear was the demon's voice whispering, twisting, turning his words into something darker.

*He's the reason you're suffering. End it.*

The image flashed through my mind—me, standing over Sam's body, blood pooling on the floor. The thought was so vivid, so real, that I nearly stumbled back in horror. I blinked, shaking my head violently.

"No," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I won't do it."

Sam stood up now, his brow furrowed. "Aaron, what's going on? You're scaring me, man."

I backed away from him, panic rising in my chest. "I... I can't... It's trying to make me..."

Sam took a cautious step toward me, but I could see the unease in his eyes. "What's trying to make you do what?"

I couldn't find the words. How could I explain that the demon was using me, trying to turn me against him? That it wanted to turn my hands into weapons, to make me its pawn in its sick game?

Suddenly, the lights flickered, and the air in the room grew heavy, thick with something malevolent. A low, guttural laugh echoed in my head, and I knew the demon was watching, enjoying this. It was feeding on my fear, my confusion, growing stronger with every second that passed.

*Do it. You'll be free. Just one move.*

I gripped the edge of the desk so hard my knuckles turned white. My body trembled, muscles tense as if they were no longer my own. The urge to lash out at Sam was overwhelming, like a wave of darkness trying to pull me under. I could feel my control slipping, the demon's influence seeping into my very thoughts.

But somewhere deep inside, a part of me fought back.

"Sam... leave," I choked out, my voice strangled, barely audible. "Get out. Now."

Sam hesitated, confused. "What? Why?"

I couldn't explain it. If I tried, the demon might win. All I knew was that I needed to get him out of here before it made me do something unforgivable.

"Go!" I shouted, my voice filled with desperation. "Just go!"

Sam stared at me for a moment, torn between wanting to help and the fear of what was happening. But something in my eyes must have convinced him, because after a tense second, he grabbed his things and bolted for the door.

As soon as he left, the pressure in the room lifted ever so slightly, but the demon was still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, laughing.

*Coward,* it hissed. *You can't fight me forever. I'll make you do it. You'll watch him die by your hand.*

I collapsed onto the bed, my body shaking uncontrollably. The demon's voice still echoed in my head, taunting me, mocking me. It had come so close. Too close. I buried my face in my hands, the weight of it all crushing me.

I didn't know how long I could resist. The demon was stronger than I had ever imagined, and with each passing day, its grip on me tightened. It wasn't just trying to break me—it was trying to control me, to use me to take Sam's life.

And I didn't know if I had the strength to stop it.