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I try don't make it a habit, however the screams of the self inflicted punishment got bored at some point. Demons doesn't want to be there more than needed to find a new body to posses.

I love the rebel smart kids with their way of making everyone on the family hate them. "I am smarter, you idiots." And they are pretty much right.

It's their parents job to take care of them and they pretty much know it. They can look at the world and see how people act and put it into boxes overseeing what other will do next.

Genius observer. The lonely boys and girls who is a piece of other board game. With them I just need say the right words and the deal is done.

"Why would you want it? Why people like me?"

Oh Charles. Don't you see? Look around. Everyone is now eating at your hands, catch in a web of manipulation that even if they find out it is already too late.

"So you want to me see myself destroying my family?"

No, I am more amusing in showing you what you could've become if you were a bit smarter. Because now, it doesn't matter, it's not you, it's me acting like you. The one who thought your mind is a prison. So look from that prison, look of what me, using what you know to achieve success.

I want you to see what you lost.

"Why?! Why are you doing it with me?!"

You are smart Charles, you will figure out, until there, please, take a sit and let me show you a true life of success you lost for nothing.

I suppose I see them a lot. In my position, that is.

Both the Boys from Below and the Girls from Above. Not sure why it breaks down that way. Suppose it could be some agreement they’ve made. Or just natural inclination. Guess it’s not really my place to wonder.

It is what it is.

The Boys from Below are the easy ones to spot. See a lot of ‘em in AA, the ones that have some ‘epiphany’ moment, and turn their life around. Often get their wives and children and whatnot coming up to thank me. “Not me,” I’d tell them. “It’s all on his head.”

Or they’re the ones coming back to my church after saying they’d never darken the doorstep ever again. All contrite, and apologetic.

Oh, yes. The church is a big haven for them. Think about it. Escaping a bit of a bad situation, ya know. They generally find sanctuary in a place as far from their… home… as they can.

Same reason they turn their lives around. Well, their hosts’ lives. Same difference, really.

Don’t wanna go back. Can’t say I blame ‘em, neither.

Nah, nah. They’re just here to make something of themselves. Something better.

See, it’s the other side’s ‘guests’ ya gotta be careful about.

No, see. Up above, it’s full of rules.

Regulations. Directives. Commandments. Whatever you wants ta call ‘em.

And they get down here, and what do they find? Anarchy. Pure, sweet, and simple anarchy.

So, they latch onto whatever system of rules they can. To a rather… unnatural extent, you could say.

Doesn’t matter what the rules are for, or how just they are. Only matters that they are followed. MLMs, HOAs, local politics, and then some.

Anyways, that’s why I cannot, in good conscious, allow this marriage to take place.

I mean, Jim-Bob here is an ex-drug dealin’, child beatin’, dog sniffin’ bastard, possessed by one of the ranking demons from hell…

And Karen, he’s just too damn good fer the likes of you!

Nice.

"Father, I must confess something to you..."

I sat in the silence of the cathedral for hours contemplating how to go about my next move, waiting for everyone to just leave so I could lie, but I knew if I didn't it would only be a matter of time before I was found out. We take the Catholics, the priests, the virgins. It's our whole gig. Inflict the most pain by tempting the most devout. But this one was easier to get into. The fit was better, you could say. A dejected daughter of a devout family. A lesbian, go figure. Catholic in name only, as to not upset her folks.

She hadn't come out to them, had kept her head down and came to service every sunday. It's so much easier to climb into the bodies of those lacking faith. They fight less. No prayers to be saved and the like. But they're insistent I go to church. I must confess my sins because I'll burn for eternity if I don't. What a laugh. I sat around hoping I could lie about doing confessional but every blue hair in the pews knows exactly who I am. Don't they have somewhere to be? They've been here all day. A lie is no good if it can be easily disputed.

Needless to say, I needed everyone to think this one was an upstanding member of the church or I won't make a bang. Defeats the purpose.

Suddenly, above the soft jingling of rosaries and murmurs of prayer arose the sound of the massive doors creaking to life. The priest has come out of his cloister. "Shit" I groaned. Off to the booths he went, the little old lady in front of me turns to look at me as if she knew. No one else stood for confession and as I considered just booking it, the hag sharply whispered "Go on. I'll go after you."

Fuck. I grabbed my bag, filled with trinkets that made an awful clatter as it shifted. I gave away my position with keys and cell phone charms. What awful things these humans carry. As I stood I attempted to move my tail below my skirt, forgetting it's not even there anymore. Now I look like I've caressed my own rump and tried to cover for it by straightening my skirt. Why is everyone looking at me? Nosey vermin. I trotted off to the booth in a hurry, rattling and clanking the whole way. Why do I make so much noise?! Even the door to the confessional is so loud. Why are the chairs in here solid wood? Is this actually a torture chamber?

My thoughts interrupted by the sliding of a panel, the priest indicating he's ready to listen...

Haha perfect. I love it.

I lean back into the hot, soapy water, closing my eyes and taking in the scents of the candles I had lit. Lauren's phone lays on the bathroom counter, playing her Spotify playlist on shuffle. I had expected to hate her taste in music, but I actually quite enjoy it. I lather my (Lauren's) hair with shampoo and start working out the knots.

Lauren hasn't had the motivation to shower for days. I'm not exactly sure what she was going through, but I figured a nice bath with all the bells and whistles would do her good. Next, I'll start cleaning her room, and then the rest of the house eventually.

Honestly, when I first possessed Lauren yesterday, I wasn't sure if I could handle it. Her house is a mess, her fridge and pantry are rather bare, and there's a bunch of unread texts and emails and missed calls on her phone, from people she probably hasn't talked to in days if not longer. Whatever she's been dealing with mentally, it seems pretty bad. I wasn't sure if this life was actually better than where I had come from. I considered leaving and finding someone else to possess.

But I figured I'd give it a shot anyway. And I came to like Lauren quite quickly, despite not knowing much about her. It seems like she could use a little help, so I thought I'd try treating her to that self-care humans talk about. And honestly, I could get used to this. I'm going to help Lauren however I can. I know I won't be able to stay here long, but I hope she'll appreciate it.

“Possession is a lot harder than the movies would have you believe, kid. Have you ever thought about it? I mean, pulling off a convincing switcharoo? Satan forbid your target is a CEO or some super scientist, or some other career oriented person with responsibilities. And if they have family? Friends? That’s a lot of threads, each of which could be pulled to unravel your ruse. That’s why you’ve got to pick your target carefully.”

Azirowley poured the orange juice into a tall glass, and slid it across the table. The child grabbed the glass with two tiny hands.

“Is that why you picked my Daddy?”

The demon stiffened. The young ones didn’t usually learn subtly, yet. He’d forgotten that.

He’d also forgotten how fucking BIG their eyes were, compared to the rest of their tiny bodies. Honestly, children were fucking freakish. And the gaze of those bright, brown eyes burned him like a hot spring of holy water.

The demon turned his back to the child, and tended to the stove. The pancakes would be ready soon.

“Yes.” Azirowley replied, deciding a direct question warranted a direct answer. A lazy wave of a hand, and the child’s emptied glass was full again.

“No employment, no friends, cut off all his ties to his siblings and parents— all the less people to notice if something was suddenly odd. Takes the pressure off of passing.”

“Except me and Mommy.”

“Except you and your mother, yes. Now, hold out your plate.”

The demon faced the child, frying pan in hand. The child lifted her plate. Her arms bowed with the weight of the stack of pancakes Azirowley unceremoniously plopped down.

“Your dad was, respectfully, a scumbag. A real lowlife. I’ve seen a lot, kid. Between you and me, I’m 6000 years old.” Azirowley poured an extremely generous amount of syrup over the stack of pancakes. A small shaker materialized in front of the child’s eyes, seemingly out of nowhere. Her eyebrows shot up. The girl looked to the demon, as if for an explanation. Azirowley smiled.

“Professionals have standards, and all that.”

Azirowley tapped the bottom of the shaker, and coated the syrup in powdered sugar. A snap of the fingers later, strawberry slices winked into reality on top.

“Now, eat up. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

The child stared at the demon. Her decadent breakfast went untouched.

“Hey, kid? For Satan’s sake, you’re creeping me out, staring at me like that! What, got something to say?” Azirowley flopped himself into the chair next to the child, and returned the girl’s stare.

“See how you like it, some bug-eyed creature lookin’ into your soul.”

Something wrinkled and stretched across the girls face. She turned her eyes to the magical breakfast. With a fork, she poked and pushed the plate. She looked back to Azirowley through the corners of her eyes.

“You’re… not going to hurt us.”

It was Azirowley’s turn for something to wrinkle and stretch across his face. The child turned her body to face him, and continued.

“If you wanted to hurt me or Mommy, you would’ve done it already. Like Daddy would’ve.” She tilted her head. “But… you haven’t. You make me food. You make Mommy laugh. You keep the big men away.” The girl picked a strawberry slice from off the top of the pancakes and popped it into her mouth.

“You must be a pretty shitty demon.” She concluded.

Azirowley barked with laughter, and nearly fell out of his chair from doubling over.

“I like you, kid!” Laughter peeling off, the demon settled back down in his seat.

“You’re wicked smart, you know that?” A mischievous glint in the girl’s eyes answered him back, as she stuffed her mouth with strawberries and sugar. There might’ve even been a smile somewhere on that face.

“And you’re right. I don’t target children, not my thing. And your mother, she’s done nothing wrong. Now, I’m a demon— but even I don’t attack without reason.” He leaned in.

“As long as I am occupying this vessel— er, as long as I look like your Daddy— I will do my best to not let you or your mother get hurt. Satan’s sake, you’ve been though enough already. Okay?”

The girl furrowed her brow, pondering his statement. Azirowley could see the wheels turning in her head. How a shitbag like his vessel could have such a delightful child, he had no idea.

“Okay.” The girl jutted her chin, and held out a syrupy, sugary hand. “You use Daddy as a vessel, and keep me and Mommy safe. Deal.”

A smile spread across Azirowley’s face. Without hesitation, the demon moved to take the child’s hand in his. But at the last minute, the girl drew back her hand.

“On one more condition.”

Azirowley’s eyebrows shot up his forehand. He was still leaning forward, his hand frozen from the would-be shake. The girl’s hand was up next to the side of her face.

“I’m listening.”

“When you go? When you don’t need Daddy’s body anymore?” The child looked at him with those big brown eyes, bright and sharp as a flaming sword.

“Don’t let him come back. Drag him to hell and keep him there.” The girl’s hand came back to Azirowley’s. With a chuckle, he gave her hand a gentle shake.

“Kid, it would be my pleasure. Deal, you little menace!”

The demon swooped up the child with a flourish, eliciting delighted shrieks that rang throughout the desolate, run down kitchen.

Yeah. He had a good feeling about this.

I can see this as a series

While those unrepentant in town are devoured. It would fit right in with "Supernatural" with Sam and Dean going, "You know what? I'm good." "Yeah me too."

“Stop! Leave him alone!”

“That’s not your dad, little girl—“

“I know!”

“—Wait, huh?”

“Ugh, move!”

The girl rushed past the two, giant men. She kneeled on the ground, and furiously tore through her side bag. The fallen man groaned— very much alive, very, very much in pain.

“Shit, shit, shit, it should be here, somewhere— stay with me, Azzi! Azzi!”

“mhhhhughhhhhhh”

“Uh, Dean? You seeing this?” Sam whispered to his brother.

“Don’t move. You’ve done enough already.” The young woman glared at the taller man. Her words came out only slightly less feral than a growl. “Ah! Got it!”

Triumphant, she lifted her hand into the air— a small, green vial in her grasp.

“You’re gonna be just fine, Azzi. Heads up, though— this is going to hurt.”

“hhhhhhhhgnnhg”

“That’s what we like to hear.” The teen chuckled, tears in her eyes. Her smile was paper thin. She uncorked the vial and, with shaking hands, began to apply the contents.

“hhhHAAAGKK! FUCKFUCKOW—“

“I know, I know, it was a holy blade, of course it was going to fuck you up—“

“AUGHhH, FOR SATAN’S SAKE, GHAHHH—“

“Honestly, the fuck were you thinking?! Going up against the Winchester Brothers?! You dumbass demon!”

Vial emptied, the teen slumped down. Crumpled, actually. She’d run out of energy hours ago, and had been running on pure, fear-induced adrenaline since.

“I thought I was going to lose you.” Her voice was so tiny, Dean struggled to hear it. “Never scare me like that again.”

Confident her guardian was not, in fact, about to die after all, the teen turned to the other two men in the room.

“Lilith—“ Sam tried to start.

“Stop. Just, stop.” The teen lifted a hand. Face scrunched up, eyes closed, her entire body vibrating with tension, Lilith took a deep breath.

“I will explain everything.”

Trigger warning for domestic abuse, spoiler for everyone’s mental health.

>!Lately, Dad’s been acting… weird. He’s stopping drinking, stopped yelling, stopped hitting. Lily and I are both kinda freaking out, Mom’s just been euphoric. She tells us to just enjoy it while it lasts, but I don’t buy it.!<

>!He’s acted like this with her before, I’ve heard. When they were first married, he loved her all up. Bought her expensive gifts, took her on lavish vacations, gave her complements, and never touched a drop of alcohol. That all ended with me. Once she got pregnant, they decided to settle down. He had to get a stable job which he hated, so he started drinking. First it was a beer or two after work, then a six pack every day, but after he started drinking whiskey, that’s when he got bad. At least, that’s what Mom told me, I was too young to remember the times when he was good.!<

>!My oldest memory is of him screaming at Mom, then throwing a flask at her head. I can still hear my little voice telling him to stop hurting her, I can still feel the pain when he smacked me across the face. I was three. When I was five, Dad didn’t bother to buy new condoms after his old pack expired, and that’s how I got myself a little sister. I love my sister, ever since she was born I’ve risked everything for her. Ever since I could, I’ve taken most of the beatings for her. I would die for her. !<

>!About a month ago, Dad changed. He just went to sleep one night and woke up different. His personality is totally different, it’s nice, too nice. He talks all sweet, but I’m convinced this is some sort of crazy trick, some sort of ploy to keep me from going to the cops once I get out. I won’t be fooled though, just two more years then I’m leaving and only coming back for Lily.!<

>!timeskip!<

>!That’s not Dad, that’s some sort of demon wearing Dad’s skin, but I don’t care. The demon is more of a father than Dad ever was. He took us to a baseball game as a family the other day, and last week he took Lily for icecream after she got a good grade on a test. Dad never cared about our grades, and that was the first time Lily had icecream in her life. I… don’t think I could make it on my own, not to mention while taking care of my sister. Before, anything was better than staying with Dad, but now? He’s actually acting like a good person, a good husband, and a good father.!<

>!‘How do I know he’s not Dad?’, you ask. Well, have I got a story for you. The only weird, at least by normal standards, thing that he does that he didn’t before, is that he disappears on the full moon. As soon as the moon comes up and the sky gets dark, he disappears, only coming back with the sun. One full moon, I happened to be sitting out on the porch, and I saw him materialize. He just… appeared out of thin air. His irises were blood red, and the whites of his eyes were just the opposite. His hands were like claws, his ears were pointed, and I could’ve sworn I saw horns poking out from his less-greasy-than-before hair. No, I don’t take a picture, I don’t even have a phone. I did tell Lily, though, how could I not?!<

>!I don’t know what I’m going to do, he seems nice enough, but I don’t take chances, not when it comes to Lily. He could be sucking out all our souls and I wouldn’t have a clue. You know what? He can have my soul, I don’t care about myself anymore, but if that thing lays a hand on her, I’m breaking out the holy water.!<

I love this. Is the Demon’s name a Good Omens combo?

That's what I'm talking about!

Love this! I'd love to read more if you end up writing more

Angels and demons , both want out , you would think heaven and hell would be ideal for them but apparently it’s so mundane for them they just want out. I was sent to limbo , the in between due to , well , let’s call it a “clerical” error and eventually got picked up to be a broker of sorts for vacations for them, lots of jobs out in limbo , this one just seemed to work for me.

You see when someone gets possessed in the mortal world , be they by a demon or a angel it’s mostly just a vacation for the the possessor. And oh boy it surprises me sometimes what they choose to do , Leonardo da Vinci and Einstein were both possessed by the same demon even , really smart chap at that. Most of the time the vessel is possessed young for the “full” experience but occasionally we get some mid life possessions. You know the deal , some aspiring star suddenly sinks there whole career stupidly , you know the one, that was an Angel (sorry NDA can’t say who) that wanted to party a bit to hard.

It isn’t so black and white in the end , some demons do great things , turn peoples lives around , some drag them down further so they can torment them , same for the angels, two of the most atrocious possessions I saw were angels , got this one guy right after he got kicked out of art school and well , let’s just say us here in limbo did not see that coming.

But that’s the Beauty of it all , what they do during the vacation is off the records , only those of us In limbo really know , and sadly we can never leave really either , we can get the comforts of a human life for eternity though just to put some time in working.

My next client is coming in now so I guess I will have to finish this journal later

"Geeez, Tommy, it's freezing in here! Stop turning the AC all the way up!"

Tommy was seated on the couch, shirtless as usual. He was surrounded by 3, no, 4 glasses of ice water. "Sorry, Theresa. I didn't realize you'd be home so early. Go ahead and turn it up. If you have to."

I walked over to my brother and put my hand on his forehead. "Do you have a fever? You never liked the cold so much before." A deep bark of laughter came out of his mouth at that. "Damn, dude, where'd that come from?" "Sorry-you caught me right in the middle of a belch."

"Ewwwww! You're a pig!" At that I carried my schoolbooks down the hall to my bedroom. My glasses fogged up. It felt like it was about to snow. "Turn it up, Tommy! Or I'm telling mom!"

"Yeah, yeah. Tattletale." "I heard that!" I slammed my door and got out of my school uniform. So much for shorts, I'd be changing into my winter sweatpants today.

I opened my bottom dresser drawer. It was empty. As was every other drawer. What the actual hell? I opened my closet. Nothing.

"What the hell, Tommy!!!! WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!!!" A low growl reached me from the living room where my brother continued to play a video game.

"I told you! I donated them!"

Oh Jesus Christ. This again? Tommy'd gotten religion back during the summer. Our parents were regularly replacing clothes, appliances, and food that Saint Tommy was taking upon himself to distribute the the needy.

"God DAMN it, Tommy!" I'd just stepped out of my bedroom and suddenly an enraged teenage boy had me by the throat.

"YOU WILL NOT take the Lord's name in vain, mortal!"

Noticed that too!

Dang nabbit this made my eyes hurt, who is slicing onions around here!!!!

Yes! I couldn’t come up with a demon name on the spot, so I just smooshed the two together.

Fantastic

Great switcheroo - well done

Brilliant starter - I thought this was it, then I saw some more! Thank you!

> “Professionals have standards.”

be polite, be efficient, have a plan to kill everyone you meet

This! Quick response to the suggestion, and beautifully written. 'paper thin smile' - that got me

This! Quick response to the suggestion, and beautifully written. 'paper thin smile' - that got me

Those dang onion ninjas

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That's the best way to make names!

Part 2?

I wretch my hands and take a deep breath...

"Father, I have something to confess..."

I feel sweaty and cold at the same time, my hands slick. Surely this is actual torture.

"Yes, my child" softly spoken from behind the thin wall, laced with carvings throughout.

"I'm uncomfortable" I murmur.

"Surely that isn't what you've come here to tell me" He chuckled.

Dastardly man. What do you confess even? What's a sin so mild I can bring it up but not be condemned? The human is gay, but that's a big sin to the humans, no? That'll make me look bad. I can tell the silence is growing too long, so I quickly blurt out the first thing that comes to mind:

"I KICKED THE CAT! Uh, well, no. I tripped. I tripped on the cat!" Oh God damn it...

"Was this an accident?"

"Well I didn't see him. He blends in with the dark. I was going upstairs and it's so dark." Do I even own a cat? I haven't even had the body that long. The first few weeks in these things are hazy.

"Have you apologized to the cat? Have you asked for forgiveness in prayer? I doubt he blames you for an honest mistake, they're as smart as the devil."

I sense he's about to go full scripture on me. Undoubtedly there is a verse about cats in their silly book. I can't have him preaching to me all day. I'm getting hungry and these things are always hungry. If you don't eat they make awful noises. I've decided I need to make a hasty exit before he begins.

"I haven't. I haven't apologized to the cat. I'll head straight home and do that now!" I exclaim as I grab my miserable satchel of racket.

"Of course, my chi--" I cut him off as I bolted out of the booth.

"Okay. Home. We're going home. Which way is home? Human, you've got to tell me where I'm going, I need to feed you." To the left, idiot. "Oh, aren't you a peach today." I want bacon. "Are you even allowed to have that?" That's jews, you ass. "God, never leave this shell, you're a wealth of information. Where do you want to go for bacon?"

"WENDY'S" I hear rattle like an explosion within me.

Okay, we'll go to wendy's...

I honestly kind of like her, you know. She's feisty but doesn't hate me being around. She hungers like a beast from the pits, though. Her taste in food is pretty good, but I am entirely certain what we ate will be the death of us. I may just stay a bit longer. Just for a little while...

No, I'm not actually a demon. I understand why you'd think that, though, perfectly reasonable mistake, really. All those black-robed cultists, the hornless goat, the knives and the candles... I get it, I really do.

I'm sorry, this water is so good. Could I have some more please?

Thank you. It's the little things you miss in Hell; water, food, air that doesn't scorch or freeze your lungs. At least I assume it was Hell. Seemed like a safe assumption, what with all the burning hot sand dunes, the burning lakes of pitch, the damned souls wandering eternally tormented by hunger and thirst, heat and cold, etc. That's just the parts I saw, of course. Not sure if the fuck-off massive mountains with the eternal snowstorms on the peaks were real, or just a mirage. Walked for literally months to reach one, but I never did. Counted the days, but I lost count eventually. No idea how long I was down there. Years, presumably. What's the date, anyway?

Huh. Wow. Narnia time, I guess.

Anyway, yeah, pretty sure it was Hell. I never did see a demon, though.

Saw plenty of people. Human, presumably. I didn't always have a chance to talk; some of them were completely batshit crazy and dangerous. Most just wanted to talk. Not much else to do down there, I guess.

What was I doing there? Honestly, I don't know. At first I figured it was because I'm an atheist.

Go ahead and smirk if you like. I met plenty of Christians down there too. They all claimed to be good, holy, genuine Christians who lived good faithful lives. I had my doubts about some of them, but all of them? Honestly, I don't know.

Yes, it was awful. You're already dead, so you can't die of hunger or thirst. Injuries that would kill or cripple you heal, eventually. Minor injuries... don't. The days are fucking hot, the nights are fucking freezing, the sand blows constantly... I don't think Hell needs demons, really. Although there were some people down there trying to fill the role, so to speak. Pretty sure they were human, though. I don't think that demons sob like babies when they torture you, or weep while they puke up chunks of your flesh.

Yes, it was Hell. Of course it was awful. What did you expect? Why do you think I took a chance on coming back? I saw the light, like a roving spotlight, and I just ran for it as fast as my half-shredded feet could carry me. I had no idea what it was, but I could hear people chanting, and I figured that anything was better than this.

No, I have no idea who this guy was. It's why I was admiring myself in your mirror, there; sorry if I freaked anyone out. I can't see through the one-way mirror or anything like that, I just wanted to see what I look like now.

What happened? I flew up the light like it was an alien tractor beam, and next thing I know, here I am, in a chalk circle, surrounded by flabbergasted people in robes.

Honestly, I don't think they expected it to work. I'm not complaining, though. I don't care if you keep me in a containment cell for the rest of my life; as long as you feed me, anything's better than Hell.

No? Seriously, I'm free to go after the probationary period?!? Oh my god, thank you. I just assumed you were like the SCP Foundation or something... you don't know what that is? Don't even worry about it. Look, I promise I'll be the bestest, most nicest model citizen ever. The last thing I ever want to do is go back down there.

That was excellent, good job!

THE EXORCIST

Father Devlin thought this was just another crank call until the hairstood straight up on the back of his neck. The heavyness in the airmade him feel like a deep sea diver, the smell of sulfur made him wantto retch. The feeling that all of his senses were telling him thatthings were wrong here all added up to one thing: 2125 SpringboardLane had gone to Hell.

He carefully climbed the steps to the front porch, but without hesitation knocked.

"Just a minute!" a muffled, gravelly voice said from behind the door. It opened just a crack, just enough to let a malevolent, glowing red eye peer out."Oh, good, it's you," the same gravelly voice said, and the dooropened wide.

The doorway was filled by a sweet-faced granny, and if you could ignore the glowing red eyes and the fact that she floated a good half foot off the ground you would swear she was actually glad an exorcist landed on her doorstep.

"Who is it, Mom?" a voice called from the back rooms.

"It's that nice Father Devlin, dear," Demon Granny called back. She belched, and a spurt of hellfire and sulfur escaped her lips. "Oh, excuse me, Father," it said, "we've been making Angel food cake in the kitchen. Come on back and have a slice!" She turned in one smooth motion and floated silently to the back of the house.

Father Devlin entered carefully, looking in every dark corner. He turned back to the door, and closed it softly when it didn't slam shut by itself. He hurried to the kitchen.

The kitchen was a scene of domestic bliss, if you could ignore the flour and spices and bowls and measuring spoons flying around. A 30 something woman sat at a small table with an infant, and a six year old tow headed boy stood next to 'grandma' with a maniac smile on his face. "Father Devlin!" he called, "Granny's been possessed by a demon, and she's the best ever now!"

"I appreciate your vote of confidence, young man, but you must know that I'm just using you for my own evil purposes," granny said. She sighed and gave the boy a pat on the head. "And you know that this is my last day here."

"NO!" the boy screamed, and grabbed granny by the leg. "No, you're the best thing that's ever happened to us! I won't let you go!" He began to sob uncontrollably. "Are you really here to do an exorcism, Father?" the woman said. "My real mother is quite a cunt, and this 'devil', well, I have to say that without it's help the kids and I would not have made it this year."

"If all of you are so intent on this thing staying, who called me?" Father Devlin said.

"I dropped that dime on myself, Father," granny said. "It's really very simple. We're not allowed to leave Hell. Ever. The ones that do leave are punished, but punishment is waived if they have committed acts of unspeakable evil while lose, and the worst one is possession."

"Looks like you've checked the boxes, if I can use that expression," Father Devlin said, folding his hands.

"Not exactly. My time's up, there's a Reclamation Squad coming for me. They're not that smart, but they will take note of all the happy smiling faces here in this house. My punishment will be...most severe."

Father Devlin's eyes widened. "Unless you're exorcised?" he finished.

"Exactly," granny said. "Being exorcised is a badge of honor Down Below. I'll be responsible for my own accounting and I'll lie my ass off." 'Granny' chuckled. "I'll even get points for that."

"But..." the good Father said, looking at the tearful faces. Granny laughed good naturedly.

"If I had been as much of a prick as I wanted to be, you would have been called within a week. This way I got a whole year to chill. I even figured out how to make Toll House cookies using nothing but hellfire." The malevolent laugh made the hairs stand up on Father Devlin's head. Again. "Nothing tortures the grunts more than something nice made from something of pure evil." Granny thought for a moment and added, "I'm going to have to experiment with brownies next." The small boy sobbed harder. Granny gave him a hug, and floated over to the woman and hugged her.

"It's been fun, guys. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything." She took Father Devlin by the arm and moved him smartly upstairs. "Honey, the Father and I are going to do our thing in the guest bedroom, so you don't have to do demolition on it, just get James next door to help clear the debris!" grandma said. There was just a muffled acknowledgment from the kitchen below.

They entered the guest bedroom. The door closed by itself. "I wonder if you could do something for the people downstairs, if you could," granny said. The hairs moved again on the back of Father Devlin's neck.

"Oh, and what is that?" he said. "Well, you see, the kids downstairs have been living here rent free for the last year, and that dear woman is almost back on her feet. Almost." The fiend from Hell paused.

"Go on," Father Devlin said.

"Well, you don't possess someone for a year without learning a few things about them. And I may have let the old bitch know what I was up to. Needless to say, she'll be mad as hell when I'm gone."

Butterflies began to stir in Father Devvlin's stomach. "Does this story have a point?" he said.

"If granny lives, she'll kick them to the curb, and I guarantee it will be a disaster for those poor kids down there." the Thing from Hell said, sweetly.

Father Devlin's eyes narrowed to slits. "I'm not going to kill her after you're gone," he said.

"Nobody said 'kill', now did they?" the demon laughed. "No, I've been stuffing this old bird with bacon, snack cakes, and processed frozen dinners for the last year. I've spent a fortune on cigarettes, too. She's got one foot in the grave and the other on a roller skate. The stress of the exorcism will give her a heart attack." The entity thumped it's chest. "A really big one, too, if I'm not mistaken." She laughed and leaned in close to the good Father. The smell of putrificaiton was hot on her breath.

"No, my dear, all you have to do is wait ten minutes after the heartbeat goes. No more. No less." She backed away, and folded her hands, and waited.

"That's...that's diabolical!" Father Devlin said. "

Thank you, we try. Now, shall we get started? This room isn't going to destroy itself!"

END

Awesome!