My mother is a petite woman. Even at the tip of her toes, she doesn't reach my nose. That meant the being possessing my mother had to keep her arm raised up to maintain the knife on my throat.

This was good and bad news for me. It meant they would be tired faster and move the knife away from my neck or they could accidentally cut me when her shoulder starts to hurt. Making sure not to move too much, I raise my hands to show her I won't fight. The time to fight is definitely not when I have a knife to my throat.

The neck is a very delicate part of the body. There are two major arteries and the most vulnerable part of the spine. The cold of the steel makes shivers run up my spine. As fear threatens to overwhelm me I concentrate on the lessons I learned in my self-defense class. I went two days a week for the last fifteen years for this exact situation.

After my father passed away and my mother was busy with my brothers, I needed an outlet for all the energy inside of me. I couldn't go on hikes by myself so my mother found this learning center that offered judo and karate but the beginner practices were full and they wouldn't let me begin in any other. But the self-defense class had an opening and despite my age, my mother convinced the teacher to take me. And I never left.

My mind settles down and my priorities line themselves. First, I need to get the knife out of my neck. Then I'll have the freedom to make a move and keep them distracted enough that I can implement the plan the voice concocted.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked, gulping against the knife. Adrenaline is kicking my heartbeat into high gear, making it harder to stand still by the second. The urge to do something, anything, to get away is crushing. But the first rule of self-defense is ironically the same as rock climbing. Don't panic.

"Well, what do you think we discuss how you found out about me so fast?" They mocked me, applying pressure to the knife until a fine line of fire makes me squeezes my fists so I won't move over the pain of the cut.

The movies never show how having your neck cut even with a minor wound hurts like hell. Yet I can't move because if I do they may very well kill me. I can't let her do it. Not only because I don't want to die, but my mother could never live with herself if they had killed me.

If this person let her live.

When this thought passes through my mind, I realize that I am not the only one in danger here. If I don't somehow drive this person away from my mother's mind everyone in my family will probably die.

I calm myself and think everything through. The plan was for me to play along with their deception until I had reached the place inside of me that allowed me to use my power.

The way the voice explained was the simple fact of being so close to someone threatening me would force my subconscious to be in a perpetual state of fight or flight. On an average day being in this state would be terrible for my body, but this is literally a case of life or death. And this way my subconscious is over prepared to use my power to save me so accessing it will be easier.

I don't have to do anything fancy with it. I just need to concentrate on getting my mother back. If all of my thoughts are in this single intention the only other thing I have to do is release the energy inside of me with this intention, and my subconscious will do the rest.

It seems like a fragile plan. And to all intents and purposes, it is. But is also the only one we have. Because I have no idea how to free my mother otherwise.

"When she came back after answering the door, she felt different," I answered her. Feeling the blood slide down my neck. I gulp compulsively, making the entire area pulse with pain.

"That is impossible, idiot girl. Our possessions are perfect. There is no being on this earth who can sense us when we don't want them too." They snarled in my ear, increasing the pressure on the knife.

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"I'm telling you the truth." I yelped from the pain. Squeezing my fists harder, I continued to try to reason with her. "If you press the knife harder, you will kill me." I faltered, gulping again. I never had so much saliva in my mouth in my entire life. Just my luck, I guess.

"Well, look at the precious darling stating the obvious." They mocked me while easing the knife from my neck. "But you're right, and I still have a use for you. You're lucky. You get to live for a few more hours."

They remove the knife from my back, moving to press it against my back. Leading me to the armchair beside the window on the left side of the office. The entire room was filled with shelves groaning under the weight of so many books.

This was my father's office. And he loved books as much as I do.

When I am seated and they secure me with a rope, they took from a backpack on the ground they sit behind the desk to keep flipping through a couple of books. The brief moment when they opened the backpack I could see some books that were familiar to me. They are looking for something very specific in my father's study, but they won't find it here. He never kept anything precious here.

All of his valuable books went into vaults or with trusted people.

The lack of concern on their face makes my unease with this situation even more. They don't care that I know they are an imposter. They don't care that I see what they are doing. Which I don't know what it is. And the fact they don't care I know all of this drives home my imminent death.

"What are you looking for?" I asked, curious despite everything.

"Nothing that concerns you." They said nonchalantly. But then they look up and with a sinister smile continue talking. "Well, that's not true. This has everything to do with you. Too bad you will die before this can affect you. "

They chuckle before going back to their search. When they find nothing it makes them shut the book with a snap.

This can help me. While they are worried about finding whatever it is I will focus on bringing the energy buzzing inside of me to the edge of my skin.

The voice explained that I had to just concentrate on this feeling inside of myself until it was everything that I could see, taste, hear. Until it saturates my entire being.

Do you have this?

Not with you hovering. I can feel you inside my mind even when you don't speak you know.

Sorry. That's not really something that I can change. Or want to change it.

Go away.

The voice is a constant presence in my mind. So much that even though I only heard it the first time today, they've become familiar enough that I just ignore them.

That's harsh.

Do you want me to focus or not?

Of course, I want Lisa. But you already doing it. I'm just keeping you from overstretching yourself.

Only when they point out to me, I can feel the energy vibrating my skin. It isn't visible, but the energy is such a powerful presence that I feel like I should be vibrating.

"So are you still hearing the voice in your head?" They asked, still searching, not even looking up.

"Yes," I stated.

My direct answer startles them of their search. Looking up, they lean back on the chair and stare at my resolute face.

"How cute," They chuckle. "You think you can beat me. Don't you?"

I stare at her, keeping the energy at the edge of my fingertips. Making sure that I focus my thought on one thing only. Getting my mother back.

"Well then, try it." They said and opened their arms wide.

I stare in disbelief at the display.

"What?"

"Give it a shot. I won't do anything." They get up and saunter to the front of the chair I'm tied in. "Give me everything you've got. No repercussions."

This feels like a trap. I know it's a trap.

It's still the best shot that I'll have.

So I take it.

I release every bit of every that I had gathered with a single intention. Getting my mother back. I feel the energy wave burning out of me. All the lamps blow with the energy output and the room is plunged in darkness.

For a second I think it works.

Then a hand wraps itself around my throat, squeezing enough to make the previous dry cut bleed again.

"You had your shot." They whisper beside my ear, squeezing to the point where I can't get enough air. "What are you going to do now?"

They keep the pressure until I'm on the verge of passing out. When the black spots on my vision appear to merge with each other, they release me and I gulp down sweet air.

I pant while they pat my head hard enough for me to feel before going back behind the desk and keeping their search. It takes a few minutes, but I calm down my breathing enough to be able to think again.

This was the only plan that we had.

What the hell am I going to do now?

I agree with you. What the hell are we going to do now?

You don't have a plan B? I yelled as loud as I could in my own mind.

I'm sorry to inform you, darling. This was everything I had. Psychophagos were supposed to be in a weakened state when possessing someone. They shouldn't have been able to shield against your attack.

And yet they did. Now what?

Now, darling, we do the only thing we can. We improvise.