This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author retains all rights to this work and you may not copy or transmit it in any way except in it's entirety and with this disclaimer.
The Daemon Inside By AMc Copyright 2006. All rights reserved.
Part 1
"If only I could confront this daemon and be rid of the guilty beast once and for all." Martin swore for the hundredth time as he sighed in resignation.
He had plenty to feel guilty about when he left the Eastern Orthodox priesthood and was disowned by his family for the blasphemous action. He ran away and changed his name from Mikolas to Martin Stavoropolous and wandered around aimlessly for years. The realization that he was gay only added to his misery.
Martin's desire to free himself of his inner monster bordered on obsession. He woke one night in a sweat, heart pounding after a nightmare so frightening, it took him several minutes clinging to his lover Daniel to calm down.The latest bout of anguish drove him to a monastery retreat for a month of fasting and prayer. He was happy to be back and anticipated seeing Daniel again despite lingering doubts.
He walked along a street with a light step. Nice was pleasant this time of year. He hadn't felt this way since, well since William.When he died it sent him into a long sliding depression. Then he met Daniel Conners and his gloom was swept away. A breeze from the sea cooled the sweat on his forehead as he turned a corner.
Daniel's house required a short hike up winding stairs, offering a stunning view of the Mediterranean Sea from the top of the hill. It was private and comfortable; hidden among a forest of trees with a garden on the verge of chaos.
He raised his hand to knock on the front door when he noticed it was ajar and the house was dark. Caution rose to alarm as he pushed the door open and called out but there was no answer. He walked slowly down the short hall to the grand foyer of the otherwise modest house.
"Daniel." he called again. The large double doors were closed and he could see a ribbon of light at the threshold. Odd, he thought with alarm, those doors are never closed. He opened one carefully.
He was hit with the overpowering scent of incense and something rotting. The normally sterile white room with a black marble floor, was a mass of blood red drapes, even the windows along one wall were covered. Mounds of dark sand were piled around the perimeter. Candles scattered around the room bathed everything in a soft glow. The oval shape of the room added to the strange effect. In the center was a large bed with a cast iron frame.
At the far end stood a naked figure with his back to him, looking in a mirror above a small table. He ignored Martin as he continued to smooth his hair with a hand. In the dim light Martin saw something hanging down from his backside, it twitched and he realized it was a tail. The hair on his neck rose in fear. The man turned around and he gasped, involuntarily taking a step back in terror.
'Oh Jesus, oh no, tell me I'm hallucinating', he begged inwardly as he stared at a daemon. His skin was a mottled dark green and brown like an over ripe pear. Perched high on his forehead were two small nubby horns. The hair was dark and slicked back. The eyes were a leonine yellow and unfamiliar as they bored into him. He looked like Daniel but it wasn't the tall, slender man he knew.
He regarded Charybdis carefully. He didn't look exactly like Daniel. The eyes were an unearthly gold whereas Daniel had sea blue eyes. The daemon had hair like a drowned rat. Even though Daniel was only thirty-five, the hair was receding at a rapid pace, leaving a sparse forest of hair the color sunlit straw on the top of his head.
"Daniel what's going on here?" he asked, hoping this was a weird joke.
"There's no Daniel here." the daemon said in a flat tone.
Martin mentally retreated from the confusion of the moment as he remembered when Daniel came to his photography studio three months ago. Martin recognized him from a previous encounter but Daniel hadn't paid him much attention then and why should he? Martin was a stout man with curly black hair, lush beard, and dark eyes hidden behind thick glasses.
They got to chatting and found comfort in each other's company. Both had lost their lover's and were running on automatic pilot- in shock mostly. Daniel appreciated someone who spoke English as his French was functional but rudimentary. Martin was well educated and spoke several languages.
Martin had his unruly hair trimmed and switched to lightweight wire rims in an attempt to look younger than forty two. He screwed up his courage to personally deliver the matted and framed photo. Daniel was touched by the gesture and once more they fell into easy conversation.
As they grew closer he was more affectionate with Daniel; it was not unusual for European men to be demonstrative in public but their liaisons were timid and clumsy like awkward teenagers unsure of themselves. Daniel never backed away and encouraged him to take his time.
A loud grunt broke Martin's reverie and he continued to stare in shock at the apparition before him. He came from a culture that believed such creatures were quite real. A daemon could be an aspect of one's self; a thought form created from within. To come face to face with one was beyond anything Martin could imagine. He closed his eyes and willed the being away. He crossed himself and called on every oath he had learned as a priest. He heard a scornful laugh and his eyes opened to see the beast still there.
"That's a nice gesture priest but it won't help you." he said, his voice loaded with sarcasm. As he walked toward him, Martin glanced down to see the daemon's erect penis jutting out like a third horn. He was frozen to the spot as the dark creature grabbed his head with both hands and kissed him violently on the lips.
"I am Charybdis, I know well who you are as I come at your bidding." he continued to stare at Martin whose brows jumped in recognization.
Charybdis the "deadly whirlpool" and it's twin Scylla from Greek mythology. Was he truly caught between a rock and a whirlpool of danger?
His breath caught in his throat as he looked around frantically. This was a joke right? He waited for Daniel to burst into laughter and say "fooled you." Perhaps he was still at the monastery and had entered into a trance. Or was this a dream? He would wake up any minute and find myself in his studio slumped over his worktable; stiff from sleeping in a chair. He would scold himself because he would be late meeting Daniel on his first night home. Martin was a stickler for punctuality.
"Lord Jesus what's happening to me?' Martin whispered. No sooner did the words leave his lips when a stinging slap brought him to his senses.
"You wanted me here priest, don't call on your fucking God now." he snarled, pointing a finger at him like a dagger. Martin turned and reached for the door.
"Don't!" the daemon snapped and Martin stopped.
Martin stared at the man as slow comprehension came to him. Whatever this was, dream, hallucination, nightmare, he had to confront the raging in his soul this monster represented. The conflict at leaving the priesthood, his homosexuality and all the complications it brought to his life. Martin dropped his hand and turned to face the daemon squarely.
"Why are you here?" he demanded.
"Because you summoned me." he replied.
" I never-" then he remembered the night he woke from a nightmare. He had created this hellish thing from his own doubts and desires. He suddenly felt nausea.
"What do you want daemon?" he asked in resignation. A thin smirk of evil developed across the creatures face. He casually strolled across the room and picked up a goblet on the table. He took a sip as he contemplated an answer.
"Your soul. " he said as if placing an order at a restaurant.
"Never. " Martin returned.
"Fine I'll take Daniel instead, I already have his body." he snorted at some private joke as he brushed at his genitals.
"Monster, let him go." Martin said in sudden rage and took several steps toward him.
" He's involved now that you gave his cock such pleasure. You brought this on yourself, deal with it." the daemon rejoined and Martin stopped in his tracks. He hung his head, resigned to the trap he stepped in.
Daniel was as much a part of this as Martin was of Daniel's life. Not a day went by without him thinking of the blonde American; the softness of his skin, his bright smile. He was the gentlest man he had ever met. How in God's name did he become this thing?
"What do you want me to do?" Martin asked in a broken voice, looking at the floor.
"Kneel down and kiss my feet." With some hesitation, Martin knelt and kissed the bare feet. The skin was rough and smelled acrid. Charybdis laughed and pushed him away roughly with a foot.
"Take your clothes off and stand at the end of the bed." he ordered. Martin did as he was told, neatly folding them in a pile on a small chair near the door.
"That will have to go too." he pointed to the heavy silver chain and cross around Martin's neck. He placed a protective hand on it, unwilling to part with the cherished object but the glare Charybdis gave him told him there was no compromise. He reluctantly removed the cross and kissed it respectfully before placing it on the pile of clothes. Charybdis made a derisive sound at the gesture.
He stepped forward and removed Martin's glasses, placing them on the pile and pointed to the bed. Martin grabbed hold of the horizontal footboard while his hands were locked in place with leather cuffs on the end of a chain welded to the legs. Martin tugged on the restraint anxiously. He didn't like the vulnerable position and his face reddened in humiliation. The daemon stood behind him and pressed his groin into Martin's rear. He tried to move away but he was held tight around the waist. Charybdis leaned forward and whispered in his ear.
"I know your mind priest. I will give you the pleasure you have denied yourself. Here is the challenge." he stopped long enough as both heard a church bell somewhere strike nine o'clock.
"I will drain you there three times before the night is over." he chuckled self confidently. He rubbed Martin's groin for emphasis, causing his member to stir.
Three times in one night? Martin was aghast. He was lucky if he could have three orgasms in a week. He didn't think he was capable of such outpouring but remembered his soul was at stake.
"And what will you take for the prize?" he knew the price but it needed to be spoken aloud.
"Your soul and Daniel too." he snickered. Martin shook his head vigorously.
"No, leave him out of this, this is between you and me,." he said, his anger rising.
God, what have I done? Martin agonized. He remembered the night when he could not contain his lust any longer and took Daniel in his mouth. The hard flesh of his manhood sent him into an ecstasy he never experienced. Daniel looked a little unsettled afterwards and asked if Martin was all right with what he'd done.
"I'm damned for being a homosexual anyway." he answered pathetically.
Although marginally religious, the Conners were earthy, pragmatic New Englanders, Daniel nevertheless respected Martin's beliefs. There was a lot about the orthodox religion Daniel didn't understand. He was mildly surprised to learn that priests could marry or leave the priesthood, unlike the starchy Catholics he grew up with in Boston.
Martin was a mystery to Daniel in many ways. He rarely volunteered information so it took some prying by Daniel before Martin spoke of his large close knit family and his travels after his break with the church.
The daemon held on tighter when he realized Martin was drifting. Martin did not want Daniel caught in his web of guilt and stood up the challenge.
"No, you're dealing with me daemon, you can not forfeit his soul for my sins. Here is my answer; if you are drained three times before me I will command your soul. "
"Agreed." The daemon growled. He got off the heavy set man and lit six pillar candles, three black and three white. He looked to Martin with evil intent.
"Shall we begin?"