Entering a Demon's Lair

Matt climbs out of the car and tilts the back of his seat forward to let me out. I squeeze through the space left between the front seat and doorpost and stretch my legs and back. These old British sports cars were not designed with rear seat passenger comfort in mind.

The school building – our destination – looms large in front of us, dominating our surroundings and screaming for attention.

I look at Peter through the car windscreen, he doesn’t move, just sits in the driver’s seat of his green E-Type Jaguar, his expression a mixture of fear and shame. I find this last fact hard to reconcile with the Peter I’ve come to know.

"Look at him." I whisper to Matt.

Matt considers Peter for a moment, nods knowingly then turns and walks off towards the steps leading to a pair of massive oak doors.

“He’s scared of what we’re going to see in there, but we need him to open the door.” Matt says over his shoulder - clearly expecting me to do his bidding.

I watch for a moment as he begins to climb the oversized steps, his long, gangling limbs bordering on comical were it not for the seriousness of our situation. We may have become good friends quickly, but watching him stride away reminds me how little I actually know him.

Reluctantly, I lean back into the car through the still open passenger door, “Come on mate, we need you.” I say gently.

Peter looks at me, his vivid blue eyes and pale, gaunt face - normally so strong and confident - are bordering on pathetic.

“I can’t go in there.” He says, fighting back tears, his voice wavering, hands shaking.

“You won’t need to, we just need you to open the door. You’re the only person that can.”

Peter climbs slowly out of the car, and I encourage him to walk briskly to catch up with Matt.

“Judging by the size of these steps, you must have been about nine or ten when these memories were formed.” Matt says matter of factly to Peter as we approach.

Peter nods in reply. “Ten.” He says quietly.

“And the size of those doors.” I point towards the enormous oak slabs in front of us.

Matt nods. “There’s a lot of emotion here.” He says, pausing for a second as if to catch his breath, which is ludicrous because one, Matt’s a ghost - sorry, a disembodied spirit - and, therefore, doesn’t breathe and two, there’s no air here, just Peter’s subconscious interpretation of it, which, given that he’s a doctor, is incredibly detailed. This deep knowledge of how the body works, makes existing in his subconsciousness feel almost real, well, from a physical perspective. Our surroundings are as surreal as any I’ve seen in any mind during my short series of adventures with Matt.

“We all have something like this Dan,” Matt says, gesturing towards the school, “a place or thing that we hide away and try not to indulge. Otherwise, it becomes stronger and consumes everything.”

He looks at the scenery around us, which, from our high vantage point gives an almost God like view of Peter’s soul. His entire life now shown in two dimensions spreads out before us – the periphery, the vague and distant past. The more recent memories immediately around us, each vying for our attention.

Matt turns his head back to the door with a barely audible sigh. “Demons are parasitic creatures that prey on the corrupted – getting a foothold here, they grow until they consume their host entirely.” We reach the tall, forbidding doors, which are more massive than I thought. “To stop that happening we lock them away - if we can. Peter has locked his away in here. In here with his demon is his dark side, the side that he doesn’t want anybody to see or know exists. His Demon’s lair.”

I think for a moment. “So, if it’s locked up, how does it ever get out?”

“It can’t, as long has Peter’s strong enough to resist its temptations he should be able to keep it buried for a lifetime. But it’s hard Dan. Other demons can smell its presence, as can those that have given their souls to the devil already and they will gather and tempt him into the darkness.” Matt looks at Peter earnestly. “And you’re too important to our cause Peter, we can’t risk that happening to you, so we need to intervene and that is a job that only you or Dan,” he looks at me frowning, “as living human beings, can do.”

Peter nods in reply and, overcoming his fear, steps forward, an oversize key magically appears in his hand, which he uses to unlock the door. The mechanism operates noisily and the door swings slowly open. A foul stench fills the air around us. It’s like something out of the Adam’s family and I laugh allowed, despite my fear.

Matt and I enter the building leaving Peter outside. The door closes behind us with a soft, almost imperceptible, click.

“It’s not so bad.” Matt says, but despite his words, looks around the large, dark hallway as though expecting an ambush. “Somewhere in here is Peter’s greatest fear, his most repressed thoughts and evil desires.” He looks at me, grinning, his brown eyes luminous in the darkness. “We really shouldn’t be here.”

“Well let’s leave.” I reply, “I’m shitting myself.”

Matt laughs. “Don’t be a coward, we have to save Peter and you’re the only one that can do it.” He says, referring to my ability to leave my body, pass through the infinity – a timeless dimension of infinite energy - and enter another person’s mind through the backdoor of their subconsciousness undetected.

A cold breeze caresses my cheek accompanied by the musty smell of old books, which conjures up memories that are not mine, sordid memories as we walk further into the building. I feel a stirring in my groin as a hand gently pats, then lingers on my bottom. A breath against my ear whispers something inaudible. I look around, but there’s no one behind me, unseen fingers ruffle my hair and I steel myself against Peter’s fertile imagination and vivid memories.

A barely audible sobbing in the background grates horribly at me. I look around trying to find the source of the noise, but to no avail.

“Don’t bother trying to find it, that sound’s as much a feature of this place as the bricks and mortar Peter used to build it.” Matt pauses for a moment as more unseen hands stroke against my body in the darkness. I hate this place.

A grand staircase, with huge ornate banisters on either side, looms ahead. It would be beautiful under different circumstances, but here in the eerie, oppressive darkness, it looks as sinister and threatening as everything else in this awful place.

“Are we going up there?” I say, my voice cracking slightly.

“Fraid so Dan.” Matt says dispassionately, as though trying to counter my fear with blasé.

“It’s all right for you, you’re already dead.” I mutter under my breath.

“I may be dead Dan, but my soul is as real as yours.” He laughs, but the fear in his voice leaks through the thin veil of humour.

The staircase unfolds before us. The steps as large as the one’s that we’d negotiated outside.

“This place seems so empty, so sad.” I say, overcoming the urge break down and sob myself.

“The emotions you’re feeling are those that Peter felt when he was at this school. He was a very sad, scared boy wasn’t he? It’s amazing that he’s turned out so normal.” I can see the faintest smile on Matt’s face as he turns back to look at me - the hint of fear I heard a few seconds ago now gone.

“This is awful.” I say, looking away from him.

“We all have secret feelings Dan, but like Peter, we lock them away and pretend they don’t exist.”

“This staircase seems to go on forever?” My legs are beginning to ache - another gift from Peter.

“It obviously did for him, something up there scared him.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet Dan, but we’ll soon find out.”

The last step is the hardest of all to climb and reaching it brings a feeling of inevitable doom.

The balcony is a cold and sinister place, the chill in the air cuts through to my bones, my breath hangs heavily as the piercing cold stings my nose and throat. The sound of sobbing is louder now. Matt stops dead and I nearly collide with him in the darkness.

He is listening to the sobbing, and sniffing at the air. I sniff as well but smell nothing. An unseen hand brushes my shoulder. I gulp, controlling my instincts to run from or shout at my unseen tormentor.

“Shit.” Matt says, more to himself than me.

“What?” My heart sinks into my bowels.

“There’s something deeply evil here.”

“What do you think it is?”

“Don’t know.” Matt says, peering through the darkness.

He moves on slowly. I follow, more through a fear of being left alone than for any interest in what lies ahead. I can feel eyes lingering on me through the darkness and am certain that an unseen hand will reach out and pull me into the darkness at any moment.

We enter a long dark corridor. The sound of sobbing, still louder, touching every fibre of my body. I want desperately to break down and sob myself. Self-control threatens to abandon me.

But to lose my mind here would damn me forever.

A long, thin sliver of bright light streams from a partially open door ahead, cutting through the darkness but illuminating nothing. The hall remaining as dark and forbidding as ever. We walk slowly towards the light, my head spinning, my stomach retching, every instinct telling me to run out of this place.

I do not want to go into that room, but I know I must. The vertical splinter of light grows longer and brighter as we approach. I try to look beyond the door, further down the corridor, it has no end, disappearing into the darkness, seemingly forever.

“What is this place?” I ask Matt, my voice wavering.

“I think we’re heading towards the dormitory.” He replies quietly.

The door is now directly in front of us. The sliver of light too bright to look directly into.

“It doesn’t cast a shadow.” Matt says as he pushes the door gently with his fingertips, it opens slowly with a barely perceptible creek.

The room is not very bright, but my eyes take a moment to adjust from the complete darkness of the corridor.

A young boy is kneeling against one of the many beds that stretch into infinity in two rows. He sobs loudly, his face buried in folded arms exposing a mop of thick, untidy blond hair on the top of his head. He sounds so distressed and lonely that I want to reach out to him. I try to push past Matt, but he holds me back.

“No.” he says quietly “something’s not right.” He looks around the room suspiciously, not daring to venture past the doorway.

“What is it Matt? What’s wrong?” I can hear panic in my own voice.

“I’m not sure, it’s just a feeling.”

The sobbing stopped. Matt and I look at the young boy who is now lifting his face out of his arms to look at us, an innocent, young face, eyes red and face streaked with tears. I feel a wave of nausea at the sight of the poor helpless wretch - Peter. Who could do such a thing to one so young?

“Please don’t hit me.” The boy splutters through snot and tears. “I’ll be good I promise.” He looks fearfully at my crotch. I shake my head, the thoughts now entering it disgusting and exciting me simultaneously.

Matt places a hand on my shoulder. “It’s not you Dan, it’s this building, the demon is here somewhere and he’s playing with your mind.”

“It’s all right.” I say choking back my own tears, my mood so black I can barely think.

“No one’s going to hit you Peter.” I say, Matt lets me pass and I move closer to the boy.

He’s shaking, visibly terrified, I reach out to touch him, but he recoils seeing the bulge in my trousers. I’m ashamed as he buries his face back into his arms. I look at Matt, desperate for help.

“Please don’t hit me.” The boy mumbles. “I’ll be good, I promise I’ll do whatever you ask.” He looks up at my crotch again, his lips parting tantalizingly.

The words are mine. I look over my folded arms. The Sun is shining brightly outside, but it’s still dark and miserable within the dormitory. The feelings of loneliness and despair are overwhelming. I am alone and scared. The door through which Matt and I entered is closed. The doorknob turns and I feel vomit rise into the back of my throat. I can almost taste the bitter semen that is sure to enter my mouth soon. Despair and helplessness tear at me viciously and I have to stop myself from retching. I sob silently, stifling tears as best I can, desperate not to be heard. ‘How can a ten-year-old-boy endure such things?’

“I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be good.” I say, as the door opens revealing a giant of a man.

“I know you will Peter, and I’ve got a bit of a treat for you this afternoon, something for you to play with.” He closes the door and begins to unzip his trousers. “I know you like this don’t you Peter?”

I nod in reply, shocked and disgusted at my unexpected excitement - did Peter enjoy this? I look up at the man’s kindly face, his soft ruddy and ageing features, his hair grey and receding. How can such a monster exist?

And then I’m looking down at the boy, smiling – the small, perfect mouth teasing me.

I look deep into the mind I’m now occupying. It’s a dark soulless place and I find myself walking along the long, dark corridor again. But it feels different now, a place of joy, of eternal pleasure. The sound of sobbing, no longer disturbing to me, is like music. It makes me feel good, aroused, glad to be alive.

There are lots of boys here and each one of them has their own special little thing that appeals to me. Peter is so innocent and so clever, and it feels wonderful to corrupt something so pure.

“So, you want to play do you?” A malevolent, disembodied voice says. “Do you really think that you can come in here and look me in the face and then just walk away?”

I try to fight my fear, looking around desperately for Matt, trying to remember my training, but something’s emerging from the darkness. I can feel the evil within it.

“So, you like young boys do you Dan?” The disembodied voice says. A hand touches my crotch, gently at first but begins to rub harder, my growing arousal consumes me. “There’s nothing wrong with that my friend, help me get out of here and we’ll take Peter’s body together and indulge our wildest fantasies.” The voice says close to my ear.

I’m breathing frantically - I can feel the presence all over my body, as I’m consumed by a deep, sensual pleasure – an overwhelming desire to submit to the demon’s will – to indulge these wild fantasies that are not mine – but Peter’s. Fantasies that he has repressed for so long.

You cannot converse with a Demon, there is no negotiation, it all comes down to a moment of strength – the ability to deny the very air that the demon breathes – corruption. Remembering Matt’s training with sudden clarity, I clear my thoughts, focusing on one thing, the only thing that can work – acceptance. I see the demon for what he is. A lost soul, abandoned on Earth and left to rot. It’s only purpose to corrupt humanity for some unknown purpose. And I see Peter for what he is – a man, damaged by the actions of others, left with desires and thoughts that he doesn’t want – desires and thoughts that this demon will use in any way it can to steal Peter’s soul. And, if lucky, to corrupt a few more souls along the way.

I need to show Peter that he can beat this demon, this evil, malignant thing. And that his thoughts, whilst wrong, are inevitable for one that has endured such a terrible journey. Show him that he can control them.

I stand tall and composed. I am in control of myself again and feel strong. I don’t need anything for this task other than my will and certainty that I have nothing to fear from this thing in front of me.

There is no prayer, no words, no deed of any description – I must merely stand, without fear or judgment so that the monster understands that it cannot win here. For it cannot harm me, it has no physical form – it merely torments and tempts its host into submission. But now all that is over, the Demon knows that it cannot win against me and, therefore, will never be able to tempt Peter to evil.

I watch as the Demon takes its true form, a fallen angel. A sad, pitiful creature cursed to walk in the shadows for eternity or until it, with the other two hundred banished souls, consume all of humanity. Until not one good human soul survives. Then they can once again take a physical form – the human form they covet.

But not today.

And with that one thought, that moment of strength, the demon simply vanishes.

And there’s Matt, standing in the doorway smiling.

“You did it, you won.”