possession

[pastrylikewolf]

In this she was fortunate: if she just stopped trying, effaced herself, and gave in then it was as if nothing had happened, so long as she stayed out of that mode of protest. It had been 237 days since the ghost possesed her and by now she knew that to resist its control was to be plunged into visions of herself slowly decaying, with all ties and connections to loved ones strewn visibly around her, a nightmare web of detritus as they too began to stink and rot, until those that were not severed were forever changed. It was a threat from the ghost, "stay in line or I will take the bonds you hold dear and make them like hot piano wire wrapped around your skin." She knew the ghost meant to sacrifice her eventually, but life is about attitude, so you control what you control.

There are things she realized she had only thought about because of the possesion. Going to Europe for one, that was on her bucket list now. She wanted to start in Paris and see every great work of art she could from there. Feed her soul. She had figured out she wanted this once the ghost had taken control of her words and actions and body. "Sometimes," she thought, "you have to lose something to really see things clearly." She was glad for the insight, though rueful over the knowledge she'd never have the chance with her mind, body, and indeed part of the soul she wished to feed now in the hands of a ravenous malevolent entity. "God, give me the serenity..." she began to think before being plunged into the visions once more.

"Possession can be a rough time in anyone's life, and it really, really sucks that you are held in thrall by a phasmatic terror of the world beyond the veil." Her therapist acted like he understood. Certainly it was unfair to expect he had all the context, and it was nice to at least talk to someone who acknowledged the reality that the slow and cold reach of a force of death and decay through one's very person was, indeed, a really very scary time to be alive in your body. She just wished that maybe he shared the sense of urgency she had. "I am a shade of the 8th hell, I have claimed this one and her essence will be fed to the dark god Yangor on the eve of the 7th blood moon," the ghost croaked out of her resistant lips. "Let's remember that only *part* of you is under the dread thrall of the dark god Yangor, but it is your *behaviors* that really count and you are so much more than that. Do you recall the mindful breathing exercise I demonstrated last session?" Stuck on all fours to the now drippingly slime drenched ceiling, her head jerkingly rotated 360 degrees, looking directly towards her webcam. "Maybe eye contact will improve this session. I just need to try harder," she thought as a bone grating rasp left her mouth. "5 in, 5 hold, 5 out. 5 in, 5 hold, 5 out..."