Page 109 of Devil Inside

“This is it,” I shout.

Her limbs constrict, serpents at my sides. I feel her breath at my ear. Somehow, she’s just next to me, whispering, “Let me in...”

Was that in my ear? Or in my head?

Somewhere deep inside?

The street drops out below us. There’s no more road. We descend. A straight shot all the way down to—

hell

—the lowest road in Richmond.

The asphalt tilts and our bodies take the plunge. I can feel the lift in my stomach, as if all of my insides rise into my rib cage while the rest of me dives. Our speed picks up. I’m not pedaling anymore. I don’t need to. We are plunging down, down, all the way down.

The wind bites at my skin. The air hisses in my ear. Lilith is there, right there, clinging to me the whole way down—and it’s only then that I realize it’s not the air hissing in my ears, but her. There’s a heat rising off her. Her breath. Her exhale. It burns and I’m burning right along with it and my God, there is nothing, nothing in this world that feels this good.

Nothing in this world.

We are going down... down... all the way down.

This isn’t concrete. This isn’t the city.

This is our very souls.

Burning.

I release a shout. So does Lilith. Not her host.Her.Lilith. Actually Lilith. It vibrates out from the body she’s in and echoes into mine.

We ride.Ride.All the way to hell and back.

growing distant

Josh

“This isn’t like you,” his mother said, but she may as well be talking to a brick wall. “We were worried out of our minds, Josh... Why didn’t you call us?”

Josh hadn’t spoken much at all since his mother found him rummaging through the kitchen. It had to be well after midnight when she heard all the commotion from deep within the house. She tried waking Bill up, but he was out cold, so she simply slipped on her robe and tiptoed down the hall. A faint glow bled out from the kitchen, drawing her in.

She held her breath before entering, not knowing what to expect... but hoping. Praying it was him.

The lights were off. The refrigerator door was wide open, casting its dim glow across the countertop. She gasped at the sight of her son, embedded into the shadows, focusing on the faint pale outline of his exposed neck as he glugged down an entire carton of orange juice. He wouldn’t stop, Adam’s apple bobbing, rivulets of juice spilling down his cheeks.

“Josh,” she released, his name a revelation.

He was here. Back at home.

A miracle.

But Josh didn’t reply. Wouldn’t acknowledge he’d even heardhis mother call out his name. Wouldn’t deign to give her the simplest nod, signaling to her existence. He seemed bored.

“Josh, honey?”

When Josh was done drinking, he quickly dropped the empty container on the counter. It landed with a hollow plop, whatever juice left inside sloshing about the bottom, before tipping over and tumbling onto its side, sending the rest spilling.

Josh merely walked away, abandoning the kitchen altogether. He hadn’t even closed the fridge, letting the cool air out. Everything inside would spoil if she didn’t shut it.

“Josh—wait!”