Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once the world had made sense, it had been filled with life, objects to physically touch and understand the world with better, people to help make life seem clearer, the dangers and mysteries around him seemed less daunting, there were explanations, there were people to protect those who couldn’t protect themself. Even Isaac’s own father was sure he could protect others from what they couldn’t see. He only found out demons weren’t invisible forces guiding people towards sin when he saw a face of nightmares standing across from him and from that moment forward life had only existed in nearly indiscernible blips. 

His clearest memories were from early on, the longer he had been trapped with this demon, the less clear the world had become. Isaac so clearly remembered the hope he felt as his father did everything in his power to save him. He saw his father’s own pain as he burned his son’s body, as his father’s commanding voice yelled at the creature that had tried to make home inside of Isaac’s body. He had been sure this brief nightmare would be over, he’d recover from his injuries, he’d properly ward demons away from him with the crucifix he almost never worse despite his father’s insistence, and this would all just become an unpleasant story no one wanted to speak about outside of warning others about the dangers of possession. Instead, the next thing he remembered falling, his father holding him, shielding Isaac’s body with his own, demon or not. The sight of his father’s impaled body was the clearest memory he had while the demon controlled his body, the grief and horror so intense nothing could ever take it from him no matter how desperately he wished it was gone. There were only three times before now since he was possessed that Issac gained control of his own body, when the demon’s presence seemed to retreat into sleep. Every time, Issac had been met with a strange and terrifying new world that made less and less sense than the last one and still every time he desperately went looking for help, but every time, even if he was met with compassion and aid, no one could help him quickly enough as he always was pulled back by the demon when his body’s demand for sleep overpowered his own will. 

The first time he woke up, he was alone in unfamiliar woods, his clothes and hair matted with blood and dirt, shallow scratches covering his skin and tearing through his clothes, the burn from the brand his father had put on him long since healed the scar white and faded. He had known from that alone that years must have passed. He couldn’t determine where he was or exactly how long it had been as his body hadn’t seemed to age since the day he was possessed, the day his life ended in every way that mattered.

As much as he wanted to curl up at the base of the tree and scream and cry at the loss of everything he had ever known or held dear, he had forced himself to his feet, chose a direction at random and walked. He wasn’t sure how long he traveled but by the time he heard a voice in the distance, the sun was low in the sky and he could barely stand, exhaustion taking over him as he cried out for help. The person who found him the first time was a man with a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder and a large dog at his side. 

Issac had tried telling the man everything that had happened but instead found himself breaking down in tears, every part of his body was in pain, exhausted from hours of walking through thick, unfamiliar forest, unsure if he was even going in one direction, hunger clawing at his sides, thirst nearly unbearable, and the all too familiar grief of his last clear memories overwhelming his every thought. Even if he knew it had been long ago, in every way that mattered, it was only the day before that he watched his father die, the moments jumbled together over the years barely counting as any passing time.

The man hadn’t said anything, or at least Isaac didn’t think he had said anything, but he had lifted Isaac in his arm and carried him while he cried into the man’s shoulder, unable to say anything else. It was another moment of false hope that he felt, that someone would be able to help him, that he’d be rid of the creature that stole his mind and body, that he’d be safe, that he would have a life again even if it was in a place and time that was foreign to him with everyone he knew and loved lost to time. The exhaustion from physical excursion, injury, and grief pulled on him and the security he felt from hope he was stupid enough to believe in had lulled him to sleep in the man’s arms, trusting that he would be taken to someone who could free him. 

He should have known that in his sleep the demon would take his body from him again but he had been stupid and careless, not fighting with everything he had to stay awake until he got help. Isaac could only hope that the demon hadn’t harmed the man who was willing to help him, that the creature just stole his body to run back into the night. It’s what he told himself even if he couldn’t stop the images of the man’s body torn to shreds for the crime of helping a child in need from forming in his mind, unsure if he was imagining them or if they were memories through the demon’s eyes, the kind of thing only a demon could punish someone for. 

The second time Isaac regained consciousness, he once again found himself filthy, famished, and injured, unsure if that was how the demon always treated his body or if the injuries were the reason its consciousness lapsed allowing for Isaac to take control again. He was lucky the second time, or, well, he thought he was. He had woken up not far from a farming village, the sounds of people and animals drawing him in close. 

He saw a woman working near the edge of the forest in a field and without thinking, he ran to her, fell to his knees, clutched her skirt and started crying. He begged her for help, not caring how feral or out of place he looked or how little sense he was making. He didn’t care if he humiliated or drew attention to himself so long as he could get this thing out of him. He didn’t care what happened next, didn’t care if he couldn’t live without the demon in him, he just wanted it gone, there was no price too high to pay, it had already taken everything from him, he didn’t care if it took his life too. 

Isaac remembered several people surrounding him as the woman coxed him to his feet and led him through the fields to her home. He couldn’t remember the woman’s name or what she looked like, but he remembered her soothing voice as she sang to him while cleaning dirt and blood from his hair and body in warm water, calming him even while he cried, promising him that their fastest rider was going to the next town over for a priest who was equipped to handle exorcisms than their own. She had sat Isaac down by the fire wrapped in a blanket while his clothes dried and held him as he ate an unfamiliar soup. Between the hunger, fear, and it being the first thing Issac had tasted in years, he was sure that it was the best meal he had in his life.

 The woman had carefully tended to his injuries, even though her hands were strong and rough from a lifetime of hard labor, her touch was gentle as she carefully checked every scratch the demon had left on his body. Every time the woman had tried to prompt an answer out of Isaac about what had happened to him, he shamefully gave simple answers or admitted he didn’t know, the woman seeming unsure about possession even though everyone else in the home seemed to be cautious around Isaac as if they were worried the demon would leap out of him and into one of them. If his father hadn’t bound the demon to his body, Isaac was sure the demon would have, the desire to ruin as many lives as possible too intoxicating for an evil beast such as itself to pass up on.

Whether the woman recognized that the cross burned onto Isaac’s chest wouldn’t allow for the demon to leave his body protecting her from possession or she didn’t believe that Isaac was possessed, he didn’t care. As long as someone was coming to perform an exorcism he didn’t care if she didn’t believe him or not. Anyways, even though his possession didn’t feel as long as it was, he hadn’t realized how desperate he was for gentle touch as the woman soothed him when he cried, brushed the knots from his hair, and held him close while he was wrapped in warm blankets to ward off the late autumn chill.

With the exhaustion from injury, possession, and grief mixed with the relaxation of a full belly, gentle arms, and a warm fireplace, it was hard to stay awake, but Isaac had learned his lesson from last time, he wasn’t going to fall asleep until the priest came to save him. The woman had tried to get him to rest but he had refused, terrified of going back into the darkness, terrified of what the demon would do to these people. Isaac spent all that night biting at the fleshy parts of his fingers under his nails, pressing down on the most painful injuries the woman had bandaged, pulling at his freshly washed and brushed hair, and holding his hands close to the fire until he couldn’t stand it a moment longer. The pain kept him awake, he couldn’t risk falling into sleep and letting the demon take over him again while everyone in the home was asleep and defenseless. 

The next day was heavy rain with strong winds, treacherous traveling conditions under normal conditions, potentially fatal this close to winter. When Isaac had seen the weather outside, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from crying, all the hope he had felt for freedom gone. He knew then and there that the priest wouldn’t be able to get to this village that day, traveling far in these conditions wouldn’t do anyone any good and he didn’t think he’d be able to stay awake until late into the next day at least. He’d try but he already felt his resolve faltering at the insurmountable task ahead of him, he was already so tired, unsure if the demon leaving him weak when Isaac got back control was intentional or just a consequence of his state. 

Even though being this close to winter made travel more difficult, at the very least it meant that the tasks that the woman needed to complete in the field were fewer and less urgent than if harvest hadn’t been brought in yet or it was prime growing season. Even if he was dragged back into the dark by the demon inhabiting his body he wouldn’t be alone while he was awake. His clothes were clean and mended, body clean and bandaged, was being fed, and most importantly he was being cared for in strong, inviting arms holding him close, fingers brushing through his hair, and false words promising him that it would be alright, that he didn’t need to cry, that he was safe. 

Maybe if the situation was different, it would have been a day Isaac would have enjoyed, but the dread that built up in him with every hour as the day passed and it got more difficult to stay awake. He bit at his fingers harder and harder until he could taste blood, causing the woman to pull Isaac’s hands away from his face and cleaning the blood off with a damp cloth, scolding him for hurting himself. All Isaac had been able to do was cry again, begging her to not let him fall asleep, that the demon would take over his body again, that he didn’t know when he’d be able to get help again, that he was scared the demon might hurt them if it got out. She had promised she would stay awake with him until the priest got to town the next day and kissed his head and it was all he could do to hope that it would be enough. 

No matter how hard he tried, he must have fallen asleep against the woman’s chest while she held him that night. He must have felt too warm, too full, too tired, too safe. Once again, the moment his consciousness wasn’t fully present, the demon took over again and dragged him away from his hope of freedom. Once again, he had to desperately hope that the demon left the woman and her family alone. Even if everyone else had been frightened of him, they were never cruel, they helped from a distance and did what they could to free Isaac of his eternal prison. He especially hoped that the woman, who was in the most danger, who had shown him the most kindness, was okay. He forced himself to imagine that the family was only disappointed or worried to wake up the next morning to find the child raving about being possessed gone and nothing else of consequence happened to them. 

The third time that Isaac had woken up had been nothing but chaos, he woke up in the middle of a town filled with more people he had ever seen in his life, loud machines traveling the roads, the air dirty and foul smelling. Everyone he tried to ask for help from accused him of something, shooing him away or trying to attack him, Isaac unsure if the demon had terrorized these people in his body or if the sight of him dirty, bloody and in clothes that looked so different from their own frightened them. Regardless of the reason, where he was met with compassion and aid the first two times he regained consciousness, he was met with nothing but hostility in his third. All he could do was run, desperately hoping he would find help somewhere. 

He came across several churches as he ran, desperately pulling at and banging at the doors but no one answered. So many houses of God in this town and none were open to help him and none of the people in this place cared to help him either. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he was first possessed, but if he didn’t have proof that Hell was real, this town would have been enough for Isaac to stop believing in God. Maybe God was gone and all that was left for people was Hell. So many places for God to rest in this place and not a trace of Him anywhere. It was the first time when he regained consciousness that Isaac didn’t have a chance to really hope for any real help.

Eventually he had made it out of the worst of town, the air clearing, people thinning, the loud machines becoming fewer and fewer. He stopped running, he looked around at the landscape around him, ready to sit down at the bottom of a tree and try to escape the hunger and pain consuming him with sleep and give into the demon that had claimed him when he recognized the landscape for the first time. So much of the landscape had changed, the people and the way they lived had changed, but the hills were the same. Every time he had regained consciousness he had assumed he was somewhere far from home, the demon making him travel to do its wicked deed and he had been so desperate to look for help he had never looked closely at the landscape that wouldn’t change in decades. Centuries? Longer? He remembered these hills surrounding his village, he remembered playing on them with his friends, sitting at the top of them and looking down at his home with his father on nice days when he had little work to attend to. Isaac wasn’t sure if he had just returned home or if he had been here the entire time never noticing, but it didn’t really matter where he was before.

Instead of giving up like so much of him still wanted to do, so aware of how cold it was, his stomach growling, his body throbbing in pain, sure that if he were to remove his clothes his skin would be covered in more scratches and bruises everywhere. He didn’t need to look at the damage the demon had done to his body, unsure if the monster was attacked or if it simply liked inflicting pain upon itself, it clearly enjoyed inflicting pain upon others from what Isaac had seen. 

Isaac wasn’t sure where he was going until he saw it, the cliff where he first lost all hope. Where he foolishly thought that after a few weeks of recovery and scolding, his life could go back to normal. He wished more than anything he could have heard his father’s reprimands for ignoring all cautions and getting possessed as he tended to the burn wound on Isaac’s chest, he wished he could have apologized, listened to his fathers warnings in the future, and live a normal life. Instead, his father held him while they fell to their deaths and they both lost everything to the demon. 

Carefully, he climbed down to the base of the cliff where they fell all those years ago, there may have been a lot that Isaac hadn’t seen over the years, a lot that he couldn’t see clearly, feeling as though he was in some kind of nightmare, but he would never forget the rock he saw his father impaled on as long as he lived. His father’s body was gone, likely long ago removed for burial, all traces of what killed him washed away by years of rain, wind, and animals scavenging for remains. 

He wasn’t sure why he came here, he didn’t really want to be here, but his home was long gone, he had no idea where his father’s grave was if it was even still around, so he sat at the base of the rock that stole his father from him, pulled his knees to his chest, and cried. “Forgive me.” He whispered as if that could undo everything, as if that could make him carry his rosary with him after his father told him to again and again and he never listened. As if that could bring his father back. Maybe, just maybe, if Heaven was really there, his father might be able to hear him. Maybe one day Isaac would be able to join him if he wasn’t forced to walk the earth forever as a vessel to a cruel demon. “Forgive me.” He said a little quieter, shivering as a gust of wind blew through the ravine. Why did he always have to regain control so close to winter? It wasn’t fair. Nothing about this was fair. He wasn’t a perfect boy, he did wrong, he sinned, but he wasn’t a bad person. He wasn’t cruel, he never hurt anyone on purpose, he always confessed his sins to his father and tried to be better. He could have been better but he knew he couldn’t have been bad enough to deserve this. Even if he was, his father had been a good and righteous man, dedicating his life to the church and his community, he didn’t deserve to have his son, his only family left, taken from him by a demon. None of this was fair. 

As Isaac sat against the rock, cold seeping from his skin to deep in his bones, hunger clawing at his sides, thirst burning in his throat, and pain and grief coursing through his body, he could feel sleep taking over him. Maybe next time he’d wake up somewhere people were kinder, where the demon didn’t attack anyone. As he felt himself being pulled away, out of the corner of his eye, he was sure he could see a familiar figure hurrying towards him, a familiar voice calling his name. He tried to pull himself back into consciousness but either sleep or the demon already had its claws in his mind pulling him away from the figure he was sure was his father. 

Chapter Text

Every time Isaac regained consciousness in his body, he had always woken up somewhere horrible, or the places felt horrible at least. He always woke up covered in dirt and blood, he was always cold, hungry, thirsty, and in so much pain. He could never bring himself to think about what had happened to put him in that situation. He didn’t want to know what the demon had done with his body, who he had hurt, what lives were ruined and ended by his own hands. This time was different, when he woke up, Isaac wasn’t met with the familiar pain that coursed through his body whenever he moved, no hunger that had likely been growing for days and had become unbearably painful, no overpowering thirst, no winter cold digging its claws into his exposed flesh through his torn clothing. 

Instead of cold, hard, damp earth beneath him, he was on a warm, soft, dry bed, the air was warm and calm instead of the persistent winter chill. Slowly, Isaac sat up in the bed looking around him. He had been curled up at the foot of a bed in a room filled with colors, strange symbols, and light coming through a large window. When he shifted a little, he felt something press against his back causing him to jump a little before he looked behind him, his gaze landing on the face of a sleeping boy. Isaac couldn’t place it, but the face was familiar. Maybe the demon had captured him with Isaac’s body? He must have seen this boy’s face through the eyes of the demon frequently or recently, right? He couldn’t be sure, he just hoped that the boy was alright and more that he could be of some help.

Hesitantly, Isaac touched the boy’s foot that was only inches from Isaac himself. “Hello?” He asked, unsure if the demon had injured the boy or if he knew someone who could help free Isaac. “Hello?” He asked again, a little louder, crawling up towards the boy’s face, resting a hand on his shoulder and shaking him. “Help me, please.” He begged, voice cracking a little, feeling the familiar desperation and grief welling inside of him again. He couldn’t go back to the dark, he had no idea how long it had been since he last got a chance to see the world, had no idea how long it would be until he would see it again. How long would it be until no one could understand his language anymore? Until he could never ask for help again, all possibility of freedom gone forever. “Please wake up.” He said louder as the desperation he felt found its way into his voice.

When the boy stirred, Isaac felt a flicker of hope in his chest until the boy mumbled something incoherently, turned away from Isaac and pulled blankets over his head. 

“Please don’t leave me like this.” He begged, shaking the boy one last time to no avail.

Taking a deep breath, Isaac got down from the bed and left the bedroom, hoping that there was someone else home, someone who could help him. If not, the boy couldn’t sleep forever, could he? Did the demon do something to the boy to trap him in sleep as it had trapped Isaac in possession? 

As Isaac wandered through the hallways of the strange, large building, every window looked out to bright colors and the world fully alive in a way Isaac must have not seen in decades, the demon had only ever allowed Isaac to see the world when it was dead and frozen, adding to his misery. Maybe this time would be different. He would be free whether that was to live his life in an unfamiliar time or finally get to rest, finally get to see his father again after so long. Still, he swore that he saw his father at the base of the cliff, like he was waiting for Isaac to return to him as himself after all these years trapped in a living Hell. He still wasn’t sure what he had seen that night. 

Even if it was warm and comfortable, the building Isaac had woken up in was strange. He kept hearing voices but couldn’t find any people, whenever he thought her heard someone close by, he always kept his voice low when he tried to respond, unsure who or what else he would alert to his presence, wanting the option to run from this place with as few aware of him as possible if he needed to.

As he quietly made his way to the bottom of the stairs he heard another voice, like the face of the sleeping boy, it felt like he knew the voice but from a distant memory he couldn’t place. It wasn’t something he had ever encountered before when he regained consciousness. He wasn’t sure what the demon was up to and doubted he wanted to know, his father could have figured this out easily for sure, but Isaac wasn’t as experienced as his father nor even as clever. He tried to think of anything helpful his father ever told him when a man stepped through the wall and looked down directly at him and said something in that voice Isaac couldn’t understand as he momentarily froze with terror, hoping his eyes were playing tricks on him. 

The man said something else, bending down and resting a hand on Isaac’s shoulder, except it didn’t simply rest on his shoulder but passed through his body ever so slightly, the place where the man’s hand made contact glowing a slight blue. The contact was strange, not quite like a human hand, it didn’t quite have the weight or warmth, but more like the memory of touch. It wasn’t until the man said something else that Isaac was able to move again, running down the stairs towards the door, unable to stop himself from screaming when the man hurried after him, not caring who else heard him. He had to get out of this place, the demon had clearly made its home here, brought its evil to the people, no one here could help him.

When he got to the door, Isaac pulled at the handle as hard as he could but the door would only slightly rattle even as he shook the door as hard as he could, clawed desperately at the door as if he could find something to make it open, unsure if the man, the creature, behind him would do everything in its power to stop Isaac from freeing himself. 

“Let me out!” He screamed, tears rolling down his cheeks, whole body trembling with fear. “Please let me go! Let me go!” Isaac could hear his pleas turning to shrieks as terror and desperation took over him. He’d go back to the cliff, he’d find his father, he was sure his father had been there, he would know what to do. He’d have the answers. He always knew what to do, that couldn’t change now. He could help. He could always help. 

“Abaddon! Stop that, you’re gonna break the door again! What is wrong with you?!” The familiar voice of a woman yelled as a hand grabbed him by his collar and pulled him away from his escape. No matter how desperately he tried to grip at the handle, he wasn’t strong enough to stop her. “What has gotten into you?” She demanded, grabbing Isaac by his shoulders and forcing him around to face her. She was down on one knee, face level with her, stern expression softening when their eyes met. 

“Abaddon?” She asked in a gentler voice, still holding Isaac’s shoulders in one hand, reaching up to touch his face. Isaac was unable to stop himself from flinching away violently before she could touch him, trying to pull out of the woman’s grip but her hand gripped around his upper arm before he could get away.

“Hey, Abaddon, what’s going on? What happened?” The woman asked again, gently brushing tears from his cheek even as more started to replace them. 

“H-help me.” He managed to whimper, trying to ignore the spirit man out of the corner of his eye. “Please help me.” He pleaded louder, his whole body trembling. He didn’t know if the woman served the demon or not, or if she even knew there was a demon in his body. She didn’t seem cruel and he doubted that he would be able to convince her he was the demon now, if she served the demon loyalty, she already had to know something was off about him. Isaac was unsure how the demon would normally act, but it likely did horrible things to everyone it came across. 

“Help you with what?” She asked, releasing her grip on Isaac’s arm as he stopped pulling away from her. 

“I’m trapped. It won’t let me go, I can’t go back, please.” He held onto her jacket, vaguely aware that she was dressed like a man while he tried to find the words to explain anything. He wasn’t sure if she knew Isaac harbored a demon, if she served the demon, or what she would do to help him or keep him from getting free. He had to try something, anything. He had to get away. 

“How about I make you some hot coco and you tell me what’s going on.” The woman offered, slowly standing up and offering him her hand.

Isaac wasn’t sure exactly what that was, but all that mattered is that she would listen to him, she might be willing to help. He carefully took her hand, glancing fearfully over at the man who could walk through walls as he took a few steps after them.

“Nathan, could you please watch the front desk and keep the kids busy if they come down? I’ll let you know when I’ve figured this out.” The woman said, getting the man to stop following them even if he grumbled about something in quiet argument, the woman not responding to it. 

The woman led Isaac into a room that took him a few moments to recognize as a kitchen, it looked so different from how he remembered his own when he still had a life. When he was free. Before the demon took everything from him. He sat down at a table as the woman moved around the kitchen, looking at his hands, trying to calm himself and clear his thoughts, his body still trembling violently, dread and despair clawing at his chest to the point it felt hard to breathe. He had no idea if he could even be helped anymore. 

Even if these people were unwilling or unable to get rid of the demon, maybe they would be willing to get rid of him. Isaac didn’t really care how it happened anymore, he couldn’t go back into another timeless nightmare for however long the demon stole his body only to wake up somewhere he didn’t understand. He didn’t care what happened to his body anymore if it meant he was free of this Hell. His soul could finally find rest, could finally reunite with his father. Whatever stopped the pain and misery he didn’t care anymore. He just needed it to be over. 

After a few minutes, the woman set a mug of brown liquid in front of him with little white cylinders floating at the top. Moving his face close to the mug, it smelled sweet and unfamiliar, still unsure what exactly it was. 

“Abaddon, what happened? I’ve never seen you like this before.” The woman asked, carefully resting a hand on Isaac’s shoulder as he touched the mug, the heat burning the tips of his fingers a little, sure that the drink would be too hot to drink right now. 

“Is that its name?” Isaac finally asked, having gone so long without having anything to call the demon besides what it was. He was never given a name or a reason, only pain. 

“Its name? Abaddon I–” The woman stopped talking as the confusion left her face. “You’re the little boy, aren’t you?” She finally asked, moving a little closer to him as Isaac sniffed the sweet drink, wanting to take a sip of it, growing more curious as to what it could be. 

“My name is Isaac.” He finally replied, thinking about her words for a moment longer before looking at the woman, some of his fear turning to anger. “You knew I was in there?” He asked, feeling fresh tears well in his eyes burning more from anger than grief or fear than they were before. “You left me like that?” He demanded, feeling all hope that anyone here would help him fade. He might have to wait for next time the demon, Abaddon, let his hold lapse for a moment for Isaac to try and free himself again.

The woman was silent for a moment, too many expressions passing over her face to read even without tears blurring his vision. “I always thought you were dead.” The woman finally said, brushing tears from Isaac’s cheeks again. “I’ve only known Abaddon for a year and even in that time I’ve watched him eat glass, drink poison, tear his limbs off, get impaled, and so much more that would have killed any human and he’s been doing that and worse to his body for over 300 years. Even if it hadn’t killed, it’s been so long–”

“300 years?!” Isaac asked, panic in his voice, barely able to hear anything else past that. He wasn’t sure if that felt like too much time or little time. It felt like too much had changed in only 300 years. It felt even worse that he had only been allowed to become conscious a total of four times over the course of 3 centuries. He didn’t know what upset him more, but having a number to put on the time he was a captive in his own body made it all seem worse. He hadn’t found help in 300 years, no one had captured him and exorcised the demon on their own, they never would, this was his life for the rest of time, he’d never know anything else but painful horrifying darkness interrupted nothing but painful and confusing light where he failed to save himself every time. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? He couldn’t breathe, no matter how many breaths he forced into his lungs it didn’t feel like enough, it felt as though his lungs were being crushed by everything he felt inside of him. 

“Hey, hey, Abaddo–Isaac, sweetie, I’m gonna do what I can to help you, just tell me what you need. We’ll figure this out.” The woman said, pulling Isaac from his panic, carefully carding her fingers through his hair making him want nothing more than to crawl into her lap, hide his face in her shoulder and cry until he couldn’t anymore. He just needed this nightmare to end and if he couldn’t have that he just needed to feel safe again before he was dragged back to the darkness and wait for the demon to let him out again, maybe in another hundred years when the world became unrecognizable again. 

“I need it out!” He practically shrieked much louder than he intended, desperation getting the better of him, clawing at his own chest. “Get it out of me!” He needed it out, unsure what he would be willing to give for this nightmare to be over, unsure what even had left to give. 

“Mom, what's going on?” Another familiar voice said from the kitchen door, Isaac jumped a little in his seat before he turned his head towards the voice, seeing the boy who had been asleep in the bed that morning. “Abaddon? Did something happen?” He asked, cocking his head. 

“Esther, please go, I’ll explain everything later.”

“Abaddon, are you crying?” Esther asked, ignoring his mother, stepping into the kitchen. Isaac just pulled his knees to his chest and hid his face, unsure what to say, not wanting another person asking him all the same questions if he wasn’t sure they could help. He just wanted it all to stop, he wanted it to be quiet, he just wanted to rest, really rest. Even though he had been asleep for all but a few days of 300 years, he felt so tired, like he never got any real sleep in the dark. 

“Ben! Can you come get your sister! You guys can watch whatever TV you want!” The woman yelled. A few moments later, Abaddon heard scuffling, the girl who looked like a boy repeating his demon’s name several times until Isaac covered his ears, not wanting to hear the foul name another time. He didn’t remove them until he felt the woman’s hand resting on his back and heard only her muffled voice from behind his hands. 

“Why don’t you take some deep breaths and drink your coco, it’s probably cool enough now.” She said, sitting back in her seat as Isaac cautiously took the mug in his hands. 

It was still a little hot, but not unbearably so. Taking a small sip Isaac was met with a taste he had never imagined before. It was sweet like he had expected but there was something else to it he couldn’t quite describe. He wanted to drink it as fast as he could, the heat the only thing forcing him to take small sips of the sweet liquid at a time. It could quite possibly be the best thing he had ever tasted. Even if no one here could help him, at least he could have small comforts. As he drank and looked over at the woman’s kind, comforting expression, he couldn’t help but feel a sliver of hope return to him. He couldn’t help but believe this woman might actually do everything she could to help him. 

“Unfortunately, Esther is our expert on the supernatural and Abaddon, the demon possessing you, is her best friend.” The woman said after a few minutes of silence, the calm that was slowly returning to Isaac and the last shred of hope he felt disappearing at that instant. There were so many things Isaac wanted to ask, starting with who would allow their child to be friends with a monster like Abaddon. The demon had been sleeping at the foot of her bed, there were so many horrible and sinful things it could have done to her while she lay defenseless and it was just allowed. Despite that, there wasn’t a single word he was capable of uttering as his throat constricted tighter as he tried to concentrate on not crying again even as his eyes burned. He didn’t want to spend his rare, precious hours awake crying like he did every time, it was just so hard not to. Every loss was still so fresh and every time he became conscious, he somehow lost more and there was always the threat of being pulled back into his nightmare if he failed to get help like he did every time. He couldn’t keep doing this. 

“We had an exorcist come to the hotel a few months ago and she sort of summoned a demon and then was disintegrated by it and I don’t really trust exorcists not to make things worse. Also I don't think any will take our calls anymore.” The woman said, so many things that left so many questions and suddenly Isaac couldn’t bring himself to care about any of it. 

“Can you ask her to get rid of my soul?” Isaac asked after a moment, not wanting a demon to be able to run wild and committing wicked deeds with his body, but he couldn’t go back in the dark. He couldn’t bear it anymore. He had tried for 300 years to rid the world of this demon and had failed, couldn’t do it anymore. He wasn’t a strong enough soldier for this battle God left to him. 

“Isaac, I–”

“Please.” He said louder, getting off the chair and falling to his knees in front of the woman. “Please, don’t make me go back. If you can’t free me then let me die.” He begged, willing to do anything to get out of this Hell, to see his father again, to not suffer anymore. 

“You know how you’re trapped in this possession?” The woman asked, a hand on Isaac’s head. “Abaddon is trapped in your body and he’s wanted to return to Hell for a long time. Maybe Esther would be willing to work together with Abaddon to figure out how to free you from possession and send Abaddon home if she understood how much this has been hurting you and how badly Abaddon wants to go home. He’s told me how much he hates earth, but I don’t think he’s ever told Esther. We all also thought your soul wasn’t in there anymore.” 

Isaac didn’t say anything, already sure the girl would refuse to help him. She was in league with demons, she befriended this one, let it stay close to her when she was vulnerable, and was sure to do its wicked bidding. She would never help. She would hold Isaac here until he couldn’t stay awake anymore and do what she could to seal Isaac away in the dark forever. 

As soon as he heard the woman’s footsteps retreat, Isaac desperately looked around the kitchen, spotting a small open window over the counter. Pushing a chair from the table to the counter he quickly and carefully climbed out and dropped to the ground before the woman and girl could get back. Even if he couldn’t get help, he wasn’t about to waste what little time he had left pleading his case to a girl who stood on the side of demons. Maybe he really had seen his father that night he was last conscious. Maybe his father could help. Even though Isaac wasn’t lucky enough to find his father again, maybe his father was lucky enough to find him, maybe, just maybe, his willful soul had stayed bound to Earth until he knew he had completed his final task at freeing his son from this demonic curse. 

Chapter Text

Even though the day was warm, sunny, and filled with life that Isaac had missed for so long, it may as well have been the cold barren winter all over again as he ran through the woods towards the familiar hills in the distance. He always had so little time and could never get help. The first two times he finally got to control his body, the first people he met were willing to help him without knowing who he was or really understanding what he had been through, the last two had been unwilling because of their hatred or love for the demon who stole his life from him. The demon who wouldn’t even let him die. All he could do was run and desperately hope someone could help him or give him answers. Someone to spend his final hours with instead of the distant, incohesive memories rattling around in his mind. 

The forest was thick with leaves, underbrush, and insects that seemed to want to keep him from getting away from the house with disciples of the demon Abaddon, the people who would surely hold him captive so he couldn’t free himself until the demon returned to his body, trapping Isaac in the dark again. After nearly two hours of struggling through the forest and backtracking around unfamiliar landscape Isaac finally found himself at the cliff where Abaddon had taken Isaac’s father from him. Where the demon had stolen Isaac’s hope, life, and everything he once held dear. 

It took awhile for Isaac to find his way into the ravine and to the rock that killed his father. Sitting against it, Isaac pulled his knees to his chest, trembling, unsure what he was looking for. Was it ridiculous to think that his father might still be here? Part of him wanted his father to still be here in some capacity, the other part of him didn’t want his father to be trapped here, forced to wander the Earth for all eternity, never getting to rest like he deserved. Still, selfishly, he desperately wanted to see his father more than anything. He knew that made him a bad person, but he couldn’t care at the moment, he just wanted, no, he needed someone familiar. He was desperate for it. 

Isaac wasn’t sure how long he sat against the rock, head buried in his knees, he had long since stopped crying but couldn’t bring himself to do anything else but sit and wait for sleep to drag him back to his inescapable prison. His body was stiff, he could hear his stomach growling, even though he hadn’t woken up starving like he had every other time, the demon clearly didn’t nourish his body properly. There wasn’t any point in looking for help, he didn’t know where he was, and even if he could find people, he might be met with the same hostility he was last time, Abaddon had certainly had more time to make more people hate him. He just wanted it all to end and didn’t know how to make that happen. He just wanted to go home even though he had no idea what that meant anymore. It felt like only a week ago he had a home, life, family, and future and somehow 300 years had passed and he had nothing, the loss of everything so fresh and yet so far away.

He couldn’t help but think about how much worse things might be for him now that Abaddon had disciples, now that Isaac had tried to turn them against the demon. Was there a way that it could make Isaac’s imprisonment in this nightmare worse? Things could always get worse. They always found a way no matter what. Isaac dug his fingernails into his scalp and tried not to think of the new ways the demon could tournament him to no avail. The time in the dark could actually feel like the true centuries that were passing, physical pain could be inflicted upon him besides just the constant mental anguish of terrifying images flashing before his eyes in ways that didn’t make sense or have much order. It was going to be so much worse now. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. He didn’t know what he did to deserve this. 

As Isaac sat on the ground, the air around him slowly got chillier as clouds rolled in and wind picked up. It wasn’t as cold and miserable as it had been the other times so close to winter but it felt as though the hope from the world around him was being sucked away. 

“Isaac?” A soft, painfully familiar voice pulled Isaac from his misery, causing him to freeze, unable to bring himself to look up. Part of him was sure he had seen his father last time he was awake, but that was decades ago, maybe longer, and maybe Isaac hadn’t seen him at all and just thought he did as he was pulled back into darkness. If he didn’t look up, he could believe the lie that his father was there, watching over him, still trying to save him even after all of Isaac’s shortcomings as a son. He could also believe that his father wasn’t trapped here and had the chance to move on. If he looked, he would be faced with a cold reality he couldn’t deal with. His father had every right to no longer care for his son after Isaac ignored all caution and got possessed, his carelessness damning him to this living Hell and killing his father. His own stupidity ruined everything. 

“Isaac, is that you?” The voice asked again.

Isaac nodded his head as much as he could with his face still pressed against his knees. He wasn’t free, he’d never be free.

“It’s you? You’re free?” 

Shamefully, Isaac shook his head, hearing the excitement and relief in his father’s voice. “I’m sorry, father.” He whimpered, pulling his knees closer as if that could hide him from his father, from God, from the world. 

“Isaac, look at me.” 

Isaac shook his head, sure that if he looked up he would be met with nothing. He was alone, he would always be alone in every way that mattered for the rest of time and would always be trapped with a malicious demon never free to control his own body and life. He needed to pretend he wasn’t alone while he waited for Abaddon to steal his body again. 

“Isaac.” His father’s voice said again, the feeling of the memory of a hand brushing over Isaac’s head and resting on his back. “Please, son, how did you break free from his control?”

Isaac shrugged, not really sure what happened when he got control over his body again, all he knew is that it was never frequent enough, and never long enough. “I-It’s only the fourth time I’ve had control since he possessed me. I don’t know why it happens. ” He admitted, raising his head a little but refusing to look over at his father, trying to steady his breath. “Can you help me?”

“I’m so sorry Isaac.” His father’s voice was soft and filled with pain. He hadn’t ever been the most forthcoming with his emotions, the closest Isaac had ever seen his father to tears was when he had burned Isaac’s chest to keep the demon from escaping and hurting anyone else. Despite that, Isaac had never once doubted that his father had loved him, the rare times the man smiled were mostly at or because of Isaac. After growing used to his father’s more stoic nature, the sound of his voice made Isaac feel more guilty than before. 

“Have you found anyone who can help you?” His father asked when Isaac stayed silent.

All Isaac could do was shake his head in response, his throat closing.

“Son, look at me. It’s going to be alright, I don’t have the power to exorcise a demon anymore, especially not one bound to a human body.” Isaac felt the ghost of his father’s touch moving across his back, desperately needing the hand to be warmer, heavier, alive. It wasn’t enough. He needed his father to hold him tight again like he would never feel again. He needed to feel his father’s real sturdy arms wrapped around him, holding him like he was something precious, not just a cruel unsubstantial memory. 

Slowly, Isaac turned his head, silently praying that his father wouldn’t disappear when he looked even though he was sure that God wasn’t listening to the prayers of a boy who was stupid enough to get himself possessed by a demon. Even less that God would listen to the selfish prayers of a stupid boy that would prefer his father to be trapped on Earth to offer Isaac a few hours of comfort than to be at rest. 

When Isaac met his father’s eyes, he couldn’t stop himself from crying out, burying his face in his knees, trying to calm himself, unsure if he felt more horrified or guilty. He knew that his father had fallen and had been impaled, but he hadn’t considered how disfigured his father would be in death. Even with just his glance, he could see the gaping wound still in his father’s chest, bones sticking out through punctured flesh from his ribcage and leg, and his neck was bent at an unnatural and horrible angle.

He heard his father’s calming voice apologizing to him and the too ghostly hand brushing over his back, somehow making him feel worse. It was a reminder that his father had been trapped just as long as Isaac in his own Hell and that his father wasn’t with him in the way Isaac needed him to be more than ever. 

Both stayed silent for a long time, neither sure what there was to say. Isaac wasn’t sure if there was anything to say. It wasn’t until Isaac started to feel the first drops of rain falling on him that he heard footsteps moving towards him. He didn’t care. It didn’t matter who it was, no one would help him. No one had been able to help him in over 300 years. Nothing mattered anymore, it was over, he should have given up a long time ago but this was as good a time as any. 

“Abaddon!” Isaac heard Esther’s voice call from behind him, he covered his ears with his hands, not wanting to ever hear that name again, he especially didn’t want anyone to call him that. He wished his father was real, that he could protect his son like he used to. Now the girl could just run through him and use her dark magic and devil worship to drag the demon back to full control of Isaac’s body. As much as he couldn’t bear going back, the thought of having his father have to see the demon take over him again was so much worse. His father had suffered enough because of him. 

“Abaddon, I–”

“Don’t call me that!” Isaac screamed, still able to hear Esther’s voice even if muffled, grabbing a rock next to him and throwing it blindly in her direction as he stood up, missing her by nearly a full foot, entire body trembling with cold, fear, and anger. 

“Isaac!” He heard his father yell from behind him, the voice he had always used to reprimand Isaac with when he needed it, the voice he wished he could have heard instead of his father’s screams as he fell from the cliff. When he was pushed from the cliff, Isaac could still clearly remember every moment of shoving his own father down into the ravine below, his father hugging him close, and them both falling as he had no control over his body but could fully witness the horror. Maybe his punishment from the demon would be to remain fully conscious for the remainder of his possession, see and feel every vile act the demon committed and be able to do nothing to stop it. Maybe locking him away in a prison of nightmares had been a mercy and Isaac had yet to experience the worst of what his life could become. 

Isaac wasn’t sure if he wasn’t sure if he was more scared about what the demon might do to him now or more angry that someone would stand with a monster like that. He was trapped no matter what he did. He didn’t care, nothing he did seemed to matter, all that would happen is he would suffer, he couldn’t even bring himself to care that his father was watching. Even though he didn’t want to disappoint the man he had looked up to for so much of his life he just couldn’t contain the rage he felt burning in him. Isaac bent down and grabbed two more rocks, throwing them at Esther when she tried to get closer to him and then grabbed more, ignoring everything that she said. 

“What has gotten into you! Stop that!” Isaac heard his father yell louder, he felt the man’s hand pass through his arm like he was instinctively trying to grab it to pull Isaac away. His father had never been a violent man and Isaac had gotten in trouble more times than he could count for trying to settle arguments with his peers with shoving, words just didn’t seem to ever work with some of them no matter how hard he tried his father’s methods. Isaac wanted to tell his father everything, how the girl was friends with the demon, how she was probably capable of freeing Isaac but just wouldn’t, that she allowed the demon near her when she was vulnerable, that she had been corrupted by it and wanted to corrupt the world with the demon’s vile bidding. When he tried to say something, all he managed to get out was a strangled sob. Isaac threw one more rock at Esther, getting only inches away from his head before he fell to his knees and screamed. 

There was so much Isaac wanted to say but all he could do was scream. He tore at his hair, his skin, his clothes, unsure what he was trying to accomplish but it felt right. He didn’t own his own body anymore, he had to do something to it, lay some claim and make it his own. He didn’t know when he would see anything again, he didn’t know if he would ever get out of this, he just didn’t know what else to do. When he started screaming, crying and clawing at himself, he couldn’t stop even as he gasped for air between sobs. He wasn’t even trying to accomplish anything anymore, it just felt like hurting himself might somehow hurt the demon in some way.

He heard indistinguishable voices around him none of which he acknowledged. He was going back and no one could help him. He would never get to rest, his father would never get to rest, living in a horrifying, broken body, and it was all Isaac’s fault. 

Eventually, hands rested on his shoulder and he swatted them away only for the hands to hold onto his wrists. All he could do was scream louder and struggle violently in this grip.

“Isaac.” He heard the woman’s voice say gently. “It’s alright, breathe, we’re gonna help you, I promise.”

Isaac shook his head even as his screams slowly subsided into quieter cries, his body still shaking violently. He didn’t believe her, she wasn’t going to help him, even if she could, she said her daughter was the one who knew how to perform an exorcism, and Esther would do anything to preserve the life of the demon. 

“C’mon, let’s get you back to the hotel. I promise you won’t be trapped like this for much longer sweetie.” She said, moving her hands from Isaac’s hands to his around his waist and lifted him from the ground, holding him to her chest. 

As she started walking, Isaac could see his father walking next to them out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head a little to get a better look at the man and immediately had to look away. His body was so hard to look at, it was so broken and bent in all the wrong ways. He desperately wanted to ask his father if it hurt, he didn’t think it did, but it wouldn’t matter if Isaac asked anyways, he wouldn’t get a real answer. His father had always been an honest man, but even if he was living every day in agony, Isaac knew the answer would be no. Whatever his father said wouldn’t answer any question. It wouldn’t ease the guilt of what Isaac had caused. 

After a few minutes of walking, his father stopped dead in his tracks, resting his hand against what seemed like an invisible barrier. Isaac shifted some in the woman’s arms, lifting his head from her shoulder, glancing between his father’s mangled body and the ground, not sure why he wasn’t coming with them. “Don’t leave me.” He whispered, more to himself than anyone. 

“Most ghosts have a geographic barrier. We’ll come back. Anyways, I’m pretty sure his unfinished business is never freeing you. We can free you and let him move on all at once.” The woman said gently as she continued walking away.

“He’s real?” Isaac asked, feeling himself coming to life again. He had been sure that his father was all part of his imagination, or that maybe it was his tortured soul unable to make it to heaven until Isaac managed to get free. He wasn’t exactly sure what he thought he was seeing, but he hadn’t considered that anyone else could see him. “Wait, please!” Isaac called out, bracing his hands on the woman’s shoulders and trying to pull out of her strong grip. “Father!” He cried out, reaching his hand out towards the man as if that could somehow help. “Father!” He yelled louder. “Please let me say goodbye, the demon won’t ever let me see him again, I know it. Please!” He begged, unable to get out of the woman’s grip no matter how much he squirmed. 

“We’re going to get you out of this Isaac, I promise you’ll be with your father again.” The woman said as she set Isaac down on the ground, still holding his arms firmly. “Pleasy hurry, it’s supposed to rain hard tonight.” She said, even though the rain was still pretty light.

Isaac just nodded, running back towards his father, keeping his eyes trained on the man’s feet, not wanting to look closely at the disfigured body that seemed worse every time he did. “I’m sorry, Father.” He said quietly, eyes fixed on a colorful rock on the ground, not sure what else to say. “I-I should have listened to you, I should have fought against it harder, I shoul–”

“Shh. This wasn’t your fault. Please don’t blame yourself. I never want you to blame yourself. Never.” Isaac could feel the gentle whisper of his fathers hand brush against his hair, desperately wishing he could actually feel his fathers hands, really feel them. 

“I love you.” Isaac didn’t want to argue with his father about how it really was his fault and didn’t want to say goodbye even if he was sure the woman wasn’t going to help him. He’d be stuck no matter what she said. 

“I love you too. This will be over soon.” Isaac wasn’t sure if his father was trying to comfort him or believed that the woman would help him, either way, even if Isaac saw his father again, it likely wouldn’t be for another hundred years while he was trapped, punished by the demon for trying to turn its disciples against it. 

When Isaac heard the woman calling his name, he reluctantly turned away from his father and walked back towards the woman and took her hand as she offered it to him, wishing he could at least believe she would help him.