Lyle stuttered after sitting up straight from a doze on the couch. The burning ache did more than woke him up from sleep. It also caused a 20 car pile up for the race to find his phone. The area rug bunched up in his fast steps and he slid right into the wall. A punch into the head, one to the guy and a possible knee injury ruined any chance to grasp a hold to what was happening. He had a day or so before the grandparents of his would land in California and another day that followed of celebrating Celine's birthday. Scales of shame grew from his skin or it felt as such. The creepy crawling sensation paralyzed his mobility, as he laid in the corner of the living room.

Stumped to move and fearful of what was emerging the longer his thoughts kept him company. The companionship was altering the perception of what comfort was when he was scared to keep his eyes open or close them. When he did, a rocky landscape of hell burned deeper into his mind. The horrendous marching of ghastly beings became the mascots of a realm unknown to man but well known to the lords that oversaw it’s domain. He had to see it countless of times in the last couple of months. Sweating to the phantom heat kicked up in both his head and around him.

While the former and latter weren’t physically appearing, it followed him. Tucked him into the bed, deeply into slumber until the nerve of fear was touched. In his moment of passing through the smog, he was lost only to be found by the heat that made the back of his neck hot. It burned up, singing the hairs that rose. Even though nothing was seen or heard by any one thing left in his home, the grand illusion of an extra person, one who took his body one week out of the month, appeared without actually showing his face.

His echoing chain smoking and huskier voice opened up the spaces of his mind. Whispering, coaxing, and being seductive in cracking open his head further. Wanting acceptance and a stable place to stay because all there was has been a new rush of chances. The chance to commit to the extended suffering of others, including the host now fully inhabited. He had plans. Promises of taking the both of them places. A well to do skeevy producer if you will, trying to sell his host a life of spectacular wealth. Not wealth in the monetary sense but a wealth of splendor. Pleasure. Respect. Feared.

His head couldn’t take the sell nor the promises because he was ringing with pain that was now felt through his bones. The lower back jingled first. Moving up his spine. Resting now at the neck. He never broke it but if one move and he slipped just the right way, he would become paralyzed. Ahhhhh you’re awake! Excellent. Let's get to the nitty gritty.

“The the what?! Why is there an echo through my ears?”

It's a me, Mephist-i-o! Hahah. Rise up Lyle. I’ve been waiting patiently for this perfect time to laaaaaaaaay it all out on the table. Plenty to discuss. This binding contract we have going for us and believe me. You’re the last person I wanted to be stuck with. Not a shabby place. Thought you should know ‘cuz you were usually balled up and gagged when I was around. This time is different. No powers? No flames and demon army amassing? What gives?

“Dios, my head. I-I—I don’t know. Who the hell are you?!” Lyle tried to sit up. Doing so slowly. Much slower than he liked but his cautious approach was met with laughing. The kind of laughter that haunts and filled the canals with treacherous promise. The sort where one knew the line where uneasiness began and was never-ending.

Satan to those who know little. Mephisto to those who really really really know. The big handsome, voice of deceit. Prince of lies. So on and so so forth. How many times will I repeat it? Worry less. Get up. We're going to set the rules here.

There was no budging from Lyle, only sheer panic. Causing stiffness. Afraid to move. More afraid to relax if he gave into the fun that was attempting not to part from the space between his ears. Gradually his eyes jumped open as an alternative view gave him the ability to see a rushed glimpse. Sped up memories. Cherry picked. Too ripe then too spoiled. Memories that were left to decompose, just ask the idea of rotting flesh left behind, made space where it did not belong. He was swept by it. Watering of the eyes the more it was fought let alone tries at blocking it all out.

Lyle, friend, buddy. Pal! That was not so bad. I'll make it easy. All in laments terms if need be. With introductions out of the way, the rest of this crash course will be easy. Comprende?

“Com-Yo entiendo, si. Hurry..this up.” The room filled immediately of defeat and dread as he slumped against the fall. Helpless in making the noise between his ears to quiet. He knew a way to drown it all. The root of his other problems including one flagrant demon, rested in the bottle. One that missed breaking across the floor when his spill happened. He would reach for it at some point. When courage was possible. When the ache subsided. When Mephisto ceased his introductory course, free of charge.