Kyle Saunders stared at his reflection and swore he could see the shadowy outline of his other half’s wings, black membrane stretching as they spread open behind him. The muscles between his shoulders twitched, itching for the chance to move, to make the image a reality. Just as his head ached where the shimmering after-image of black horns poked out from his temples. And in the full length mirror, he could see the ghost of a tail, barbed tip flicking above the carpet.
He wished the dark bags under his eyes were also an illusion. Four years earlier, when the demon, Ryka, had first taken up residence in his body, his appearances had been infrequent and always short-lived. In recent months, however, Ryka had been coming out nearly every night, and keeping control of Kyle’s body for hours on end. It was starting to take its toll.
Two or three hours of sleep wasn’t nearly enough, and waking with a hangover certainly wasn’t helping. It was no wonder that his students walked all over him. With a heavy sigh, he glanced at the stack of papers he still had to correct, realizing he would likely never be given a chance to even skim through them. Just one more thing for the tenth graders he taught to harass him about.
Sometimes, he was almost tempted to let Ryka out in class. Sprouting wings, horns, and a tail would doubtless stop the constant chatter, the spitballs, and all the other expressions of disrespect that he tolerated on a daily basis.
All you have to do is say my name, a gravelly voice whispered in his head. You know the words.
“It seems that now, all I have to do is think them,” Kyle replied. His lips curled into a wicked smile. It wasn’t one of his, either. “Again tonight? I have work to do.”
And I have drinking to do.
“If I get fired, I won’t be able to afford more beer.” There was no answer. Logic wasn’t always Ryka’s strong suit. The only thing that ever seemed to concern Ryka was his own pleasure. Kyle was just glad Ryka knew he shouldn’t leave the house when he was in control of Kyle’s body. Instead, Kyle found himself spending most of his paycheck on beer, liquor and cigarettes. Porn, at least, was free.
Knowing there was no way he could fight Ryka and win, Kyle decided to just give in. “Can I at least have tomorrow night? I have so much correcting to do.” Again, Ryka didn’t reply. Shaking his head, Kyle took off his glasses and set them on the table.
Get back in front of the mirror. Watching this never gets old.
“The transformation?”
No, stud, watching you take your clothes off.
“Please don’t call me ‘stud.’ And stop talking like that.” Verbal arguments were the only kind he could make. He could feel Ryka’s will overpowering his own. He took off his shirt, folded it, and left it on the arm of the couch. Blushing, he stood, helpless, in front of the mirror, awaiting his now nightly transformation. The one positive thing he could say about sharing his body with a demon was the vast improvement it had made in his overall appearance.
He had never considered himself unattractive, but Ryka was nothing if not vain, and had molded Kyle’s body into something he could be proud of. Kyle hadn’t been to the gym in years, but it looked like he worked out daily, every muscle perfectly defined. Which was incredible, given how much alcohol and junk food Ryka typically consumed. Kyle himself tried to still eat well, though the demon had assured him again and again that calories were calories, and would keep Kyle alive no matter how little - or how much - he ate.
His physique hadn’t been the only change. Before their meeting, Kyle had kept his hair short. Neat and out of his way. Now, his face was framed by glossy, wavy, black locks. Long enough to nearly reach his chin, but not long enough to be pulled back. He thought he looked more like a rock star than a history teacher.
Not to mention all the other things I’ve improved for you. Even without his glasses, Kyle could see his blush deepen in his reflection.
“What was wrong before?”
Not big enough.
“You’re the only one who uses it.”
I don’t have to be. I’m sure we could work something out.
“That’s enough,” Kyle scolded, flinching away from the mirror and the hungry gaze that stared back at him.
Fuck you, too. You can forget about tomorrow night.
Before Kyle could argue, he could feel his eyes roll back in his head. And he knew that, when they found what they were looking for inside him, and finally rolled back, they’d be as red as fresh-spilled blood.
Just as Ryka could see out through his eyes, Kyle could see out through Ryka’s. He wouldn’t admit it to the demon, but it was rather fascinating watching his body transform. With a grimace that revealed a mouthful of pointed teeth, Kyle/Ryka keeled forward. He growled as leathery wings erupted from between his shoulders. Panting, he looked up into the mirror in time to watch two small horns push out through the skin just above his temples.
“Strip all the way next time, damn it,” Ryka ordered in a voice much deeper and rougher than his host’s. He had managed to finish getting undressed just before his tail had grown out. Cursing under his breath, he kicked aside Kyle’s pants. At least Kyle had thought to close the blinds. “Did you hear me?”
Kyle didn’t bother to reply. Even if he did, Ryka would likely just ignore him. Although Kyle had no way to stop the demon from intruding in his thoughts, it seemed that Ryka was quite adept at blocking out Kyle.
After spending a few minutes admiring his reflection - the demon’s eyesight was perfect, unlike his host’s - Ryka started for the kitchen. “Seriously? Only two fucking beers left?” Grumbling, he grabbed them both before slamming the fridge door closed. “You’d better go shopping tomorrow.”
Yes, Ryka. I would’ve gone today, but since I had to send half the class to detention, they wanted me to stay and help watch the kids. Staying after school to help students who needed to catch up or who were looking to advance their studies had never bothered him – he was glad to do it. But having to stay and babysit a roomful of delinquents was something else entirely.
“Those little bastards,” the demon snarled, setting his drinks down next to Kyle’s glasses on the coffee table. “You should let me talk to them.”
I don’t think that would be a very good idea.
“I disagree. It would be fun, too. And don’t lie. I know how much you despise some of them.” As he spoke, Ryka again moved to stand in front of the mirror. His tail lashed back and forth as he studied himself, forcing Kyle to do the same. “Like what you see?” Ryka leered.
Kyle wished he could force Ryka’s gaze away - it made him uncomfortable, this level of scrutiny. And his discomfort only served to arouse the demon.
“Tell me, stud, just how much do you enjoy watching this?” he asked, grinning. Even if Kyle hadn’t known Ryka’s intentions, there wouldn’t have been time to ask what “this” was before Ryka was on his knees, one hand on the wall while he stroked himself with the other.
This may come as a shock, but not at all.
“Bullshit. You can’t fool me.”
In recent weeks, Ryka’s general attitude and behavior had done a complete one-eighty. Gone were the polite requests to be summoned out - now they were cruel demands. His once quiet and patient parasite was snarky and bitter, temper inflamed by the slightest inconvenience. Junk food binges had been replaced by all-night boozing marathons. And the once reverently spoken moniker “Master” had been replaced by his new nickname, one Kyle was too embarrassed to even think too loudly.
Since being possessed by an immortal demon made Kyle immune to physical ailments, he didn’t mind too much about the smoking and drinking, except when Ryka fell asleep with a beer in his hand and it spilled. It was the sudden need for almost constant sexual gratification that disturbed him. Disturbing because, as much as the demon liked perusing what seemed to be a near-infinite supply of online porn, he enjoyed pleasuring himself in front of the mirror even more.
“Prude,” Ryka sneered. “Or are you just jealous because I can go all night?” Kyle had learned early on exactly where the phrase “demon in the sack” had originated. It would take Ryka at least an hour to climax, then he’d smoke a cigarette - a process that took him about thirty seconds - and start all over.
“You know, stud, even when this body’s mine, I still like to pretend it’s yours I’m touching.” With a sigh, Ryka leaned his head back. But of course, he was still smirking, very much focused on his reflection.
Please don’t ever say anything like that ever again. And I mean ever. And for the last time, please stop calling me ‘stud.’
“Aw, come on. I know you think about me this way, too.”
I most certainly do not.
“Liar.”
Kyle just didn’t know how to argue.
***
“Mr. Saunders? Are you okay?”
A hand on Kyle’s shoulder startled him awake. For the second time that week, he had dozed off in the teachers’ lounge while trying to catch up on his work. “Sorry, I had a hard time getting to sleep last night.”
Ms. Richardson, the History department head, smiled at him before walking away. Kyle thought she hadn’t done a very good job hiding the suspicion in her eyes, but he had bigger concerns. There were only ten minutes left until his next class started, and he had twenty essays to grade. And if he didn’t have them done, he knew he’d never hear the end of it. His students had handed in this assignment almost a month earlier. If any of them complained to the principal, he was done for.
Still, even with all that weighing on him, he felt himself nodding off again. And he knew he was asleep when the dream started. It was the only dream he had anymore. About the night he had become Ryka’s host.
He was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and praying for sleep, for an end to his misery - and maybe a beginning to someone else’s - when a blinding flash of red light made him sit up, gasping. Hovering at the foot of his bed was Ryka, as he had first appeared to Kyle. And Kyle felt his jaw drop. If he had still been a child, they could almost have been twins. Except of course for the long hair, pointed ears, forked tongue, wings, horns and tail. The resemblance to Kyle’s ten-year-old self was otherwise uncanny.
“What do you want?” Kyle had inquired when finally he was able to speak.
“I have nowhere to go,” the imp had told him, its huge, innocent eyes glistening with unshed tears. It hadn’t even bothered Kyle that those eyes were far from human, with bright red irises and narrow, cat-like pupils.
Kyle had a soft spot for kids. It was the reason he had become a teacher. Thinking it was all a dream, he had offered to let the creature stay with him. “I have an extra room.”
“I need a body.”
“A body?” Kyle asked in disbelief.
The creature nodded. “They said I couldn’t stay in Hell anymore; that I had to leave. But they said I couldn’t just walk around like this. I need someone to be my host.” Sniffling, the demon settled himself next to Kyle’s feet. His wings and tail drooped onto the floor.
And Kyle felt himself melt. Weren’t they both in the same boat? He, too, had just been cruelly tossed aside. They were both hurt and alone. “What’s your name? Mine’s Kyle.”
“I’m Ryka. Will you share your body with me? I won’t be any trouble, I promise. And if you do it, you’ll never age, and you’ll never get sick. It’ll be like we’re taking care of each other.”
Seeing as it was just a dream, Kyle agreed. But the doubts began as soon as the little demon, with a toothy grin plastered on its child-like face, sat himself cross-legged on Kyle’s chest and placed his hands over Kyle’s eyes. “This is just a dream, right?”
“Of course not,” Ryka answered. Then, in a voice that made Kyle’s blood run cold, the demon said, “I, Ryka, take half this mortal’s body as my own. He shall be a good host, and in return for his flesh, he shall remain alive until such time as we are both called back to Hell.”
A thousand arguments tried to work their way out of Kyle’s mouth, but the only thing that made it was a scream. All at once, it felt like he was being torn apart. Worse than the feeling of his skin tearing was the sound – the ripping flesh and cracking bones. And he was sure he was on fire. There was no other way to explain the mind-numbing burning sensation that afflicted every cell of his being.
Even after he screamed himself hoarse, the agony continued. Blood clouded his vision, congealed in his throat. Somehow, he flopped onto his side, just in time to spit up a stomach-full of gore. Trying to quell his rising hysteria, he bit down on his tongue, and nearly bit it off. How were his teeth so sharp? His nails, too, embedded deep in his palms; there was more blood oozing out from between his fingers.
Eventually, thankfully, he passed out. When he woke, there was still pain, but he could think again. And he took stock. His temples throbbed, his tailbone ached like he’d landed hard on it, and there was an uncomfortable weight pressing between his shoulder blades. Unconsciousness was easier than trying to understand, and he had succumbed again.
When the pain finally subsided, hours later, Kyle found himself face down on the floor. Groaning, he had staggered to his feet, and immediately collapsed. His room had been covered in blood. It ran down the walls and dripped from the ceiling. The sheets and even the mattress were soaked through. It was everywhere.
Including all over him. He could feel it, drying on him, plastering the remains of his pajamas to his burning skin. His gorge rose, acid and iron forcing their way up his throat. He fought it back. Barely.
Panicked, he had crawled over to the mirror. This time, he managed to stop the scream working its way up his throat. It was the only time he’d worn Ryka’s wings, horns and tail while still having control of his body. His own brown eyes stared back at him from behind a tangled mess of wavy black hair. He wondered how it was possible that it had grown out more than a half a foot since going to bed. “What happened to me?”
Don’t worry, a much deeper voice had assured him. You won’t always look this way. Only when you summon me.
It was only at that moment that Kyle thought to ask the question he probably should have voiced much sooner. “What are you really doing here?”
The simple answer? Kyle nodded, staring wide-eyed at his own reflection. Are you sure? I can’t lie to you, not anymore.
“What? What do you mean?”
I can only speak the truth. I have … limitations here. And that’s one of them. Just as there are things you’ll be unable to do now, sealing this contract makes it physically impossible for me to lie to you.
“Then you lied before?”
His own lips had curled back in an evil smirk. Not entirely. So are you sure? Do you really want to know?
“Just tell me.” He had thought it would be better to know. And he had thought wrong.
Souls. I’m here for souls. Starting with yours. That would be the last time Kyle would truly feel cold. The chill spread out from his core - like his insides were packed with ice - and he could feel the hair on his arms and back of his neck raise up as he started to shiver.
“Mine?”
No, it’s mine now. But don’t worry.
“Why shouldn’t I?” He’d just handed over his eternity, no questions asked. Or not the right questions, and certainly not at the right time.
Because we can be friends, Kyle. I want to be friends. I don’t want to be alone, and neither do you, right? I’ll protect you. Just like you wanted. And I promise I’ll never leave you. Ever. Somehow he felt colder still. Hadn’t that been what he’d been hoping for? Someone to take care of him, keep him safe from hurt. Was that all it took to wind up in this state - a few stray thoughts?
There wasn’t any time to dwell on it - that deep voice was still rumbling in his head. Making that same assurance. I won’t be any trouble.
“No trouble my ass,” Kyle murmured, waking from the dream.
“What was that?” Ms. Richardson asked.
“Nothing, sorry.” Wiping sleep from his eyes, Kyle glanced up at the clock. Only one minute until class. So much for that correcting, he thought.
* * *
As he had expected, his students were furious at him for not having their essays graded. “What the hell, Mr. Saunders?” one boy, Nick, shouted. “You suck.”
“I apologize. I haven’t been feeling well.”
Between Nick and his friend, Tommy, Kyle would have had his hands full. But they were adept at instigating their classmates, and had seemingly turned the whole class against him. “You look hungover to me,” Mackenzie remarked. He was too tired to wonder how a fifteen-year-old girl would know what a hangover looked like. All he could do was ignore her comment, and all the others being directed at him by the rest of the students in his tenth grade History class. If only they put as much effort into their homework as they did in berating him.
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The enthusiasm he had once felt for his job had long ago vanished. Between dealing with Ryka and with kids who had never been taught to respect adults, he wondered why he even bothered getting out of bed in the morning. With a heavy sigh, he told his class to open up their textbooks.
Not one of them did. But already, less than five minutes into class, he could see cell phones coming out and notes being passed. Three girls in the back of the room were involved in what was apparently a very funny conversation, and Nick and Tommy were preparing to launch a few spitballs in his direction.
And he still had three more periods of History to teach before he could leave at two. Let me out, Ryka hissed. They walk all over you. They need someone to remind them there’s a Hell. Where most of those little shits will undoubtedly be going.
Kyle wanted to agree, at least with the last part. But he shook his head, as subtly as possible, and lectured to a class that refused to listen.
***
The rest of his day wasn’t as nightmarish as first period, but Kyle was so glad to hear the final bell ring that he practically skipped out of the building. Don’t forget to stop at the liquor store.
“I won’t forget, but is there any way you could please give me a break tonight?”
It seemed to pain the demon to concede use of Kyle’s body to its rightful owner, but he agreed nonetheless. I suppose. But at least have a drink for me.
“Sure.”
One drink had quickly turned into a few. Stretched out on the couch, he set a third empty beer can on the floor. You still seem stressed. Maybe you should jerk off.
“No thanks,” Kyle answered, probably too quickly.
Just a suggestion. It has been a really long time.
Grimacing, Kyle sighed and ignored the comment. He wasn’t interested in talking about himself. “By the way, why have you become such a pain in the ass? You used to be so well-behaved.” For most of the four years they had shared Kyle’s body, Ryka had seemed perfectly content only being allowed out a few times a month to stretch his wings.
With a mental shrug, Ryka told him, Guess I got tired of playing human.
“What do you mean? I haven’t forgotten what you are, if that’s what you’re implying.”
It’s not that you’ve forgotten, you just never fully understood. Even when we first met, I wasn’t an innocent little cherub. Demons are demons, no matter what size. I’ve been fighting my nature to help you get used to this, and it’s exhausting.
“It’s hard to think like that, but I’m trying. And I appreciate that.” Kyle could almost feel Ryka’s frustration. He was so happy to be having a serious conversation with the demon, and he didn’t want him to be discouraged. “What can I do to help, Ryka?”
Stop thinking of me as a helpless kid. I never was.
With a pang, Kyle realized he’d been doing exactly that. “I didn’t mean for it to end up that way. Maybe it was because you always acted so interested or surprised when something was new. It seemed so innocent, I guess.”
I was behaving that way because … Ryka trailed off with a growl, and Kyle’s vision went red. Gasping, he squeezed his eyes shut. This conversation was starting to go downhill.
“I’m sorry. Believe me, it’s much harder to think that now.” When he opened his eyes, the world was no longer tinged scarlet, but his heart was hammering away, and not to any emotion he was feeling.
Maybe playing wasn’t the right word. But I’m tired of waiting.
“For what?” Kyle queried, a little worried to know what for.
And his apprehension was enough to deter Ryka from answering the question. Things are just … different … now.
Desperate, Kyle kept trying. “What’s changed? Is there something else I did? Please tell me.”
It felt like Ryka was on the verge of an admission. And then, to Kyle’s dismay, the demon’s truer nature won out. I’m sick of holding back. I’m pent up, if you catch my drift. Four years is way too long to go without. This body is fun - at least one of us should get some use out of it. Which reminds me, maybe you can stop by that store with the black windows and get something I can shove up -
“Definitely not!” He didn’t mean to sound so stern, but he had just wanted Ryka to tell him what was going on. Of course, it was easy for Ryka to find ways to hurt him in return.
That’s funny, because it looks to me like you’ve had plenty of experience. The demon’s past was a complete mystery to him, but his was on full display for Ryka, Kyle’s memories queued up like what was probably the most boring video streaming service ever. And it was obvious when his past was being examined – still frames of the events flickered through his thoughts, and there was an annoying itch somewhere behind his eyes.
“Ryka ….”
Too bad you threw away all the fun stuff right before I showed up. I blame that fucking asshole who -
“Enough! I said ‘no’ and I meant it.”
I’ll make do with what I’ve got. Kyle very much wanted to argue, but hadn’t he already learned what a pointless exercise that was? And how come you want me to open up, but you won’t?
“Please, Ryka.”
For once, he could tell Ryka was going to submit. It made him nostalgic for the early days, when the demon had called him “Master” and only come forward when he was summoned. But he tried to quickly brush the thought aside.
Too late. Besides, you stopped summoning me. I had to do something to get out.
“Please get out of my head.”
It’s all I can do since you won’t be honest with me. Or yourself.
The words stung, and Kyle instinctively snapped back “Would you really be any better if I had continued to call you out?” To this, there was no reply. “I thought as much. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I do miss those days when instead of drinking myself sick every night, I used to just be eating ice cream until I puked. And you always asked so nicely.”
Guess my tastes have changed. Like I said, one of us should at least be having fun, right? Ryka was obviously done with this discussion. Before Kyle had the chance to even open his mouth, Ryka had moved on. But anyhow, what do you want to do about those brats in your first period class?
“Don’t worry about it. Please. Just let me handle it.”
The cackling laughter in his head made Kyle wince. You pussy, you won’t do a damn thing. You’re lucky that I can’t come out on my own during the day. I’m so hungry; I could use the meal.
His skin crawled at Ryka’s admission. He was somehow supposed to be upholding his part of the contract by supplying his parasite with the things he truly fed on – fear most of all. So Kyle really was lucky in that regard. Ryka shouldn’t have been able to come out at all without being summoned, it was one of the rules of being a parasite demon, but he had found a way around that.
It seemed he was only able to do so at night. There was lingering fear wafting around from a species evolved to be diurnal hunters; humans were instinctively afraid of things that went ‘bump’ in the night, and hosting the worst of those things, Kyle understood why. It wasn’t much, but it had been enough for Ryka to power through without waiting for Kyle to summon him. And Kyle was sure it was only a matter of time before he’d figure out how to take over during the day as well. And a way to get what he needed, with or without Kyle’s help.
“How have you made it this long without?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but there it was.
It’s not enough, but you’re surrounded by misery at work. The teachers hate their lives, despise their students, then feel bad for feeling that way. The kids are even better. They worry about being too smart, or not smart enough. About things never getting better, or getting even worse. They hate themselves and each other. Nonstop guilt and paranoia. It’s done the job, but I need more. Something bigger.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Let me out.
“I can’t. Please.” How was his own fear not enough? Especially in addition to that laundry list of suffering Ryka had just described for him.
Much to Kyle’s surprise, he could feel Ryka letting go some of his hold on Kyle. I don’t mean to be such a pain. I can’t help myself. And you’ve been a good host. I want to help you.
“I appreciate that. But it really wouldn’t be a good idea to let you out in class. So, if you want to help, let me get some work done.” Silence greeted Kyle’s request, and he took it as consent. “Thank you, Ryka.”
***
This time, Kyle only had himself to blame for long, sleepless nights. He had finally managed to get caught up on his grading, but the work had kept him busy until nearly dawn two nights in a row. Ryka had even helped, making sure Kyle stayed awake long enough to finish everything.
Though, once more, Kyle found himself falling asleep in the teacher’s lounge. Rise and shine, stud. I heard the bell.
“Don’t call me ‘stud,’” he mumbled, garnering him concerned looks from the other teachers in the room. His face was still red when he walked into his classroom, five minutes late. And he could have sworn that, before he showed up, all twenty students appeared to be on their best behavior.
As soon as he shut the door behind him, though, the chaos began. “Please take your seats!” he shouted. If they heard, they ignored him. And he was quite sure that losing his temper and yelling would only make it worse. So, he turned to the chalkboard and started writing out the day’s lesson plan.
A sharp pain at the back of his head stopped him short. His hand immediately moved to the spot, and his knees went weak when he felt something hot and wet. Almost afraid to look, he moved his hand to his side and glanced quickly down. And confirmed his own worst fear - his palm was covered in blood.
That fucking hurt! Let me out! Time for these little shits to learn a lesson ….
“Calm down, Ryka,” Kyle muttered, slowly turning to face the class. In doing so, he kicked a large and blood-stained rock. “Who threw that?” he asked. It didn’t come as a surprise that no one confessed. “Everyone, sit down and shut up!”
For the first time since he’d started teaching, Kyle realized he was losing his temper. And he found he really didn’t care. Especially not when it seemed to work. Most of the kids sat down, even though they were still laughing at him. “I’ll ask again: who threw that?”
“Threw what?” Nick asked, looking smug.
“You know what.”
He did it, Ryka informed him. I can see his sins. There are already so many.
“Was it you, Nick?”
“You can’t blame me without proof. I’ll tell my parents, they’ll tell the principal, and you’ll get fired.”
“We should tell the principal ourselves,” one of the other boys said. “Showing up to class hungover. That’s bullshit.” The rest of the class seemed to agree.
Why don’t you take a break and let me handle this, Master.
It was a tempting offer, but Kyle was determined to handle the uprising himself. At least until he saw Nick reach into his backpack and pull out another rock. Then his stomach knotted up. They really meant to hurt him.
Trying not to let his fear show, Kyle told the class, “I really don’t understand. I give extra credit and there’s not much homework. What do I do wrong?”
Oh, I know this one. The demon’s input was unappreciated, but unavoidable. You’re a pushover. They think you’re weak. So they take advantage. Nevermind that the girls don’t like that you ignore them, and the boys are pissed that the girls drool over you. Well, except for one - you just make that one confused. This, all in the time it took Kyle to blink once.
But his students had an answer for him as well. “Everything,” Tommy jeered. “What a pussy. I think he’s going to cry.”
Kyle thought he might, too. Feeling completely defeated, he hung his head and told the class, “Fine. I quit. Enjoy your substitute. I’m sure he’ll have better luck than I did.”
The whole class erupted into a cheer. He had heard them say again and again that they wished he would have a breakdown and leave so they could have a sub for the rest of the year. What the hell are you doing? Don’t let them win!
“I’m not. They’re all yours, Ryka. Please, just try not to get too carried away.”
From the back of the room, Kyle heard one of the girls laugh. “Oh my God, he’s talking to himself. What a weirdo.”
All talk stopped, though, when Kyle started unbuttoning his shirt. At least for a moment. “And he’s a pedo, too! Gross!” This time, there was no response to Nick’s comment. The rest of the class was too busy watching as Kyle folded his shirt, set it on his desk then put his glasses on the garment, acts he did with a frighteningly steady hand. It was the calm of someone who had been pushed just a little too far.
Feeling twenty pairs of eyes on him almost made him lose his nerve. For a brief, terrifying moment, he was afraid he’d forgotten the words. But then he heard them coming out of his mouth, as easily as if he used them every day. “Ryka, servant of the Great Kingdom of Hell, your host and master calls you forth.”
The inhuman growl that followed those words started from somewhere far outside his physical body. It was all fire and brimstone, a sound straight from the bowels of Hell. It was Ryka’s true voice. Still growling, Kyle/Ryka fell to his hands and knees. Never had the transformation happened so quickly. To Kyle, it seemed that not even a second had passed before Ryka stood before a room full of cowering children.
Smiling broadly enough to show off his pointed teeth, Ryka stretched his wings. Like an irritated cat, he flicked the tip of his tail back and forth, eyeing his master’s students with obvious disdain. And they stared back with wide eyes. Their regret for taunting their teacher was written on their faces, and Ryka was glad to see it there. Even better was the taste.
“Worthless, ungrateful mortal scum! How dare you disrespect us!” It pleased Ryka to see that most of the children started crying as soon as he spoke. His senses were much sharper than Kyle’s, and the heady smell of fear permeated the entire room. He wanted to be drunk on it, and he knew how to make it even more potent.
Really, Kyle had no idea what his parasite was capable of. At home, there was no need for Ryka to demonstrate his abilities. So, yes, Kyle knew the demon could make fire - the first time he’d bought Ryka cigarettes, he’d unthinkingly purchased a lighter as well. It sat, unused, in a drawer. When Ryka needed a light, the smallest of flames would pop up on his fingertip. Never had Kyle stopped to consider that same trick on a bigger scale. Or that it could be used as a threat, something to intimidate his prey, wring more fear from them. As he was doing now.
Teeth bared, Ryka stretched out his arms, turning his hands palm up. Blood-red flame danced there, reflecting in eyes that burned with their own inner fire. His grin spread, and so did the flame, leaping between his spread fingers, crawling down his forearms. The fire alarm managed one choked wail before going unnervingly silent.
And with only a glance, he was able to lock the door and windows, and turn off the lights. The shadow that stretched out behind him leered at the helpless students with eyes like burning coals and beckoned for them to follow it to their dooms with long, clawed fingers.
Eyes closed in bliss, Ryka stood, drinking in their terror. He was starting to get excited. If Kyle could have interjected, there was no doubt he would have started lecturing him. But too many years had gone by since he’d been surrounded by such delicious anxiety and regret. He really couldn’t help himself.
So, of course, his ecstasy was interrupted. “Back in your seat, maggot!” he shouted, leveling a paralyzing glare at the brave - or stupid - young man who had thought to make for the exit. Trembling, he froze halfway out of his seat. “I said sit!” The boy collapsed back into his chair just in time to hide the wet stain spreading across the front of his jeans.
“Please don’t kill us,” one girl pleaded, sobbing.
“Then listen up.” Ryka closed his fists, extinguishing the flames. Smoke coiled out from between his fingers. “Stop fucking with my Master. For reasons I can’t fathom, he likes you disgusting little beasts. He bends over backwards for you, and you treat him like shit. That ends today. From now on, you fuck with him, you fuck with me. I’m his eyes and ears, so I’ll know exactly what you’re all up to. And if you screw up, I’ll tear your vile human souls, kicking and screaming, from your puny bodies and drag them straight to Hell. It’s been a few years since I was last home, but believe me, I haven’t forgotten the way.” Behind Ryka, his shadow laughed. Flames licked at its jaws, though they were almost obscured by the shimmer of intense heat that accompanied them.
“So, now you have a choice. Learn some respect, and do your fucking homework, or suffer eternal damnation. Even with your inferior intellect, it shouldn’t really be a tough choice. Oh, and if any of this leaves this room, it’s the same deal. Straight to Hell. I don’t have a conscience, so don’t think I won’t do it. And gladly.”
Ryka had been alive a long time, and couldn’t remember ever having so much fun. Unable to hide his malicious grin, he leaned in close to a boy in the front row, Andrew, who he knew had tripped Kyle once. “Hey, you little shit. You kicked your backpack out under my Master’s feet once, didn’t you? You wanted to see him get hurt.”
Andrew’s brain screamed at him to lie, but his body wouldn’t let him. There was no way to deceive the demon. Andrew couldn’t stop himself from nodding. “If you ever try something like that again, if you even think about it, I’ll really make you spill your guts.” To help demonstrate, Ryka let his claws grow out and raked them across the top of the boy’s desk, leaving gouges a half an inch deep. “How do you think you’d hold up, hmm? Look at me.” When Andrew tried to look away, Ryka placed a finger under his chin and turned his head. Eyes wide, Andrew jumped away and put his hands up to his throat. One came away bloody, and he screamed.
“And you,” Ryka hissed, turning on Nick, who was trying to slide under his desk. Ryka grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him back upright. “Do you think I owe you any mercy? You certainly weren’t going to show any.” Reaching down, Ryka picked up the rock Nick had been preparing to throw at Kyle. “I’ll give you a better chance than you gave my Master. You might want to duck.” Ryka took a few steps back, obviously preparing to lob the rock at Nick.
Somehow, Nick managed to duck in time, though by the breeze he felt, he knew he’d barely made it. The heater behind him wasn’t so lucky. Glancing over his shoulder, Nick saw the rock embedded deep in the metal casing. “I won’t miss next time,” Ryka assured him, and Nick knew he hadn’t really missed this time, either.
By that point, all the children were openly wailing. A quick glance showed him that two had even fainted. From what he could smell, several had wet themselves. “Pathetic,” he murmured. Directing his attention inward, he asked, “Have I done well, Master?”
Um, yes. And you even managed to keep our pants on. I’m so proud.
“Thank you, Master. Then I’ll leave them to you.”
Usually, they were both already asleep when Ryka retreated. The sensation of Ryka’s wings, horns and tail being absorbed back into his body was disturbing. And draining. He was sure he was only unconscious a few moments, but it felt like much longer.
Groaning, he pushed himself off the linoleum floor and looked up into the tear-stained faces of his first-period History class.
“W-what was that?” Tommy whispered, only risking a moment’s eye contact with his teacher.
“A demon. His name’s Ryka. We share my body.” It was exhausting just to say that much.
“Did he mean those things he said?”
After a brief struggle to get to his feet, Kyle leaned against his desk. Before answering, he put his glasses and shirt back on. It felt wrong to be standing half-dressed and mostly blind in front of the class. “He can see, hear and feel everything I do, and then some. And at night, I don’t really have much control over him, so he can do whatever he wants.”
None of them spoke, but most whimpered or sniffled.
He looked around at the children and was overwhelmed with guilt. What had he just loosed on them? “If any of you need to go to the nurse, take a pass out of my desk and just go. The rest of you, I’ll be right back.” He only just made it to the bathroom before throwing up. He hated being sick, but it was the least he deserved for what he’d done. He only hoped his guilt was a fitting dessert for Ryka.
“Ryka?” But there was no answer, save for quiet snoring. “Lazy demon.”
No matter how many times Kyle rinsed his mouth, he couldn’t seem to get rid of the taste of vomit, so he gave up and headed back to his classroom. And he thought he might faint again when he walked in to find all twenty children seated calmly at their desks, textbooks and notebooks open and pencils ready.
It was a sight he had been waiting to see since the school year had begun two months earlier. The guilt wouldn’t let him take advantage of it, though. “Come get your essays. I can’t teach right now.” Not one of them was brave enough to approach his desk. “I won’t bite,” he assured them.
“Is he gone?” Mackenzie asked, so quietly he could hardly make out her question.
“You won’t let him back out, will you?” Andrew added.
Before he could stop himself, Kyle grinned, one of Ryka’s signature wicked grins, no less, and told them, “He’s never gone. And I’m not planning on letting him out, but ….” Nervously, but with great speed, every last one of the children lined up in front of his desk to wait for their essays, and each and every one of them begged for their teacher’s forgiveness as they passed.
***
Although he hadn’t made it through a whole day with so little resistance from his students in years, Kyle was still glad when the final bell rang. He had felt Ryka wake up during last period, but the demon had kept quiet. There was little doubt he was observing the class, waiting for a chance to point out a sinner whose soul he could take.
Still exhausted from Ryka’s exertions, Kyle sat in his car, waiting for the buses to leave. So much had happened since he’d arrived at school that morning. He was overwhelmed.
It seemed that word had spread quickly that it wasn’t a good idea to push Mr. Saunders too far. Hearing that had made Kyle feel sick, but the negative had quickly been forgotten when he overheard Nick say at lunch that he thought Mr. Saunders was possibly the best teacher in school.
“And he is really hot,” one girl had added, giggling and blushing.
You are pretty fucking sexy, stud. Let me out to play; I want to touch you.
“Not in the car.”
Oh, so I can touch you. Just not in the car.
“It’s your body then, not mine.”
It’s still yours, too. And I really do think we could figure something out to -
“This conversation needs to end now.” He was amazed that Ryka actually let the discussion drop. “I suppose I owe you, though, for helping me out today.”
His mind’s eye saw the demon’s wicked smile. I’ll say.
“So, what’ll it be? Liquor? Cigars? I can’t really afford a hooker, but ….”
Hmm. Tempting offers, all of them. But I have a better idea.
“I’m not sure I want to know.”
The smile he could see now was one he remembered from years earlier. A gallon of Rocky Road for me and a gallon of mint chocolate chip for you. And a big fucking spoon.
“Oh, Ryka. I really do like you an awful lot.”
And I absolutely love you, Master. Now, how about that ice cream?