Regnante Ira

“It still lives with me.” It’s here right now, too.

This year’s 4th therapist tapped a pen against the clasp of his clipboard, musing over what to reply. He had been pleasant enough so far, maybe, hopefully he could be the one to actually help. Even if he can’t see it…no one ever sees it. Not when I describe it in such amazing detail. Not when I try to sketch it out or give it a name or slap a label onto it. Never when it stalks me so brazenly its shadow turns my bones into ice and its violating gaze bakes my skin.

Therapist #2 said personifying these things can be useful — a tool — to psychologically distance myself from whatever internal demon may be harassing me. Unfortunately, I’m not the one who personified this fiend. 

This vile presence arrived in the guise of gift: that fucking box.

The therapist finally continued, “How do you treat it, like a roommate?” A throaty chortle burned my ears. Its hand slipped over my shoulder and slid down my arm as it moved to fill my entire view. I refused to move. The room swelled with malice. The demon assumed the form of a naked woman and its flesh burned cold on mine; it settled onto my lap, letting its arms and legs relax as it began to fiddle with my hair. I tried so desperately to look past its dark, smoldering torso, but it’s all I could see. It did this often. Doing all it could to goad, poke, prod.

“I try to ignore it.”

It grabbed my face — thunder boomed in my skull. I shut my eyes.

“Perhaps you could try to ‘speak’ with it instead? Ignoring our ‘negative’ emotions often makes them worse…are you alright?”

The storm grew, reverberating through my ribs. “I’ve tried to talk to it, it ain’t interested.” It laughed, shoving itself closer. “Drugs and drinking didn’t make it go away either, so please, skip the bullshit and tell me if there is something else I can do to make this stop!”

“Please calm down Mr. D’ Amore.” The demon sliced through viscera, curling a hand around my heart. Caustic whispers corroded my mind. “I can’t help until I know exactly what the issue may be.”

Blood and brimstone trickled into my lips; the demon kissed me. Invisible chains pulled hard, shattering sturdy walls.

“THIS IS THE ISSUE.” Heat filled the room as I shoved the demon away. It slunk backward, laughing loud. “I CAN’T GO ANYWHERE OR DO ANYTHING.” He stood up, abandoning the clipboard as the rigidity I had forced into my limbs faltered. “IT IS ALWAYS HERE, MAKING ME FEEL LIKE SHIT, TAUNTING ME, EGGING ME ON. I HATE IT.” I trembled in the chair. It stared from the corner, smug. A vicious headache slithered around the crown of my head. The chains were tugging, tearing away the control I had.

“Mr. D’ Amore, please—“

“Sorry.” I stood fast and was out of the building before anything else could be said.

The sidewalk stained with rain is all I focused on while I rushed back home. Bursts of strong wind rushed through buildings, shoving me around. Like a giant finger poking at an insect.

The headache matured into a migraine. Everything quiet became unbearable to hear, lights hurt to look at. Static thrummed under my skin, buzzing and blistering. Frostbite lingered in my chest, still so cold from the demon’s touch. Pain ate away the time and eventually I found myself struggling to unlock my own door.

Pulsing light obscured my vision; the migraine billowed down my neck, it clawed at my back.

None of these damn keys fit.

Laughter, behind me.

My body shook harder than the door as I kicked it in. Bits of wood and glass skittered over the entryway floor. More of the door broke apart when I slammed it shut. The world began to tilt as I stumbled through the dark house — I tripped and fell onto the living room floor.

It kept on laughing.

///

The eyeless cat slunk into view a while after the pain — the physical pain — subsided. Smoke drifted out of the cat’s eye sockets, so I just watched it rise, watched it blend into the dark room. I never left the spot where I had fallen.

We were both quiet…odd for it, and I.

It’ll always live with me. Trying to shove it back into its cursed box failed. Destroying the box failed. Trying to make a new box: failed. The guy that sold me the box…no one has ever heard of him. What a fucking souvenir to get from abroad, a malicious entity clung to me like a nasty bur, and one so determined to give misery a home here, too.

There was something else, something the demon didn’t bring, but wanted brought out. It had been chipping away at the walls, cutting away the nets, and tearing apart the thick bars that for so long had worked. More than this horrible creature in front of me, what it so desperately seemed to want to see terrified me far more than anything else.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” The whisper crackled in my throat. The cat’s ears twitched. “Please, go away, please.” It tilted its head and growled softly.

We continued to stare at each other, until the exhaustion in my limbs bled into my spirit.

A spiky tongue licked at my brow as I fell asleep.

///

Nothing but smoke here on the water. That is all it could be. The malevolent mass hovered over the calm, bright ocean, waiting…begging.

“Cyrus,” it shouted. The tide receded — my heart ached. 

“Cyrus,” it whispered. Water swelled behind the demon, a massive, towering wave.

The smoke plunged into the wave, and the water darkened.

“Cyrus,” it cried.

Cold water rushed into my lungs. Colder malice tore my mind asunder.

“Monster…”

The water boiled around me.

“Monster.”

///

I am always with it, a passenger to possession. This demon no one else can see, because all they can see…is me.