The Chilling Adventures of Steve Rogers: Book One (Magical Hydra Horror AU)

Sixty-Six

Bucky figured that this was about as out-of-body as he was going to get with a dybbuk possessing him. And even then, he wasn't as far away as he would've liked. Especially not with the malicious spirit using his body to attack one of his best friends, Sam. Currently, his legs were straddling Sam's muscular thighs while he bashed his face in.

If it was possible for Bucky to look through his fingers, he would. It would've been better than feeling as though his eyelids were nailed open as he was forced to watch the blood splatter across Sam's face like a Jackson Pollock painting.

Honestly, anything would've been better than this. Even if the roles were reversed and Bucky was the one getting beat from within an inch of his life.

Anything would've been better than this.

Bucky couldn't even fight against the entity. It was too powerful. But he couldn't just sit there and do nothing. So, Bucky attempted to wiggle his toes. Just hoping to feel something that was his being controlled by himself. For a moment, Bucky was positive that he had moved his toes.

Working even harder, Bucky tapped his foot against the ground. Only, his hands were doing the most harm, and he didn't have control over them. His hands were being completely controlled by the dybbuk. And the dybbuk was using Bucky's hands exactly how he wanted to. To harm Sam.

Out of his control, Bucky's fingers wrapped around the thick girth of Sam's neck, and closed. Squeezing so tightly, that a bloodied and beaten Sam writhed and scratched at Bucky's hands in hopes of getting him to stop. However, the more Sam fought, the tighter Bucky held.

"Please," Bucky begged, even though his mouth didn't move.

Of course, that only spurred the dybbuk more. A frightening laugh tore from Bucky's mouth. Growing hysterical as an audible crack could be heard, causing Sam's eyes going wide in fear as he struggled even more.

Sam's blunt nails dug into Bucky's hands, hoping that would get them off his neck. Hoping to get a breath in. Unfortunately, nothing was working. If anything, it made Bucky's grip more secure, even though Sam was fighting for his chance.

Bucky's body leaned forward, and using Bucky's voice, the dybbuk informed right in Sam's ear, "If I had a knife, I'd slit your throat and bathe in your blood."

Christ on a cracker, Bucky thought as his body moved back. Feeling the corners of his lips quirk up into a wicked grin that frightened Sam. Bucky could see in his eyes that he was scared.

Fighting even more in the prison of his body, Bucky's fingers wiggled. Yes! Bucky rejoiced and concentrated even more. But he wasn't able to do anything further. The most that happened was the way his muscles shook under his skin as the dybbuk fought against Bucky's control.

Then, Sam stopped moving under him.

No, Bucky denied, fighting his own body. Bucky's chest heaved aggressively as his breaths came as pants. He continued sitting on Sam, but removed his hands. And although Bucky tried to move himself off, so he could perform CPR on one of his best friend's, he wasn't able to. Bucky couldn't even close his own eyes to stop from staring down at his lifeless friend. The dybbuk wouldn't let him, and forced his eyelids up. The only thing that Bucky could do was cry.

While tears fell down his face, the dybbuk grew bored. And Bucky knew that was a bad sign. Especially when his body turned without his control and looked over at Sharon. Just like he and Sam had been, she was bound to an old chair. Something that reminded Bucky of a dentist chair.

With that single thought, spurred the dybbuk onto his next torture. Wicked grin, the entity used Bucky's hands to pry Sharon's mouth open. Sharon, like the fighter she was, tried her hardest to fight back the best that she could while still being restrained.

Biting at Bucky's hands only made the demon laugh though, and Bucky feared what he'd do in retaliation. Sure enough, his hands were used against his will to pull at one of Sharon's back molars. Using strength that Bucky didn't know his body had, the dybbuk managed to remove the tooth entirely.

Bucky was sure that the sounds of Sharon's screams of agony would haunt him for the rest of his life. The way that her body twitched in her suffering would forever be ingrained on the back of his retina. Just like the warmth of her blood and the rusty smell.

As Bucky's body moved towards his mom, Bucky sobbed. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He didn't want to kill Sam. He didn't want to torture Sharon. And he sure as hell didn't want to hurt his mom.

Especially not when she pleaded, "James Buchanan Barnes, remember who you are."

Bucky's lower lip quivered. For a moment, Bucky was in control of his body. Quickly, Bucky stumbled over to Winifred, tripping over his own feet and tumbling into her chair. With shaky hands he started to undo the thick leather straps holding her in place.

Winifred pulled Bucky into a hug. However, that was precisely when the dybbuk took over and started strangling her. At least the dybbuk was nice enough to let Bucky apologize. Tears streaming over his high cheekbones as he sobbed, "I'm so sorry, mom."

"I... know... baby..." Winifred conceded in between her gasps of breath.

"I'm sor--"

"Buck!" A deep familiar voice called out.

Bucky knew immediately who it belonged to. He tried to reply, "Teddy," but the dybbuk paid him no attention.

Then, the voice he wanted to fall asleep to forever, corrected, "Azazel."

At that, the dybbuk whirled around so quickly that Bucky felt sick. Fearing for what the dybbuk, Azazel, would do to Steve, Bucky tried to close his eyes. Hoping that if he could keep Azazel from seeing Steve, he could protect him. But, just like before, his eyelids were forced open. And Bucky couldn't believe what his eyes saw.

There, towering beside Teddy, was Steve. Such a different Steve that Bucky was sure he was mistaking the tall, muscular boy. But Bucky would recognize those sky blue eyes anywhere. Even if he hardly recognized anything else.

Crossing the short distance between them, Azazel reached up and cupped Steve's newly chiseled jaw. Companionably, Azazel patted Steve's cheek and pinched the flawless skin there, while Bucky could only stare at him.

"You'll make us all so proud," Azazel praised.

Steve's eyes narrowed and he grabbed Bucky's wrist. Even with the dybbuk controlling his body, Bucky shivered just from Steve's warm hand on him. Sure, he wasn't used to this new packaging, but Bucky was sure that it was the same boy that he loved on the inside.

Not moving his gaze from Bucky, Steve ordered, "Teddy. The box."

Inside of Bucky, two feelings coincided. Relief from Bucky, and fear from Azazel. It was such a shift that Bucky regained some of his control over his own body and he tearfully defended himself, "I didn't mean to do it. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean --"

"Shh," Steve soothed, using his free hand to wipe the tears flowing from Bucky's eyes, "I know. It's gonna be okay. I promise."

And if Steve promised something, it was going to happen. That had always been an everlasting truth in Bucky's world. Steve promised that things were going to be okay, so things were going to be okay.

Then, Steve pressed a coin to Bucky's forehead. Oddly, it burned. It burned a lot. Such a searing heat that a tormented howl ripped through Bucky's frame. Knowing that it wasn't from him, it was from the dybbuk. In a language that Bucky couldn't decipher, Steve mumbled in a voice low enough that only he could hear, but it wasn't for him. It was for the dybbuk. And the dybbuk was fighting back.

The more that Azazel fought, the more Steve did too. Dropping Bucky's wrist, Steve pressed another coin to the back of Bucky's neck. The pain became so much that Bucky slipped away. Only vaguely aware of a loud bang of wine cabinet doors being slammed shut and strong arms catching him before he hit the ground.