38. Camryn

THIRTY-EIGHT

CAMRYN

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Aron says when I exit the basement. I turn around and gasp. He leans up against the doorframe with his ankles and arms crossed. Two slasher wounds bleed profusely at his side, but he doesn't look to be in pain. He doesn't even seem to be aware. I stare at the deep lacerations as he pushes off and walks closer.

"You're hurt, Aron."

He walks around the table, dragging his fingers over the worn surface. His lips pull to the side. "Heading somewhere?"

My mouth opens and closes. I peer behind me when I hear muffled voices downstairs. What's Dominic doing? Why isn't he coming? We need to run. Aron crosses the small space and drags his hand through the utensils attached to the wall, causing them to clatter loudly.

"You need to put pressure on that," I say, hurrying past him and pulling open cupboards until I locate a kitchen towel. I toss it at him before spinning around in search of a weapon or something to use. We need to get out of here. I shouldn't have left Dominic.

Yanking open a drawer, I feel around. Fuck, it's not there. Mom must have moved it. I pull out the remaining drawers and empty the contents on the floor before crouching.

There it is. Mom taped the gun to the underside of the counter. I pull it out and check its chambers—one bullet, which isn't enough but will have to do until we figure out what to do with the axe. I go to put it in my back pocket, when something hard whacks me in the head, and I collapse to the floor.

Pain explodes behind my eyeballs. I groan as the room spins, trying to gain my bearings. What the hell happened? A deep ache spreads through my throbbing skull.

Aron appears in my vision, staring down at me with black, empty eyes. I blink him back into focus when he blurs before me. He inspects the frying pan in his hand—the same one he used to beat me over the back of the head—and then he chuckles, tossing the pan in the sink and grabbing me by the arm.

A flash of pain stabs at my skull when he hauls me to my feet. Before I know what's happening, he shoves me down in a chair. I'm too weak to keep my head up as he grabs a backpack near the fridge and unzips it. He retrieves something before returning to me and crouching between my legs.

He circles the rope around his hand, intent on the task, then peers up at me from beneath his dark lashes. "You know," he says, "the best is yet to come. You'll soon get to listen to your boyfriend's dying screams. If it's any consolation"—he leans in close enough for his breath to fan my face while he strokes my hair behind my ear—"he really does care about you."

I force my eyes shut when I see two of him, disoriented from the pain. "The demon… This isn't you, Aron. You're possessed."

His voice fades in and out of my consciousness, my head lolling while Aron secures me to the chair with a long piece of rope. He circles it around my chest several times and then cups my chin. His fingers smell of blood and death, the tangy scent pricking my nose when he skims his thumb over my cracked bottom lip. I flinch away from his touch, and he grips my jaw and digs his fingers into my skin. A whimper claws its way up my throat as he leans close to whisper in my ear. "Listen..."

That's when I hear Dominic's guttural bellow.

"Listen to him scream." Aron straightens, holding his hands out to his sides like he's praying, head back. His lips part and he whispers what sounds like a mantra in an ancient, foreign language.

I try to lift my heavy head, but every time I do, pain lances through my skull. Aron opens his eyes and turns to face me again. I try to blink him into focus, but struggle to make sense of the vision in front of me. It's almost like he's flickering between a human and a tall monster twice the size of Aron. Smoke and embers billow from its nose, swirling shadows cling to its crimson charred skin, and curved horns extend from its head. Yellow teeth, sharp enough to tear through flesh, gleam as it whips its tail restlessly. Then it flickers again, and Aron is back, placing his hands on the armrests and looking me in the eye. In a flash, his face flickers, and I stare into the eyes of evil. I thought I knew the shade black, thought I'd seen the limit of how dark it can be, but this… I'm drowning in an endless void of nothingness. I need to look away, or that void will devour my soul like a black hole devours everything in its path.

Those charred lips peel back to reveal its sharp, yellow teeth just as another scream sounds from the basement. I try not to cry. I try so fucking hard to remain strong, but fear latches on to me with fierce talons.

My nose pricks with the scent of burning sulfur as a cloud of smoke pours from the charred cracks in the demon's skin. He speaks in a distorted voice, high-pitched yet also deep. "Your fear smells enticing, human." I gasp when he breathes me in, the scent of sulfur intensifying. "Your desire, even more so."

"No, please," I beg, shaking my head as he tears my shorts from my body, like they're nothing more than a flimsy scrap of lace. Cool air licks at my bare pussy, but before I can close my legs, they're wrenched open. The demon's huge form hovers over me as he bends, flicking his serpent tongue over my most sensitive area.

A sob escapes, and I shake my head desperately. More smoke billows from his hulking, charred body as he growls a terrifying, sinister sound, sparks of embers flying into the air.

I struggle against the restraint, but nothing works. I'm at the demon's mercy until it's done feasting on my sanity.

A warmth builds in my core. I can't stop it from spreading outwards. An appreciative growl rumbles from the demon as his slithering tongue fills me up, and no matter how much I try to stop it, a moan dances on my lips. I know the demon is feeding on my desire and fear. Not only that, but also the anger increasing inside me. How dare this ancient creature from Hell, with its big horns and sparking embers, force pleasure on my body for its own twisted entertainment. I want to send it back to Hell, where it fucking belongs.

I try to kick it off, but that wicked tongue morphs from one into two. I cry out when it slides over my back hole and slithers inside my body. There's so much sensation.

Forcing my eyes shut, I refuse to look at the monster between my legs, with its tongues filling up my holes. A monster that's growing larger and stronger by the second. A monster that's possessing me the only way it knows how, because I won't let it possess my mind and soul.

"Fuck," I whimper as an orgasm overtakes me. I tremble on the chair, barely aware of the ropes digging into my chest. The tongues retreat, and when I peer down, Aron smirks up at me. I stare into his black eyes, wondering if my friend is aware of what the demon is forcing him to do. Brittany was when it possessed her.

My traitorous body shudders from aftershocks, when I become aware of a different shape behind Aron.

Dominic's lips peel back over a snarl. "I always knew you were after my girl." He drives the hammer in his hand into the back of Aron's skull with a sickening thwack, and blood splatters everywhere. I scream as he topples to the floor. Dominic pulls his arm back and brings the hammer back down, crushing Aron's skull with a hard crack. Brain matter sticks to the hammer when he hits him a third time and then a fourth. Straightening, he tosses the bloodied hammer to the floor.

I'm sobbing now as he kicks the corpse out of the way with a disgusted look on his filthy face. Relief floods me when I feel his blood-soaked fingers on my wet cheek. "It's over now," he reassures me, cupping my chin. "They're dead."

I nod through the tears and snot and grime. "What happened to Lily?"

He steps around me and removes the ropes. "She's dead."

My chin wobbles at his admission. Our friends are dead because of me. Dead. They're never coming back, which is all my fault.

Dominic rounds the chair, and I stare blindly at his thick bulge. The sensation of his fingers in my hair should be reassuring and soothing. But I can't shake the guilt.

"The demon will come back. Did you get the axe?" My eyes widen as I lift my gaze to see a deep gash on his side. His T-shirt is soaked through with blood, and it's not Aron's. "Dominic?" I whisper. "You're bleeding."

He hums, stroking my hair away from my shoulder. More blood bubbles from his side, and a feeling of unease trickles down my spine. I reach out to touch the hem, but he clasps my wrists in a tight enough grip to cut off the blood circulation, a shocked gasp parting my lips.

"What is it about you that makes you so different?" he asks, shoving my hand away and threading his fingers through my hair, but his touch is no longer gentle. It's rough and cruel. "I've always wondered what makes you special…" He pulls tightly, eliciting another sharp gasp. "Your direct bloodline." Tears pour from my eyes as he puts his moist lips to my ear. "Welcome home, sweetheart. Did you enjoy your family reunion downstairs? Poetic, isn't it? That your grandfather arranged the bodies with a space in the middle, just for you, before he hung himself." Breathy chuckles drift from his lips to my ear. "You should have seen his feet twitch as he died. The noose failed to break his neck, so it took him several minutes."

"I don't understand," I say, breath catching, as he releases his tight grip on my hair to resume combing his slick fingers through it.

"Let me ask you something." His smile is patient, almost kind. But then he pins those black eyes on me, and terror chills me to the bone. "Did you ever feel like you didn't belong? An outsider amongst strangers?" He fists my hair again, and I cry out in pain. "That's because you were. The woman you think is your mom… Well, she kept you in the dark."

"No…" I choke, shaking my hair against his tight grip. "You're lying."

When Dominic speaks again, his voice distorts, and the scent of sulfur intensifies around us. "Let me tell you a little tale, Camryn Kriger, daughter of Magdalene Kriger and Dr. Benthall."

"Your grandfather purchased this house. It was a new start for the Krigers. Their fresh beginning. But Kriger was easily influenced by the darker energies that bleed from this soil, so he soon began to change. He built an altar and dabbled in the occult. All in secret, of course. Your grandmother, Mrs. Kriger, would have tossed him out on his ass if she knew what he was up to."

The demon chuckles.

It's all starting to make sense. The pieces are falling into place. My mind spins. "Kriger summoned the demon… You."

"He invited me into your lovely home, Miss Kriger." It strokes my damp cheek. "Such a beautiful family."

I bat his hand away and try to stand up, but he shoves me back down with a hand on my shoulder. "After your family was dead, your mother, the sole survivor, was institutionalized. Dr. Benthall took a special shine to her, and she soon fell pregnant. Nine months later, you entered the world, and your mom died shortly afterward."

"You possessed Benthall and raped my mother, didn't you? Just like you possessed Dominic's father." I gasp, feeling like I might be sick. "You couldn't possess my mother, just like you can't possess me. That's why you're doing this. You didn't kill my mom. No, you wouldn't have… Not until you got what you wanted. She committed suicide. Threw herself down the stairs and broke her neck. Oh my god… The house…" I glance around the kitchen, seeing it for the first time.

Sticky fingers slide along my jaw, and a coppery scent settles in my nostrils. "Welcome home, Miss. Kriger."

"My mom... Katherine…"

"Adopted you shortly after birth. This house has always belonged to you, and it took a horrific accident to bring you back home."

I peer at the demon, seeing its darkness ooze from Dominic like heat waves on a sunbaked country road. "You murdered my real family, my stepfather, my friends , everyone I care about because you couldn't possess my birth mother, and now me?"

He laughs menacingly. "I haven't killed everyone you love or care about yet." His sinister words have barely registered when he grabs me by the shoulder and throws me across the room. I slam into the fridge and let out a cry of pain. My arm pulses as he stalks up to me and yanks me to my knees by the hair. Fear ripples through me, tensing every muscle. His form flickers, and I catch sight of his swishing tail. Then he tosses me across the room recklessly like I'm nothing more than a ragdoll.

I slam into the wall above the counter, knocking over the utensils hanging from hooks. The loud clatter intensifies when I try to scramble off the counter, which causes the items to fall to the floor.

Dominic kicks a metal whisk out of the way as he walks up to me, grabs my arm, and hauls me down. I crash to the floor, and the wind gets knocked from my lungs. He cocks his head to the side as he watches me gasp for air.

"You should hear him scream," he taunts as he digs a finger into his temple. "It kills him to watch himself hurt you." With that, he stomps on my thigh. There's a loud crack, and then corrosive pain radiates through the bone. I scream and he applies pressure with his booted foot on the thigh. "That's it, human. Let him hear you. Scream for your boyfriend."

I'm gulping breaths, crippled by the agony in my leg and unable to think straight. Dominic eases up, then drives his boot into my side. I fly back against the cupboard and clutch my bruised midriff.

"I wonder how much pain you can handle," he says as blood pours from my mouth after I bit my tongue as I slammed against the cupboard. "Your mother was a strong one in that asylum. Dr Benthall had a penchant for torture."

"Don't blame him for your actions," I hiss through bloodied teeth.

He crouches down in front of me, now in his demon form, smoke seeping from the cracks in his skin as he studies my face. "While I might have taken advantage of his weak mind, he was no angel." He reaches out and strokes the backs of his clawed fingers down the column of my throat, my cheek burning in the wake of his touch.

He stands up. "As much fun as it is to feed on your boyfriend's anguish, I think it's time to stop playing around." Pausing for a moment, he looks around.

"What do you want?" I ask, trying to shift, but the pain in my leg makes it hard to think, let alone defeat a demon. That's when it dawns on me that I won't survive. I'm up against an ancient monster from the pits of Hell. I should just let it kill me and get it over with. But it doesn't want to kill me yet. Not until it has had its way with me. If I die, Dominic dies. He still stands a chance at getting out of this alive if I find a way to distract the demon. How do I get it to exit him?

Booted shoes appear in my vision, and Dominic lowers to his haunches. The knife in his hand gleams. "Please, whatever you plan on doing, don't."

"She begs." He presses down on the swell of my lip with the blade's flat end. "Do you know how rare it is to find someone like you and your mom? Humans with such strong, impenetrable minds that not even the greatest evil can find a way past your defenses. You're not even aware you're doing it. You have no idea how powerful you are, Miss Kriger." The knife slides over the curve of my chin. "That's also why you attract evil."

"What do you want with me?"

"You already know."

"Possess me? Why? Once you're inside me, what then? I'm no more exciting than any of the other countless humans you've tortured and killed for entertainment."

"On the contrary, you're a delicacy." He reaches out and cradles the side of my head. "To finally break your mind and see inside your memories, to taste every inch of your soul, and see parts of you that you're too afraid to show even yourself…" His black eyes switch to a flaming red. "Don't worry, human. I'll be easy on you when I feed on your succulent soul. It'll be painless. Just like falling asleep."

I release a laugh, but it's a broken sound, and then I lift my head and stare into that endless void. "You'll never possess me."

His form flickers. Demon to human and human to demon, like a mirage. He indulges me with an amused smile. I bet this is the most fun this pathetic hell creature has had since my birth mother. "Are you sure about that? he asks, brushing my matted hair away with the blade, and I suck in a breath when it scrapes my skin. "In the thousand years I've been stuck on this plane, I've learned something about you humans."

"Yeah, what's that?" I sneer, shying away from the blade.

"You all have one weakness in common." An orange glow emanates from the cracks in his demon form, his red eyes burning brighter. He studies me intently, then lifts his nose and inhales a deep, satisfied breath. When he settles his gaze on me, I suppress a shiver. "Love."

"Love is not a weakness," I grit out before clenching my teeth when another stab of pain in my thigh radiates up my leg. I'm growing dizzy. The demon pats my cheek. "Don't pass out on me now. I'm nowhere near done with you."

I fix my heavy eyes on him, and he stands up. "Love is not a weakness? Are you sure?"

I don't grace him with a response.

"Then you won't mind if I kill your boyfriend."

Fear stretches across my chest before I can stop it. "You won't kill him."

"No?" He rounds the table and drags the knife through the wood. "That's a bold statement."

" I'll have nothing left to fight for if you kill the last person I care about. Nothing would be stopping me from ending it, like my mom. What are you going to do then, huh?"

"Do you think so little of your own life?"

"Without love, I have nothing."

"What about your adoptive mother?"

Shit. I hoped he'd forgotten about her.

"Do you not love her? She's not strong, like you, but I bet she's pretty when begging for her life."

I open my mouth to respond, when my eyes land on the gun on the floor. I must have dropped it when he whacked me in the head with the frying pan. "I'm not playing this game with you," I tell him, pretending to sit straighter. "We both know you'll kill her too. You're a demon. You won't stop until you've killed everyone I've ever cared about." I inch closer to the weapon while he carves something on the table. I'm so close. It's just within reach. My fingers graze the cold metal. I just need to stretch a little closer.

The demon looks up, so I snatch my hand back, forming a fist to stop the trembling from showing. I've never felt my heart pound this hard before. There's no way in hell he can't hear it.

I swallow thickly as he walks around the table toward me. When he's in front of me, he holds his arm out and puts the blade to the corded muscle on the inside of his forearm. "Your boyfriend can still feel pain." I gasp as he slowly drags the knife through the skin.

Not a flicker of emotion passes through his eyes, but I know in my heart that Dominic can feel every second of agony. I know he's screaming. I know it because I feel it in my soul.

I can't stop the tears from falling when he puts the knife inches away from the first cut and repeats the process. The skin cleaves like butter, and blood pours down his arm. I can't look anymore, so I force my eyes shut, but the insistent sound of blood dripping on the floor makes me sick to my stomach. I swallow down vomit.

He shifts and warm droplets of blood splatter against my bare legs. I recoil, hot pain exploding in my thigh at the sudden movement.

"Dominic would like you to have his heart." He peels his shirt off, and it slides down his arm, before he pulls it off the rest of the way and discards it on the floor. I slam a hand against my mouth when I see the deep, ugly gash on his side. What the fuck happened to him? My stomach cramps again. I try to keep it down, but it's useless. Vomit flies from my mouth as I shift onto my side, my stomach convulsing.

"Oh, that," he says, inspecting the wound. "It's not as deep as it looks."

When I'm finally able to breathe normally again, the demon hovers over me, shirtless and covered in blood. He digs the blade's sharp tip against the left pectoral, a bead of crimson rushing to the surface and trailing a slow path over his rippling muscles. "Dominic, please," I plead, chest aching as I cry out with desperation. "I know you can hear me. You have to fight the demon. You have to force it out. I can defeat it." I shift, wincing as my leg aches. "But not if it's in you."

"Defeat me?" The demon laughs a rich, dark sound. "How exactly do you plan on defeating me? You can't even put weight on your leg."

As if to prove his point, he puts his foot on my thigh, and a tortured scream claws my vocal cords.

"Now, let's carve out your boyfriend's heart while you watch. If you're lucky, it might still beat for you." He digs the blade deeper, and more blood rushes to the surface. Despite the blinding pain in my thigh, I launch myself at the gun, which slides forward, just out of reach.

The demon skates his eyes to the weapon and chuckles. "You think a gun can defeat me?"

I drag myself forward to grab the weapon, my fingers closing around the metal, and time slows as I roll over onto my back and aim the gun at his chest. "I'm sorry, Dominic."

And then I pull the trigger.