THE DEMON

You were a regular person in a religious little town. Where everyone prayed until noon, ate zero meat during lent, but fucked everyone until they couldn’t walk then blame it on some Devil.

You were not like the others.

You were refined. You didn’t care about religion. And you certainly have never been in any intimate relationship before. It is depressing, yes, but relieving.

It was now night. You walked up into your small bedroom, which was cozy. It had a wood-framed bed with white silky sheets and covers decorated with lace, a desk scattered with presents from closed-off neighbors, none of which you liked, as well as two bed-stands on each side of your bed and a mirror just above the desk.

You crawled into bed, before you suddenly heard a voice.

”Father, do you even like those neighbors? Always so fucking boring, leaving your town a mess, and fucking like horn-dogs everywhere while you lay on your bed as some small, measly person?”

You laid still in bed as you heard the voice. Father? That was such an odd nickname. But you had an idea of what the voice, whoever it belonged to, was talking about. You had been, briefly, the priest at the small, nearly abandoned church a few years ago. It was a shame that the voice brought it up. It was a very miserable time in your life.

”Father, Father, oh, Father, when will the fucking wine be blessed? When will they listen to you?”

It spoke playfully, as if it were making an inside joke. A very, very weird inside joke. Just what was its deal? You clung onto the pillow on one of your sides, wishing the voice will go away. But it won’t leave you now. You are trapped in your predicament.