meghaspinel

[meghaspinel]

At the moment of possession, the young lady was sitting in her bedroom waiting for an appointment, an entry interview at a highly prestigious university for a degree in Political Science. Malphas already knew it was at four o clock; he had prepared extensively, because current Diabolical Law held that possessions were a minimum 50 year commitment.

He wasn’t worried about his choice. His young vessel had the potential to make it to the top of the human hierarchy; her only flaw was a lack of focus, and he could fix that.

He picked up her phone with her hand and checked the time. 11.17 a.m.

Plenty of time until the interview. Malphas decided to go out and slowly begin to sow the seeds of discord within the happy family, which was always the fun part, and also practical. His vessel, the middle child, was not the favorite, and that had to be fixed if he was to access the parent’s full resources for his long term, highly complex plans.

He tried to get up.

A pathetic wave of resistance from the mind hit him.

Ah well, that was to be expected. The girl had attachments to her siblings and did not wish to act against them. Love was so easily quelled with a splash of diabolical energy. So weak, these things…

Once more, he attempted to move the vessel’s body out of the bedroom. Another wave of resistance rose up like a stormy sea. What now?

The mind said it waiting for an appointment.

It is five hours away, he thought, but that did not quell the resistance, only increased it massively. The vessel’s mind said that it was 11.17, which was almost 12, and lunch was at 1:00 p.m., which would take a about half an hour, which was almost 2:00 p.m., which was almost 4:00 p.m. so there wasn’t any time to start a new task now, was there?

As he was trying to formulate a response to this madness, the vessel's mind randomly noticed a bird singing outside, which made it think of a colorful toy it had once had. The memory of childhood triggered another memory of the house the family had lived in ten years ago, which had a garden, which made the vessel's mind think of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.

Her hands picked up her phone automatically, the mind's sudden intensity somehow overriding his instinctive attack of coruscating diabolical energy. As Malphas watched in disbelief, the vessel’s mind was soon engrossed in an article about the culture of ancient Babylon, from which it absolutely would not be diverted. But it’s so interesting, the mind insisted. We can sow the seeds of discord later.

And inexorably, like a ship caught in a storm, Malphas was drawn into reading the article. It did bring back memories...

He was startled when the vessel’s father called her to come down for lunch.

The family did not object to the vessel reading at the table, and in fact seemed used to it. The girl kept forgetting to actually eat and Malphas laboriously got the food into her mouth, which he had to force her to chew, although such things were normally instinctive and didn't require intervention from the possessing entity. Meanwhile, she had moved onto searching for information about Babylonian pottery.

This was becoming exhausting.

At the end of the family lunch, the father told the vessel to get ready because it was an hour’s drive to the appointment. At 2:30 p.m., the vessel was still reading about Babylon, her mind now insisting that there was obviously plenty of time until the appointment, and getting ready only took like 15 minutes anyway....

When they arrived, disheveled and panting, almost 20 minutes late to the appointment despite waiting all day for it, and achieving nothing in the meanwhile but learning useless facts about Babylon, Malphas finally realized in exhausted horror that HE might be the one  who was going to be possessed by the mad human for the next 50 years.

[meghaspinel]

[meghaspinel]

He amuses the other children by carrying tadpoles in his dozens of mouths, and when he laughs, grown frogs hop out. Slime gurgles hilariously out of his ears in swiftly popping pale green bubbles. It’s the funniest show, the children tell me –

I know, of course. If you’re different, then for the sake of everything unholy, be funny.  

But they torment him sometimes, poking his hundreds of yellow eyes with sharp sticks, putting fat brown slugs on his skin to feed upon the translucent stuff that seeps out of every quivering, wet little slit. He rolls about, squeals –

I know that part too, of course. Little one, you will never be funny enough.