Page 7 of Devil Inside

No—that’s not true. The SUV is still there, skidding to a halt in the middle of the intersection.

It’s me who is there and gone. I’m in some kind of spiral, whirlwinding in this tornado of motion. I can’t lock my eyes onto one spot, I’m spinning so fast. It’s dizzying, the world isblurring, but I can’t close my eyes. I need to witness this. Need to see. What the hell is going to happen to me?

Where am I going to go?

I finally let go of my bike, the two of us separating in the air, me heading in one direction and my bike gyrating off in the other.

I feel so light. So vulnerable. A butterfly freshly wrenched from its cocoon, all wet and tender. Without my bike, I don’t have anything to protect me. To root me to this world.

What’s happening to me?

I’m flying, that’s what.

Soaring.

Gravity can’t get a grip on me anymore. I’m ascending. I’m outside the laws of gravitational states. Every particle attracts every other particle in this universe with a force that is proportional to the product of their mass, but nothing is attracted to me now.

I am beyond the laws of our world.

I am gone. Long gone. And I never wear a helmet.

Why start now?

interstitial

what adorable morsel is this

prologue: speaking in tongues

Lilith

Let me in...

It begins with a whisper. A voice from deep within. Words so faint, no one hardly ever notices them. Not at first. Gauzy thoughts better left unheeded. Barely even there.

Let me in...

Somehow this whisper grows. Becomes more defined, clarifying itself, a complexity of tenor. Timbre. The words now flourish, repeated, an echo that only seems to strengthen.

Where is it coming from? Whose voice is it? It’s certainly not yours...

Then whose?

It won’t be much longer before you realize this infinitesimal whisper from the deepest recesses of your mind is slowly taking root, making itself heard. Demanding your full attention.

Do I have it yet? Completely?

Soon. So soon. Feel the words gently branch out and expand in your consciousness. It’s alive, this voice, thriving inside your mind.

Your body.

This voice isn’t a part of you—not your own—somehow separate from the rest of you, but inside yourself all the same, taking shape. Growing louder. Into something.

A whisper with limbs. Tendrils, spreading.

This voice has its own desires, telling you to do things. Things you don’t want to do.

But... how can that be?