A choked gasp rattled through the mans chest, his nails digging into the dirt as he writhed in pain, his nail beds bloody and broken as he tried his best to hold on to reality. He couldn't fight it- he'd let him in too many times, gave him too much power over himself. Even now he was surprised he held on this long but it was only a matter of time. He couldn't let this happen- not like this. Not now.<br/><br/>Everyone had been right. They were all right about the spirit. The<i>demon</i>. They said to be careful, to exercise caution with such a powerful being willing to offer up so much knowledge so freely. He had been a fool- He should have listened!<br/><br/>A chuckle echoed through his head, a soft and familiar voice lacing it's self through his thoughts like needle through a thread, "Mortals are always so predictable..." It laughed, clearly amused by it's hosts struggles. The man cried out in pain, wracked with the effort of keeping himself intact, struggling like a bird pinned under a cat. He let out a scream as he felt the barrier in his mind break that was abruptly cut short. He stilled.<br/><br/>"Now get up and do what I've been grooming you to do since we met." The voice commanded, and like a decrepit puppet the man jerked up, his limbs moving against his will. He was inside. He could feel him- feel<i>it</i>in his body. He was being<i>possessed</i>and there was nothing he could do about it. He was merely looking through the eyes of a vessel that no longer belonged to him. Never before had he felt so betrayed and helpless.<br/><br/>He trudged through the room, throwing open a door and for a moment he pushed against the demon, swaying. He heard a voice...his wife. Her voice was panicked but he couldn't make out the words, it was like she was speaking to him underwater. He took a step forward, advancing on the woman. Oh god no. No. No. No. He couldn't let the demon hurt them- not his family. Anything but that!<br/><br/>"I'll make it quick for her...just for you<i>friend</i>." The demon's voice gurgled through his throat. It sounded wrong. Warped. The woman in front of him gave a scream, cowering before the image of her husband as the magic was wrenched from his body...<br/><br/>Red. Blood. Fire. Bodies. There was so much. He was covered in it; dripping and he was laughing- he couldn't remember why but all he knew is he felt exhilarated. There was so much fire around him. He'd toppled everything to the ground and even as the fire burnt the mortal flesh he laughed for the sake of feeling alive. He marched forward, step by step breeding destruction as the magic flowed freely from his finger tips. But something was wrong...The mortal still stirred. Still fought.<br/><br/>"How do you still have any will..." He whispered as he was dropped to his knees, a dagger plunged firmly in his gut with the force of his own two hands. He began mumbling words. A spell; one the demon fought to stop.<br/><br/>"I know you're tricks! I know everything about you!" The demon screeched, the mortal still speaking his enchantments. The blood oozing from his body slithered across the ground, snaking it's way over the dirt and forming ancient lines and shapes. He was in the middle of a circle now, the demon desperately fighting to now be rid of the mortal body, even willing to tear it apart at this point. The man continued to bleed but his resolve was set.<br/><br/>He would end this. He would be this demon's prison. The man keeled over, blood dripping from his lips as the demon screamed in panic. A laugh bubbled from the mortal's lips, bitter and full of hate as the demon tried to scramble it's way out of the hole it had dug it's self in.<br/><br/>"So long as my kin inhabit this land...you will meet your downfall....demon..." He gasped, a blue fire razing it's self around his body.<br/><br/><i>Even in death he could still hear their screams.<br/>
</i><br/><div style="text-align: center">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​</div><br/>Damon woke with a start, his heart beating in his chest and with his hand clutched to his stomach. He could smell smoke and taste copper in his mouth and for a moment he panicked, bolting from bed and rushing out of his door, looking around for the source of the smell. But the it faded, the taste of old pennies still faintly on his tongue as he stood in his kitchen, confused.<br/><br/>Had he simply been dreaming? He remembered fire but the more he tried to grasp at the memory of the dream the further it ran away from him, like trying to grab at smoke. He sighed, scratching his shaggy hair as he stood in his boxers, contemplating what on earth it could have been. Damon eventually gave up, trudging back to his room to find himself some clothes and get the day started.<br/><br/>He had always had dreams that left him panting and shaking; night terrors were a common occurrence, but something about this one felt new. It gave him a bad feeling, one that didn't sit well with him. Damon frowned as he looked at himself in the mirror, scratching his chin in contemplation. The shave or not to shave...<br/><br/>The man wasn't unattractive by any means; he was of averedge height with dark hair. Although, the one thing that set him a little apart from everyone else in his community, besides the affinity for magic, was the discoloration of his eyes. While his right eye was a rich brown color the left was a bright and piercing blue.  He'd never been too self conscience about it but it wasn't uncommon that he'd get comments from strangers. Aside from that he had a layer of muscle, indicative of his familiarity with hard labor and arms that were littered with a slew of tattoos. Some were magical in origin. Ones that helped him channel his own magic or warp elements but mixed in with all the other art work one could hardly tell unless they knew what to look for. He was a jack of all trades in his town, although not you're typical handy man. He helped with yard work and ran a little supply shop with his own garden to take care of, sure, but he was also the town "guardian." The one everyone went to when something went wrong with other beings that weren't human. From pesky little gnomes in peoples gardens to demon possessions and curses Damon had grown up in a household that the town looked up to.<br/><br/>Unfortunately he was alone now. The only one left to help everyone- it was by a sense of obligation he didn't leave. The man rattled over in his head what he needed to do today; weed the garden, repaint the shop sign...oh. And meet the new tenants he was getting today. He'd almost forgotten. A man and his daughter. The thought to rent out a portion of his house had seemed a bit unappealing at first but things were getting tough. Money was becoming a problem and with his house being so big it seemed like the easiest solution. Hell, his own shop was attached to the damn thing, a pole sticking out of the section with a pair of empty chains. While Victorian in influence it was clear it had been worked on and added to many times. He's have to delay opening the shop today but he supposed it wasn't that big of a deal.<br/><br/>After going through his morning routine he stepped out on his porch, sipping his coffee and enjoying the light breeze. Summer was coming to end, he could see it in the large oak tree that stood out on his front lawn. The leaves were just starting to turn from green to yellow, the wind getting colder and the days getting shorter. The tiny town of Clearmont was nestled in the foot of the mountains and as such they were always the ones to get snow first. It was small, but it was also a melting pot of human and supernatural interaction. Strange things always happened here. Sometimes it would go unnoticed. Other times...not so much. But despite the large amount of cryptic beings inhabiting the place with humans thrown into the mix there was an unsteady harmony in it all. As a result Damon had to get really good at providing Glamour items to the general population. Mostly hybrids or Vampires and werewolves with less subtle features.<br/><br/>Damon decided to work on things around the house for the day, awaiting the arrival of his new tenants while taking care of the Garden and double checking to see that their section of the house was up to standard. He was working on the sign for his shop in the open garage when they finally made it, paint cans on the work bench and a ratty, old T-shirt on Damon as he worked on it. He grabbed a rag, rubbing some white paint off his hand as he waited for the duo, not sure what to expect. From what he understood they were human so he had to be careful around them...<br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="342" data-username="@TheWhiteQueen" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/342/">@TheWhiteQueen</a>