The Demon II by Tim Baker

The Demon by Tim Baker

The darkness was complete, relieved only by intermittent flashes of white brilliance followed by thunder claps that would silence a freight train. The rain threatened to tear the skin from my bones.
I couldn’t run anymore. I couldn’t imagine an agony worse than my own heart exploding from a combination of terror and exhaustion.
I stumbled through an eternal void until my head struck my own tombstone.
Rolling onto my back I confronted the demon that pursued me.
There was no silver bullet to save me and no wooden stake to drive through its heart.
I was my only weapon and I had nothing left to fight with.
The voice came through the black void and drowned out the thunder.
“It’s time.”
I tried to resist the bony fingers that gripped my shoulder. I screamed an incomprehensible protest.
The skeletal vise tightened as I tried to retreat into the tombstone behind me.
“Resistance will only cause more suffering,” the voice from beyond the grave said.
Thunder roared as the rain pelted me.
Somewhere in the distance voices cried for mercy as the demon reached for other souls.
I heard mine the loudest.
The demon thrust a sword into my hand. Against my wishes, my fingers curled around the beautifully carved handle.
Lightning ricocheted off the gleaming razor-sharp edge, mesmerizing me and draining my will to fight, surely something so perfectly crafted would not harm me.
Acting on its own volition my hand raised the lustrous blade over my throbbing chest.
The demon’s laugh pierced my ears and reverberated through my skull.
“Gaze on the beauty that will carve a piece of your soul for me,” it cried with perverse delight.
A scream died in my throat, my depleted body strained to summon whatever strength was left.
The blade moved closer to my chest. With every inch my will to fight lessened and the demon’s screams of pleasure soared.
Summoning the last of my strength, I looked into the eyes of the demon.
“It is pointless,” the demon roared over the thunder. “You are unable to fight me. You will be mine.”
I stared defiantly into his icy black eyes. The longer I locked eyes with him the more strength I found.
The knife stopped its journey and hovered above my chest, a small victory that gave me the will to continue the battle.
I forced the blade higher, my strength increased and I regained the ability to speak.
“I will not surrender,” I told the demon.
The demon grew quiet. The rain stopped. The lightning and the thunder seemed to move away.
I could feel the demon’s fear. I had only to release the handle of the sword and I would be free.
“Do not let go,” the demon begged weakly.
“You will not take me tonight,” I said.
I released my grip on the blade as the sun broke through the clouds. The sword vanished.
The demon retreated with the darkness.
I stood and raised my face to the warmth of the sun. I was fearless. I had the energy of ten men.
The demon was gone. I had beaten him off and survived the ordeal. I was free.
It has been a long time since I defeated the demon but I did not kill him. He still lurks in the shadows of my spirit waiting for my weakness to open the door.
Every day the battle begins anew and every day I call upon myself to fight.
And every victory is easier than the one before.