“No.”
I see the sky for a second before I’m staring at tree trunks again. He rolled his eyes. My eyes?Soconfusing.
“Can’t say I expected a different response. Fine. It’s simple. You’re not asleep. You’ve been possessed.”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “Possessed? What do you mean ‘possessed?’”
“I’m a demon. I’ve possessed you.”
I open my mouth then close it. No. That can’t be right. I verify, “I’m not sleeping?”
“Nope. Possessed.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Prove it,” I spit.
“Uh, you being stuck in a prison of your own mind and me controlling your body is proof enough. Are we good?”
I don’t even have time to process this before I start yelling again. “No, we are notgood! Get out! I did not consent to beingpossessed!”
The scene before me moves side to side, like I’m weighing my head. “Well, technically, you did consent.”
My fists squeeze tightly enough that my nails will leave impressions in my palms. Or, they would in the outside world. Carefully, I stress, “I’m sorry, I don’t recall being a part of that conversation. Did you say, ‘Hey, Lacy, may I please possess you?’ and did I say, ‘Sure, Mr. Demon, come on in?’ Nope. Don’t recall.”
Possessed? Possessed. I’ve beenpossessed? I havenotbeenpossessed. Impossible.
“You are correct. We did not have that conversation. You did consent, though. Legally. You know the Terms and Conditions everyone doesn’t read when signing up for anything online? You consented when you signed up for some social media site back in 2013.”
“That’s bullshit,” I snip.
“I don’t write the contracts.”
“I don’t care. Let me out of it.”
“No.”
“But…” My fists squeeze tighter as I long for that pinch of pain refusing to break through—something to wake me up, snap me out of this.
“But what?” he prods sharply.
I have a long list of buts, however, the one that feels the most important slips from my lips. “I promised I would call my sister today.” The thought of her rakes pain through my chest.
He…I…westand, and I watch my hands brush the forest floor off my jeans. “I’ll shoot her a text.”
My voice cracks in desperation as I beg, “No, but I have tocallher. I promised. You have to let me go so I can call her.Please.”
“No. Sorry. I’ve explained the situation. Now, I’m done. Stop talking.”
The window slams shut again. With a grunt, I immediately yank it back open. He has to let me go. I need to figure out a way. Perhaps if I annoy him enough, he’ll un-possess me.
Possessed. I’ve beenpossessed. I’m a believer in the supernatural world—of course, I am. I’m a ghost hunter. But this…this is too much for me to comprehend.
We continue walking through the forest. An intuitive part of my brain can sense his movements, his expressions, even if I can’t see them nor am mirroring them from in the void. This body is mine, and I know what it’s doing, even if I am not the one controlling it.
I clear my throat, knowing that begging and crying will get me nowhere. I have to fight. “Are you hiking? Is that what’s happening right now? A little demonic frolic through the woods?”
