Flickering blood dotted the surfaces of the room, running down the walls. Before them stood a demon. One of the repeated 'all' that must be killed. The next on said list.

My hand withdrew from the gun, and it clattered to the floor, my vision darkening as control of my body was taken away.

[Apologies.]

'Understandable.'

In truth, I wasn’t sure what had just happened. Those were my actions, and it was my mouth that created those words. Eric Redd wasn’t dead, although I suspect a pull of the trigger would have made that a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Pearl relaxed her arm, but a concerned scowl remained on her face. “Anybody want to explain what is going on?”

“Long story short...” Rodney slightly recoiled in the wooden chair. “Eric may have bore witness to an eldritch god and allowed it to grant him power?”

Her mouth puckered up, unable to chew on the words the Blank had laid out. Eventually, she sighed and deflated. “One day I was gone, Eric, you asshole. You’re a magnet for oblivion.”

[The Rodney, could you retrieve Eric’s jacket from upstairs? It’s the one that smells like dead pigman.]

“Uh, sure.” The Blank, keen to remove himself from the awkward situation, began to speed his way towards the upstairs.

Pearl narrowed her eyes at what I hoped was actually me. “What did I say about smells in the house?”

[Eric can’t reply right now, but he is very sorry.]

Both things were true, but not something I had the chance to communicate with him yet. Bird-Wight had become more than just a literal wingman.

“He’d better be. He almost had one hand less than he woke with.” Any residual anger melted away as she deflated, clicking away her armor to replace it with an oversized gray hoody and black sweatpants. “I need the full details.” She moved around to sit at the table.

Wight moved my body into sitting opposite, picking the chair back off the floor but leaving the gun discarded. Probably for the best.

[I will drop to normal possession in case you lose control again, Eric.]

“Thanks, Wight.”

I held my hands up to my face and enjoyed the brief darkness. The presence of Wight was cooling, and I felt calm despite my violent outburst. There was no additional urge to strike out at the purple demon as far as I could tell, and eventually, I relented to meeting the gaze of those radiant eyes again.

“So the Org knows about us and our little day trips.” Now in better control of my physical form, I utilized the best grimace I could muster.

“Fuck,” she shook her head.

“Despite seeing what the Titan did, they sent me straight to a Pigman King on a Quest…”

“Assholes.”

“Where I immediately hit my head and saw everything as if it was a cartoon…”

“…”

[In hindsight, it was quite amusing.]

“Talking to the King wasn’t working, so they dropped me into a pit of dead pigmen bits and probably piss? Also, lots of alive pigmen.”

“Eric, I’m not-“

“But there was a tunnel out of there - oh, that was after I shot a big hole through the King. The tunnel led to a chamber with a treasure chest. When I touched it, I saw an impossibly large maggot-rat god who offered me a boon and then ate me.”

Pearl stared at me in silence as Rodney bounced back down the stairs with my jacket. Eventually, she sighed and closed her eyes. “One fucking day, Eric.”

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“What can I say? I’m efficient?”

[You forgot about the visions of blood.]

She opened her eyes and tilted her head at me.

“Oh, yeah. Nothing major - just slight paralysis, the bath filling with blood, the walls running with blood and soaking through the bed. Simple stuff.” Despite her pearlescent eyes melting through me, I offered up a smile.

“Here you go, Wight… or Eric? Jacket reeks, by the way; hope you have another for our trip to Hell later-“

Pearl gasped. “You’re thinking of going back to… Eric, I should just twist your head off now to save the other demons the trouble!”

Part of me wanted to ask her to do it - it would certainly smooth out the whole process. I had come pretty close to that eventuality in drawing my weapon on her, however. Even now, it didn’t seem like it wasn’t me that made the move. I definitely didn’t want her dead, but shooting her made sense.

[Could you check the pockets for the Org prescription, the Rodney.]

He did so, nose wrinkled up at the muck that had settled into the bottom of some of the pockets. I hadn’t the heart to tell him which pocket it was in, after he had already committed to digging through each of them in turn. Eventually, he reached the right one and withdrew the small blister of pills I had been given.

In holding them up to the light, he observed them. “I can’t see anything odd about them - but then again, I’m not a pharmacist."

Pearl held out her hand. “May I?”

With a nod, Rodney passed them over. I settled into just watching the show. The anti-psychotics didn’t seem that required on my return - but I had taken them as instructed. Being as far from crazy as possible had become a little side hobby of mine. I was still learning.

Pearl popped one of the pills out of the plastic packaging and rolled it between two of her fingers, brow furrowed. Her eyes looked away, as if trying to focus on something other than the visual. She turned back to hand it to the Blank. “What do you think?”

Slight confusion on his face, he grasped at the pill and closed his eyes. Seconds passed as his head tilted to the side, and his confusion became a furrowed brow. He opened his eyes and looked at the demon.

“It feels… different. The energy is wrong.”

With a nod, Pearl turned her gaze to me. “Demonic energy.”

My immediate reply caught in my throat. We had determined previously that the Org’s medicine had traces of divine energy - and I had been healed with the demonic H-Mix before… so what was this? I echoed this question out loud.

“So, what is it?”

[Poison, Eric.]

Legends told that Eric Redd was terrible at jigsaws - however, at a glacial pace, some of the heavier pieces found their match by chance.

“They… gave me tainted pills… so that I would kill Pearl?” Anger and disgust rolled through my insides. The Org wouldn’t intervene, my ass. Despite the tests and differing treatment, they seemed intent on working this problem out, with one of us dying. The voice screaming in my head had been the tiny part of me that understood this already.

[Their error was in assuming I would help you kill the Pearl. However, she is a close friend to us all; I would not allow you to harm her.]

Tears welled up in my possessed eyes. The betrayal. The two-faced gall of the Org to try to turn me against her. My hands clutched at the edge of the table, knuckles whitening as I seethed.

“So it wasn’t the big rat guy that got you shaken up?” Rodney looked uncomfortable with the ire leveled at the Organization, but the proof was there in the pills.

[Unclear. But if the medicine is different, then it may give rise to suspicion.]

“A lot did happen yesterday.” I removed my glasses and wiped my eyes. Pearl looked upset, as well as angry. “I’m sorry, Pearl.”

“You soft asshole, Eric.” She shook her head. “It’s fine; I’m just worried about you now. How long will that be in your system?”

[I can flush it, but it won’t be pleasant.]

Things never were. I sighed and relaxed my hands. The Org was a burden that we were tied to. Anger filled me but cooled under the weight of reason. As much as I would like to kill my way through that drab building, they held the lifeline between myself and Wight. Controlled the promotion process that drip-fed the power of my patron into my battered body.

“How likely is it we could take the other pact vessel from the Org?” I was slightly surprised by this being my voice speaking. Rodney winced away.

[Very unlikely. I have been planning it for years.]

I pursed my lips together. Of course he had - any trapped animal sought escape. Especially when I had sat and wasted both our potential in a pit of misery. That he saw no immediate solution was both understandable and yet disappointing.

“Go fix up my Eric, Wight. Then we will discuss the next steps.” Pearl waved us away while her brow was furrowed in thought.

My Eric, she had said. The rage subsided a little more. “You, uh, will have to possess me fully, Wight. I’ve actually been struggling not to dive for the revolver ever since we sat.” Sweet death-dealing weapon of mine.

Relief as my conscious mind relaxed in having to hold my body tense. As a passive observer from behind my eyes, my body stood from the table.

[I would have to be fully in control for the process anyway, Eric.]

Joy.

As I left the room, my heart stayed with Pearl and Rodney. How different the meet-up could have gone, were Wight and I not closer than a normal Hunter and Patron. Were there not barriers of trust between the four of us oddballs. As my body stepped up the stairs and through into the bathroom, I wished that I could shiver as the spray of cold water shot from the showerhead.

I disrobed awkwardly, as my demon didn’t have much experience with clothing. Wight had me stand beneath the freezing spray, and I could not feel it.

[Again, I apologize.]

Even outside control and feeling my own body, convulsions of pain wracked my mind. I was vomiting. My vision went monochrome as I watched whatever insides came forth circle down the drain. Certainly seemed like a lot more than I had eaten recently. In fact, it wasn’t just my stomach emptying - once again; I was thankful that my senses were numb.

A small price to pay for sanity.