<a class="postlink" href="http://i811.photobucket.com/albums/zz39/Shdowcat_ak/1fd50f5c-52cb-4b21-84ed-536f69e39fd2_zps1bcf8302.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/>Aryn Planwalker<br/>22<br/>Every exorcist has a ritual he or she performs to get into the trance state. Some are really elaborate, with chants and special and incense--the works. Hers is disarmingly simple. She place vanilla scented candles all around the room, then turn off all the lights. Then she stand over the demon-possessed body with her hands about six inches above it and just close her eyes.<br/><br/>Usually, She already starting to slip into the trance after my first deep breath. Today, she was having a harder time. Jenkins had taken to fidgeting with his ID badge. The noise was slight, but annoying. And she could hear Mrs. Walkerâ€™s persistent sniffles. She imagined the table sliding into the oven with little Lisa Walker on it. She imagined hearing her screams.<br/><br/>She took another deep, vanilla-scented breath and reminded herself that, in these enlightened times, theyâ€™d anesthetize her before sliding her into the oven--there would be no screams. But that didn't make the image any more bearable.<br/><br/>The pressure was like nothing sheâ€™d ever felt before, and something akin to panic stirred.<br/><br/>Then, Lisa Walker spoke.<br/><br/>â€œWhatâ€™s happening?â€ she asked in a quivering little-girl voice. â€œMommy?â€<br/><br/>It broke what little concentration she had, and her eyes popped open. She met the gaze of a pair of red-rimmed eyes of cornflower blue. So innocent-looking. But her words and her voice were so patently pathetic, so manipulative, that they gave me pause. So she watched closely, and something stirred behind those eyes. Something not so innocent. And she knew that they were right, that there was a demon inside this little girl. A demon who had no qualms about using the body of a child like a disposable plastic cup. When it found a more suitable host, it would slither out of her body, not caring that it might leave her dead or brain-damaged.<br/><br/>She gave the demon a nasty smile. â€œFatal error,â€ she told it in a low whisper that she hoped to God the parents didn't hear. â€œYou should have kept your mouth shut.â€<br/><br/>The cupidâ€™s bow mouth widened. she closed my eyes. And the trance took me immediately, fueled by her anger. Distantly, she was aware of that little-girl voice making pathetic noises, pleading with me and with its mommy, but she was too far gone to hear the words.<br/><br/>In her trance, she see with my otherworldly eyes. Everything looks different. Simpler. she canâ€™t see things. All she see are the living, and she see them as patches of primary colors. People show up as blue in her otherworldly vision. Jenkins was a dark, solid blue, like a person at rest. If he felt any strong emotions about this whole procedure, she couldn't sense it. The parents, on the other hand, were a mess, their auras roiling with every shade of blue imaginable.<br/><br/>But on the table under my hands, the aura glowed blood red. A demon aura, so overwhelming there was no sign of human blue beneath it. The aura squirmed, and she realized that the body was struggling against the restraints. The demon saw its destruction coming and was making a last-ditch effort to escape. she hoped they hadn't gotten squeamish when theyâ€™d secured the restraints. The supernatural strength of some demons is enough to bend steel, but even an inexperienced staff would know that.<br/><br/>She heard the distinctive sound of groaning metal. Alarm trickled down my back. This thing was strong. And desperate. Behind me, someone cried out. The yellow tint of fear blended with the blue of their auras to make the humans look almost green.<br/><br/>Just like everyone has their own ritual to get into the trance, everyone has their own mental image they use as a metaphor for casting out a demon. Mine is wind.<br/><br/>She imagined a gust of hurricane force wind hitting that red aura. If it had been your average, run-of-the-mill demon, that one blast would have been enough. But this fucker was tough. The aura didn't waver, and she heard an echo of laughter ringing in her ears.<br/><br/>There were more cries of distress from the humans, and again metal groaned as the demon struggled. Her  heart pounded in my throat, and fear almost stole her concentration.<br/><br/>None of the three demons sheâ€™d failed to exorcize had come close to escaping, thankfully. She may be the scourge of demon-kind, but she do not want to be trapped in a room with a loose, angry demon in need of a new host.<br/><br/>The fear radiating from Jenkins and the Walkers pounded against her concentration, worse than her own fear, because there were three of them feeding each othersâ€™ panic. she prayed Jenkins wouldn't do anything really stupid, like open the door to take himself out of harmâ€™s way.<br/><br/>As soon as she thought it, though, it happened. Her concentration snapped completely, and she was out of the trance in time to see Jenkins shove the Walkers out the open door before he dove out himself.<br/><br/>At least he had the good sense to swing the door shut behind him. She really didn't want to see what would happen if the demon got loose in the containment center halls with all those inexperienced armed guards wandering around.<br/><br/>Of course, she really didn't want to be trapped alone in a room with a powerful, pissed-off demon either.<br/><br/>She looked at the table, and my stuttered at what she saw.<br/><br/>Steel restraints bolted to the table held Lisaâ€™s thin arms and legs down, and there was another steel restraint around her waist. Sheâ€™d pulled so hard on those restraints that the table had buckled beneath them, though so far she hadn't managed to break free. Blood poured from her wrists and ankles--the demon didn't much care what happened to this poor little body. It just wanted out. It pulled Lisaâ€™s lips back in a feral snarl. The metal groaned again.<br/><br/>Shit.<br/><br/>She drew in a deep, quavering breath and forced myself to close my eyes. If she gave it enough time, this thing was going to free itself. And she was going to become an unwilling host to an illegal demon myself.<br/><br/>No pressure.<br/><br/>Sweat trickled down the small of my back. she tried to calm myself. Her life depended on it.<br/><br/>She slipped back into the trance more easily than sheâ€™d expected. Amazing what desperation will do for you. Once again, she hit that demon aura with a blast of wind. It wavered for a moment, then settled firmly back in place.<br/><br/>The metal didn't groan now so much as scream. The temptation to open her eyes and see what progress the thing was making was almost unbearable, but she resisted.<br/><br/>A small, delicate hand clapped onto her arm with a bone-crushing grip. But her hand was over Aryn sweater, no skin-to-skin contact.<br/><br/>She stifled a scream and sent another blast of wind at the aura. Somehow, she managed to stay entranced, even with a demon squeezing her arm so brutally sheâ€™d wear bruises for days even if it didn't break anything.<br/><br/>Her breath burned in and out of her lungs and her heart slammed against my chest. she was so scared she could taste it, but if she let the fear win, she was demon-chow.<br/><br/>she gathered her power into herself, concentrating on drawing every ounce of her strength into her center for one last try. There was another scream of tortured metal, and a second small hand grabbed her.<br/><br/>She almost panicked and let her next blast loose at that moment, but she knew she had only one more chance. If she didn't throw enough power against the demon, she was toast. So she fought her instincts and held herself together a few seconds more.<br/><br/>The demonâ€™s fingers tore through the fabric of her sweater, and that little demonic hand pressed against the skin of her forearm.<br/><br/>She screamed louder than sheâ€™d ever screamed in her life, overwhelmed by terror, horror, revulsion. Her worst nightmare come true. A demon forcing itself into her body, taking her over, destroying everything she was without actually killing me . . .<br/><br/>she shoved her gathered power at it, knowing it was already too late--demons can transfer from one host to another instantly. The millisecond it touched me, she was gone.<br/><br/>Except, she wasnâ€™t.<br/><br/>That red, red aura crept up her arm from the demonâ€™s hand, and then withdrew, half a heartbeat before her power hit it.<br/><br/>sheâ€™d thrown everything she had into that blast. The aura shattered into a million tiny pinpricks of color; then it was gone.<br/><br/>she opened my eyes, hardly believing my good fortune, hardly believing she was still myself.<br/><br/>she wobbled on her feet. The floor bucked under her. she felt herself falling in slow motion but couldn't even get her hands under her to cushion the fall. Her head hit that cold tile floor, and she was out.