"Thank you, Dr. Rael; I finally feel confident enough to ask her out! I'll update you next week like usual?"

"Of course, Ethan. I'm sure it will go great!"

Last patient of the day gets up and walks out. I won't sugarcoat it; he has a 50% chance of this going his way, but what matters is the confidence, right? At least, that's what a good portion of this job is. Give people a kind, listening ear; add in a few caring nudges to get them on the right track; prescribe the occasional sedative, and you're through. I enjoy helping people through their issues, no matter how bleak or downright icky, but I have a bit of selfishness tied up with the happiness I get from my profession. The drama of my patients' personal lives has a way of keeping me... level. The more I focus on their latest bout with their abusive boss or how they communicate with the neighbor who has parties at 3 A.M., the less time I have to look inward. I'm sure it sounds backwards for a psychologist to steer away from his personal struggles, but even I must admit some boxes are better left unopened.

Once my receptionist clocks out for the day, I grab my coat from my office closet and walk to the door, keys in hand. I turn to my watch and see the time with unease: 5:15. How could we have gone half an hour over our time? Had he really explained his plan to ask Tracy out that many times?! I usually take my medicine at 5, but of course I forgot the bottle at home. If I use the alleyways on my drive, maybe I can make it in time. I walk to the door to hurry home, but instead of seeing the plaid hallway I've grown accustomed to, a man with a green dress shirt, matching slacks, and wingtips stands in my doorway with a grim stare. I'm used to a random person coming to me after hours for an evaluation, and usually I convince them to leave without any extra intervention, but something about this man is extra unsettling. Something in the way the light from the hallway bounces off his skin, or the flutter in his eyes, or even the strange thickness in his breath that seems to add a chill to the air. I step back and smile thinly at the man, making sure to avoid using my 'doctor voice.'

"Good evening, Sir. I'm off the clock at the moment and need to get home for an urgent errand, but I do have an opening tomorrow morning if you'd like to-"

"Please, listen. I have nowhere else to go."

His voice hits like a sharp blade. It's shrill, low, and cracked, barely reminiscent of a human. I take another step back in shock and try to pry more information.

"I-I'm sure your situation is quite important, but I really need to go. Are you sure tomorrow morning can't work?"

He clears his throat, as if he wants to alter his tone, then speaks again in a calmer, less-infernal manner.

"I may be dead by morning. Can't you hear it? It's already deteriorating. Oh, God, why did I have to break the rules..."

"What rules did you break, Mr...?"

"Just call me Lok, for now. Listen, I heard from Tony that you were amazing with very difficult cases. I'm begging, if I can just tell you my story and you give me some advice, I'll help you with whatever you need."

I slightly cringe when I hear Tony's name; he's a nice guy, if not a bit chatty, but he's told me the crowds he associates with. None of them are people I'd like to meet under any circumstances, and here I am as a hostage of what could be one of the most dangerous. Seeing little way to escape, I comply.

"Step into my office. Let's have a chat."

I gesture toward my meeting room door, and he steps in, sitting on the patient couch with a shiver. He stares at me for a moment, as if he's discovered a new piece of information, but instead of speaking he just looks down at his feet and whispers to himself, saying "idiot, you're doomed" over and over. I walk to my chair and sit down, taking a quick glance at my watch. 5:20. If I can wrap this up by 6, I'd have a chance. I grab my notepad, lean over in the typical 'caring, listening therapist' position, and motion for Lok to start.

"Alright, Lok, you have the floor. Where should we begin?"

Lok closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself, then turns to me and opens his eyes, now gleaming black and purple. I keep my outward composure, but my heartrate quickens. It doesn't take a genius to know this can only mean something really, really bad.

"I've always made sure to keep the rules; don't show anyone your true form, don't feast during the penance, and don't try coming back without proper payment, and now I'm breaking two out of three. You have no idea how bad this will get for me."

"Let's not think about that right now. How about we talk about 'coming back'. Where did you come from, Lok?"

Lok glares at me for a moment, like I've insulted him. Still, he relents and answers.

"Promise not to laugh?"

"Of course."

"I... I come from the underworld."

"I see. Are you a, er, is demon the right word?"

"Demon, Oni, it's all under the same umbrella. Whatever the case, it's been common for my people to get passes to go to Earth for a few days or months during holy holidays or seasons of the year, but sometimes we can live here permanently as long as we keep a solid human form and don't kill or aid in killing during the penance, which is usually late spring to the middle of summer. I moved here a century ago to enjoy the evolution of human culture, and I've always followed the guidelines, but as the world around me got worse, people getting more and more vicious, less caring for one another, the urges came heavier and heavier... It was only a day until penance ended and I couldn't make it..."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Lok... what did you do?"

"She wasn't even a bad person, like we're usually supposed to target. She was nice, just got her nursing license. She wanted to work in the pediatric ward."

I think for a moment and remember a news report last night about a nurse being found in the lake. It took the police running the serial number from a screw in her leg to identify her because her skin was so badly charred and her head was, well... gone. Lok begins to cry, unable to continue explaining, so I carefully hand him a tissue, making sure not to set him off. I turn to the clock, and it's now 5:45. Time is running out, and my leg starts to twitch. I can feel it coming over me like a wave, but I have to stay focused.

"We don't have to continue talking about that right now. How about you tell me about home. What is it like? Do you have any family that could help you?"

"They stopped contact when I left. Said it was an embarrassment that I wanted to live among them. We came from high standing in the Underworld; there are five castes of my people. Insectoid demons are at the bottom, mammals are next, shadows above them, and mine, the classic horns and wings group, are second only to the generals. They expect utter perfection from us, as we are their direct servants, and it is the generals who will exact punishment for my crime. Do you understand the powers they possess? To rip your very nerves apart and stitch them back together. Feed you to the vilest beasts to ever exist and allow you to feel their stomach acids turn you to excrement. And that's just on a nice day."

As Lok explains, vivid images start to dance in my head of all he's explained and more. I try to stop them, but it's as if he's forced them into my brain. The horror grows more and more unspeakable, until I fall out of my chair in anguish, foam streaming down my mouth and my fingers practically ripping the carpet from the floor. Look gets up to help me and pulls me to the couch, tears once again streaming from his face.

"I'm sorry, it's hard to control that power sometimes. But you see now why I have to find a way to escape. I hate so many parts of this world, but I have to continue experiencing it. There has to be something you can think of, please!"

I try to piece together some form of advice to keep him calm, but I have nothing. It's clear that these repercussions are difficult to escape, so I attempt to balance comfort for what might be his final moments and giving him anything that may give him a little more time.

"Your people are very warlike. If you were to challenge one of the weaker generals in combat, or even a high-ranking member in your own caste, perhaps you could overcome them and win freedom? If you fail, perhaps just the show of strength will be enough to knock down the charges."

"But how? I'm not strong enough to do that! I- I've always been told I was weak..."

"Lok, I have spent years building my mind's protections. All throughout school, I've been taught the inner workings of the mind, and you broke mine to show me those... things, even if it was just for a second. If you can do that, I'm sure you can stand against whatever comes next. Your previous moments of weakness do not need to define you, nor whatever was told to you by your peers. You had the courage to come to me for help, yes?"

Lok looks uneasy for a moment, but then he opens his mouth in a small smile. Suddenly, his skin turns from pale ivory to a dusky gray. His entire build grows from six feet to eight, with four massive horns erupting from his skull and large, leathery wings ripping open his back. He towers over me, hot breath reeking of death and despair dripping on my face... and he hugs me.

"Thank you, Dr. Rael. Tony was right; you are a miracle worker. Even if I fail, I know I at least tried. Better to go down swinging, yes?"

"Definitely. Good luck, and take care!"

Lok turns to leave and I struggle to hide my excitement, the twitching in my legs and chittering of my teeth growing harder to hold back by the moment. Just as I think I have gained freedom, Lok stops and turns back with suspicion.

"What do you mean you built your mind's protections?"

"Oh, I simply meant I learned many ways to keep my composure and stay sane from experien-"

"No. No human can resist my kind's powers without extreme magic. Real magic, not mantras and therapy techniques. And what about saying my people are warlike? How could you have guessed a challenge might be possible?"

"Please, everyone thinks that about demons, all due respect. It'd be shocking if I didn't suggest something related to violence."

"People assume demons are violent and warlike, yes, but not organized. They don't assume we have a strict set of laws and leadership. We're seen as feral by the masses, and that is how we kept our strength for so long."

Lok stares at me, then turns to an empty point in the room to think. His eyes widen, and he backs away in fear.

"Th-that feeling when I sat down! I thought it was just my nerves, but I knew I recognized that aura! Your name; Dr. Rael is-is short for... oh, no."

I sigh and turn to my watch. 6:00. Well, I suppose the jig is up. I close my eyes and let it all out. My skin turning an endless, inky black. My teeth growing from small squares to long, sharp fangs. My legs changing from those little meat sticks I've grown accustomed to over the last 500 years to my usual avian self. I now tower over Lok at a stark 12 feet, and smile.

"General Azrael, at your service."

Lok screams and turns to leave, but I slam the door before he can even take a step. I grab him with my hand and pull him close.

"I honestly would've vouched for you, Lok. You seem like a nice guy; smart, takes responsibility, been beaten down by family. Everyone makes mistakes, but this is too big for me to dismiss."

"I won't tell a soul, my lord! I swear to you?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... I think it's clear you like to open your mouth when you get frustrated. I've spent too many centuries living here, learning the movements of humanity, studying their growth, enjoying their wars and feasting on those left behind, and taking this little side gig for some downtime, and I won't let a little imp ruin that. Now, I think it's time for me to open my mouth."

Lok tries to battle against my grip, but it's futile. In the middle of my chest, my ribs rip from my thick skin to form a sort of mouth, with nothing but void sitting beyond. He tries to beg, like they always do, but it just makes it more delicious. I throw him into the pit, and in an instant his screams are gone forever. I close my ribs and sit on my chair, angered I had to reveal myself, although I have to admit, it was nice to stretch my legs for a little while. I hear a small storm crackle in the living room, and two more imps erupt from the cloud. They gaze upon me in shock, and immediately bow.

"Lord Azrael, we sensed the criminal Bellok here. He is wanted for breaking the law of the penan-"

"Don't worry, boys, I've already dealt with him. My feasting is allowed during penance, especially as punishment, yes?"

The imps nod in agreement and retreat to the cloud, leaving without another word. They know the fate of those who disturb me for too long. I stretch in my chair and sigh. I'll return home to take my pill and keep myself calm in a moment, but now I'll just enjoy my meal and remember: No matter how long or how deeply I hide it, the demons will always find a way out.