CJ

He had stopped wondering what day it was ages ago.  His mind was beyond fried.  Fight it.  Fight her.  They were the only things that he could think.  Wondering what day of the week it was or what time of the day had long since seeped away to a land of complete unimportance.  He'd been gone for a long time, maybe a few days, maybe forty years.  Time itself didn't really matter anymore.

            When CJ wasn't being used as the witch's doll, when he didn't have to have his mind on constant fight mode, he was stored in some cold stone room that smelled of urine and mold.  There was a dim undetectable light source that never got brighter or darker, that helped to muddle his mind on whether it was day or night.  He sat slumped against the wall, too tired to stand, already aware there was no escape.  There were no windows and no doors.  There was only a hole for him to piss in and one of those star transporter things carved into the center of the floor for Etheldreda to come and go with.

            His stomach gave a pitiful whine, like it had also given up, like it knew that no matter how loud it cried it wouldn't receive what it needed.  The nearly emaciated boy shivered in the thin clothes that his warden had graced him with.  His breath rose in clouds in front of him.  Every bone in his body ached, his muscles or what was left of them, throbbed.  His sharp, hollowed frame, was stiff and bruised from the harsh floor and from lack of movement. 

            Being used, having someone force you to do things that your brain was saying otherwise, pushed his body to limits that he had never known.  It left him completely drained.  Etheldreda had told him that if he stopped fighting her so hard, it wouldn't be so bad, and she wouldn't have to punish him so much.

            It would be so easy to do that.  It would be so simple to just let go, to let the witch have him, and there had been many times that he was tempted to do as she said and just stop fighting her.  Fighting never seemed to do any good.  It only caused him pain.  It only caused her to enchant an invisible rope around his neck, strangling him until his body succumbed to unconsciousness, or levitate him several feet above the ground and letting him fall hard on his hands and knees, which he wondered if they were cracked at this point; if not, they were surely sprained.

            Closing his eyes, he took in a weak, congested breath into his damaged lungs.  He couldn't let himself think that way.  Starting to go down that road was a hard one to turn back from.  He knew from personal experience. 

            There had been a point where he'd been painfully close to letting his life fly out the door.  After feeling so alone, after being pushed and shoved around by people who told him he wasn't worth it, that he was just some geek that was throwing his life away, he almost had.  He had had no one to turn to, and had been too afraid to seek out help.  But then a crazy little blonde girl had shown up and dragged him away from all of that.  She'd been angry at him for finding him in the state that he was.  He could hear her voice yelling at him, calling him an idiot.  At the time, he'd been so lost, he got angry back, believing this girl had no idea what he was going through.  That blonde maniac ended up bringing him to her friend, a shy brunette, who didn't know what to say to him.  She couldn't look at him, but still she sat by him.

            "Don't take Aza's anger the wrong way.  When she gets upset at someone like that, it just means she cares."  Evabelle had mumbled.  CJ didn't say anything.  "I don't know what you're going through, so I...I can't really say much, but I know that everyone goes through hard things, but I don't think that we should have to do that alone.  I d-don't know you, but I'm still here."

            Yes, Evabelle was pretty, she was interesting, she was into a few of the geeky things he was into, but it was those words that made him feel better.  It was that quiet comfort that made him start to like her.  But even if he were to get out of this, he couldn't even go back to her.  He could never tell her.  She'd never trust him again.  He thought of the way Etheldreda had traipsed him around with her, taking that walk just to find the barrier point, but using him, knowing that he liked her.  He had felt the witch's smile in his mind as she had taunted and practically confessed to Evabelle right in front of him, using his own tongue.

            CJ ducked down, burying his head in his arms.  He was so tired of every nerve in his body being constantly on edge, waiting for that witch's touch to fling him around like the puppet he was.  He just wanted to go home.  He just wanted to pretend that this whole thing had never happened.

            But a faint burning on the back of his neck told him that that wasn't going to happen any time soon.  Slowly, he pushed his head back up just in time to see the wicked witch appear out of nothing in the middle of the chamber. 

            He felt an annoyed shift in his brain, telling him she was not happy about something.

            Etheldreda glared down at him.  "Do I look like a mere object to you?"  She snapped.  "Do I look like a tool?"

            Inwardly, CJ groaned.  Here we go. 

            "Shut up!"  Etheldreda marched up to him and pinched his face between her nails.  "You don't get to treat me with disrespect."

            There had been a time, he would have replied that he hadn't said anything, but CJ had learned to not speak aloud a long time ago.

            Etheldreda ground her teeth.  "I know she's my mistress, but we don't speak with one another unless she deems in necessary.  She always wants to be with him.  They're always talking and never letting me into their conversations."  She shook her head, looking down as her grip loosened. 

            Mixed feelings of anger and loneliness swirled around CJ's mind.  Slowly, she looked back up, her eyes swimming.  "No one ever wants me."  Her gaze flashed down to CJ's mouth, and he wondered if she was going to kiss him again.

            It had happened several times before.  She'd come only to rant to him about how she was some poor unloved creature he should take pity on.  There might have been a time when he would have, but that point was long gone into the eternal abyss.  And when she'd get really upset to the point that her emotions were so high and low all at once, stretching between them, beating and screaming in CJ's head, she'd kiss him, pull at his tattered shirt, bite his bottom lip until is bled, as her salty tears rained over his face while she gasped and begged him to love her.  All it did was make him want to throw-up, but he wasn't an idiot anymore who tried to fight against her when she did that.  He was fairly certain, the chunk out of his ear was never coming back.

            But she didn't kiss him this time.  Instead her claws dug hard into CJ's cheek before retracting.  "And now she wants to see you," The witch muttered.      

            CJ had seen the demon that had Etheldreda on a leash, much like he was on hers.  The witch would deny that they were the same kind of binding, but CJ now recognized the situation better than he had ever wanted to.

            His few viewings of the demon, or The Mistress was all he knew the woman by, had been brief and far between.  Most of the time his mind had been under paralysis as Etheldreda waltzed him around in zombie soldier mode.  It could be hard to focus on what his body was seeing during those points.  He tended to black out more than he meant to.  One moment, he'd be in a meeting room with a bunch of monster things, then he'd blink and instead he was be running across a bridge, luring Aza into a trap.  It was jolting, but not as jolting as the kick the little blonde had given him.  However it had allowed him to come up for air.  It was fantastically satisfying being able to break free for a moment while Etheldreda had him in a hold, even if the pain of the real world crashed down on him like a bulldozer full of bricks.

            That was one advantage of being possessed.  Physical pain was numbed as his mind and soul were pushed away from the controls, the pain that perpetually encompassed him when she'd leave him in his little escapeless dungeon.  The only time that it hadn't been that way was just after Etheldreda had captured Aza through him, when the witch had forced him to take this bitter powder drug that thrust him back when he'd been at his lowest, when he'd been spiraling away from the world.  He hadn't realized they were hallucination dreams until he'd hazily come out of it to find his puppet-master extremely pleased about something.  She had started to brag about how the Mistress had complimented her on using him to give the same drug to Aza by kissing her.

            And thus another reason he couldn't go back.

            "Why?" Etheldreda stood and kicked his frostbitten leg.  "Why would she want to see you?!  You're not important!"  She gestured toward herself.  "I was the one who completely freed her from Hell!  Normal witches can't do that!  Normal witches and warlocks can only partially bring a demon up, by binding them to themselves.  I pulled her out entirely!  I pretended to be you just so I could keep an eye on things!  She has no idea what I went through in my stupid sister's house!  But no she never wants to see just me,"

            The burning on the back of CJ's neck increased and a chill entered his insides as his command shifted back for a small fragment of the witch's soul to take over and force him to his feet.  She did let him stay present though as she continued talking.  "But she wants to see you,"

            The two of them walked forward onto the magic star thing and his prison melted into a short windowless hallway with a door at the end.  Etheldreda strode up to it, with her CJ doll at her heals.  Taking in a deep, exaggerated breath, that did nothing to ease her high-strung nerves, she shoved it open, revealing a large, intimidating man with long midnight hair that fell over broad-shoulders, and sky blue eyes and enormous dark leather wings, draped in a chair exposing his, what girl's would call a sex-god's body, where you could see every last chiseled thing.  However, long pitch black finger nails were now raking into the guy's wide chest, making blood rivulet down his torso as a thin scaled lips swarmed around his full ones, a black forked tongue visible, flitting in an out.  A sick cross between a hiss and purr shook the white, serpent woman on the man's lap as a low groan rumbled from him.

            A mixture of CJ's own nausea and Etheldreda's circulated in his brain.  The red-haired witch cleared her throat, but it didn't break the couple's disgusting embrace.  "I brought my familiar, Mistress," She spoke sharply, and the demon woman lifted her head from the man's and swayed around to glare at Etheldreda with burning yellow-orange slit eyes.

            "Thank you, my dear," the demon's voice was soft and more non-threatening than CJ would have expected.  She slinked off of the demon-like man and approached them.  The man with the batwings stood as well so that CJ could clearly see the strange swirling tattoos scouring his now marred flesh.

            "We got distracted again, my lady," The man grinned.  "We do tend to get off the subject rather easily."

            The scaled woman smirked, but didn't glance behind her to him.  "All I need to know is if your preparations for the ritual are ready."

            "It's a complicated spell, especially one in my current position."  The big man grunted.

            A flicker of the snake eyes, CJ couldn't tell if she was annoyed or not.  "Don't tell me you're complaining."

            The man shook his head, and gave a half-hearted bow.  He looked a lot of like that dark angel back at Etheldreda's sister's place, but the way he moved and carried himself, was almost the complete opposite. 

            "I would never dream of it."  His smile twitched before he faded away.  As the man did so, CJ felt the most bizarre mixture of disappointment and longing from the girl that he currently shared emotions with.

            CJ had seen the winged man before.  His name was Averno, but apparently he had never truly been with them.  His true location hadn't been revealed to CJ.  However, the boy knew about the magic mirrors that one could use to project and communicate with others.  The entire back wall of this room was a mirror. 

            His own gaunt face, stared vacantly ahead at himself.  A hunched skeleton, littered in little white lines and a new injuries that had yet to fully heal.  He could clearly see the dried blood that had dripped down the side of his head after Etheldreda had slammed it against the wall, not terribly long ago.  One of the lenses in his glasses had cracked in the corner.  The blood from his head and dripped down and seeped into the fractured glass, forcing him to see through one almost completely ruby dyed lens for the past whatever time it had been.   

            "Release him,"

            The words snapped CJ out of his reflection.  Though he could not turn his head or move his eyes to look directly at the snake woman, he could see her with his peripheral vision.  There was no doubt that she had definitely said what he had just heard. 

            If CJ had been in control of his body, his mouth would have dropped just as Etheldreda's did.  "What?"  The witch hissed.

            The Mistress rolled her shifty eyes.  "Not the whole familiar spell, fool.  Just pull your soul out."

            From inside his own head, CJ saw Etheldreda chewing her tongue.  Her face did not show the hurt at being referred to as a fool, but it seared his brain like a hot poker.  "He's too weak to do much without me.  I doubt he can even stand."

            The Mistress tilted her head to the side, her temperate tone never shifting.  "Are you questioning me?"

            Etheldreda stiffened, and that angry pain sputtered into icy fear.  "No, Mistress," She shook her head and suddenly CJ found himself brusquely thrust back into the driver's seat, causing all the physical trauma his body had been facing, back on to full throttle.  His knees shook and he swung out a skeletal arm to brace himself against the wall with a strained grunt before his wobbly legs could buckle beneath him.

            "See, I told yo--"

            "Leave us," The Mistress silenced Etheldreda with a hand, her gaze no longer on the witch, but instead penetrating CJ's goose-bumped riddled flesh. 

            CJ gave short wheezed gasps, his whole body trembling under his own weight, but he was determined not to fall.  He would not give either woman the satisfaction. 

            CJ glanced at Etheldreda.  Even though her emotions were no longer intertwined with his, he could read her face probably better than most people.  Her face was blank as she gave another nod, but the fact that her mistress had told her to scram and leave her with her familiar alone, ate at the red-headed monster from the inside out.

            Once the witch had turned the corner at the end of the hall, the Mistress approached CJ, whose heart rattled his ribcage.  The limited air in his lungs seemed to deplete further.  He loathed Etheldreda, but this was the woman above her.  What was this one going to do to him?

            A mottled gray hand with long, bony fingers reached out to him, and CJ slammed his eyes shut.  A shiver washed through his bloodstream, and he did what little he could to prepare himself for death.   Horrifyingly, he realized it was not that difficult.

            Instead of death, he was greeted with a full breath of air, clear sinuses, relaxed tendons, every crack and sprain of his bones hitched together.

            CJ's eyes flashed open as he straightened himself up away from the wall and stared down at the demon, who was shockingly a few inches shorter than him.  He still felt weak and shaky from lack of sustenance, but it no longer felt like a war to stand upright. 

            Blinking down at the demon, the boy remained silent.  He didn't know what to do, so he waited. 

            The Mistress continued with her serene smile as she gestured him to follow her down the corridor, in the opposite direction that Etheldreda had gone.  "Come with me, Christopher Johnson."

            CJ flinched as she used his full name.  He wasn't sure why, but having a demon know his name make him queasy, but he dare not disobey her, so he did as he was told.

            The Mistress did not say a word as they walked and neither did CJ.  His mind was reeling, though.  Why did she want to just see him?  Why heal him?  What purpose did she have with him?  But he dare not speak unless she wanted him too.

            It wasn't long until, the snake woman turned to a door on the left and pushed it open and CJ nearly collapsed at the smell that billowed out.

            It could have been November.  CJ didn't know.  Perhaps his family was sitting down to a spectacular Thanksgiving feast, one that he would never have.  But that didn't matter as scent of roast turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet yams, buttery rolls, fresh stuffing, and pumpkin pie wafted over him in a great big cloud of food heaven.

            The boy with the cracked bloodied glasses stumbled into the room after the demon and saw the smells were not just a taunting game that the woman was playing on him.  There was a long table filled to the brim with what his stomach had been crying for, for weeks.  There was a single chair, where a plate and utensils sat, calling his name.

            CJ tore his gaping stare away from the food and onto the Mistress, who smiled at him and gave a wave of her hand.  "Eat."

            He didn't need telling twice.  Unceremoniously, CJ plopped himself down and piled on the meat and rolls, slathering it all in gravy.  There was no point in manners as he shoved the savory food into his salivating mouth.  CJ's jaw ached and he choked a few times, but with the cool ice water or sweet apple juice, he was able to swallow.  He was shocked, though, as he felt himself get full so quickly.  After having nothing but old bread crust and dingy water for what felt like forever, he'd thought he could eat the entire immaculate feast in one sitting.  Even though, he could have stopped, CJ did not, since he did not know when he would ever get this opportunity again. 

            The demon woman must have sensed the starving boy's intake decline as she finally spoke.  "Aren't you afraid it might be poisoned?"

            CJ's chewing slowed but did not stop until he swallowed his bite from the turkey leg.  He finally looked over at the disturbing snake creature.

            "You can speak," She nodded as though she had read his mind, which she very well might have.

            CJ wiped his dripping chin with the back of his hand.  "It crossed my mind," he murmured, surprised that his own voice didn't sound like a garbage disposal.  "But why would you heal me, only to poison me?"

            The Mistress chuckled, her arms crossed leisurely across her chest.  "I am a demon after all."

            CJ reached over and grabbed the goblet of water and took a long swig.  "I know," he said, placing the cup back down.  "But I guess I'd prefer quickly dying after stuffing myself on delicious poison food, than slowly dying of starvation."

            The Mistress swayed over to him, and the air seemed to grow colder, the closer she got.  She leaned in, so her face was six inches from his own.  "Who's to say that the poison isn't a slow-enacting one, that will slowly shrivel each one of your organs, putting you through such unimaginable pain that it will have you begging for death."

            CJ leaned further back in the chair, until his head met the back of it.  "So did you poison me?"

            The demoness leered at him, and pulled away without replying.  "Poetry," She said, turning his back on him.  "I have a great adoration for poetry.  Or perhaps it is irony.  Or I like what you human's call it: poetic justice."

            CJ stared after her.  Justice.  What would a demon know about justice?  "Those three things aren't the same," He murmured, then tensed at his own words, realizing he was contradicting her.  He braced himself for the hit, but it never came.

            Again the woman gave a soft laugh.  "Maybe not, but there's a definite string linking them all."  She twirled around to face him again.  "Poetry.  The poetry of healing a tortured boy, give him what he wants only to have it kill him in a far worse way than he could even imagine.  Isn't that just beautiful?"

            The delicious taste in CJ's mouth turned to sand and the food in his stomach started to roil.

            "But no, I did not poison you."  The Mistress unfolded her arms to reveal a nice set of folded jeans, t-shirt, and jacket, that had not been there moments before.  She tossed them to the thunderstruck boy in the chair.  "Put those on.  They're much better than that disgusting filth you've been wearing."

            CJ blinked down at the clothes and then back up at the demon only to find a screen between them.  "Put them on," her voice repeated from the other side.  "I'm giving you privacy, but don't dawdle."

            Shakily, the boy did as he was asked.  He shimmied out of the rags and into the mint condition get up.  A strange staticy feeling sparked along his skin as the new clothes slid over him.  He felt different when they were on.  At first he couldn't place it, but then he realized he was clean too.  The dirt and dust that had caked themselves around his body like a cocoon, were gone.  His greasy, floppy hair was washed and fluffy, like it was after he had a hot shower. 

            CJ couldn't remember the last time he felt like this.  He was clean and full, in soft clothes, and his muscles not screaming at him whenever he moved. 

            Whenever Etheldreda used him to go out to do things, she used this potion thing that briefly covered over the smell, and the disgusting appearance, but it wore off quickly, and then it was back to his solitary dungeon where he was once again a starved pig living his own filth. 

            CJ came out from behind the screen and looked over to the Mistress, who stood still, waiting as calm as ever.  What in the world was her game?  "Now," She said, striding up to him again, once more reaching out a hand.  This time, CJ did not cower away from her as a single white-gray finger touched the bridge of his glasses, completely sealing up the spider-webbing cracks and clearing away the stained blood.

            "Reparo," CJ whispered in awe, suddenly feeling very much like the character that Aza had the habit of referring him too.   

            The Mistress did not make any response to his reference as she turned and again gestured him to follow her, out of the Thanksgiving room and once again down the hall.  "You wanted food, but that not what you want,"  The demon commented.

            CJ didn't say anything.

            "What do you think of Etheldreda?"'  

            CJ's lip curled as his finger dug themselves into his palm.

            "Don't make me repeat myself, Christopher.  I want you to tell me the truth and if you don't, I can wrench it out of you in a far more entertainingly excruciating way."  She glanced over her shoulder, that placid smile still claiming her scaled lips.

            "I want her dead," CJ grunted.

            The Mistress did not demand an explanation.  She did not ask for more than that.  She just kept gliding on with her head now facing forward.

            CJ felt the floor starting to decline.  This mysterious house didn't make a lot of sense from what he had seen outside of his cell.  It was just a lot of hallways and corridors with plain doors that had random rooms in them.  It kind of felt like the how he imagined the old famous Winchester Mystery House to feel like. 

            It seemed aimless, wherever they were going.  They took several rights and lefts, but now as they descended, the air again, began to drop and he couldn't even see the end of this particular corridor.  The lights were out at the end.  It was like being in some bizarre dream where you were trying to get somewhere, but never make any progress.

            "She could be, if that's what you want."  The demon woman spoke again.

            CJ's head twitched over to her back again.

            "I can give you the power to be the one to do it yourself."

            CJ stopped so abruptly, he nearly face-planted.

            The Mistress slowed her step and turned to face him.  "You've been under her thumb for so long.  She's made you feel weak and worthless.  It's what she deserves."

            "The power," CJ said.  "You mean you can make me a witch,"

            The Mistress shrugged.  "In, your case, you would be a warlock, but yes.  In making you a warlock, it would break the familiar's bond completely, and you could never be under her like that again.  You could be the one to kill her with your own hands.  You would have your justice."

            CJ's eyes narrowed.  "You mean poetry.  A boy once under a witch's control, frees himself only to be locked under a demon's.  I know how the whole witches have to serve demons or their power will turn on them shtick.  I'd get out from Etheldreda's claws only to be trapped under yours."

            The Mistress tilted her head innocently.

            "Plus, you know I've never used magic and Etheldreda is more powerful than most witches anyway.  You just want to pit me up against her, build up my hope only to have her kill me in the end anyway.  You get to watch us fight and feed off of my pain, while you sit back with a satisfied smirk.

            "You can give me amazing food and nice clothes, but I'm not an idiot.  I'm not going to delude myself into thinking you're on my side like Etheldreda has."

            After his little speech, CJ instantly felt like swallowing it back up.  He'd just thrown all his thoughts right into a terrifying demon's face.  If he had said that to Etheldreda, she'd have cursed a whole flood of spiders to attack him.  She would have tied his wrists and dragged him up and down some magic sandpaper field. 

            The boy took a step back as the Mistress threw back her head and burst out in the most uninhibited reaction she had given: outright laughter.  It wasn't a soft chuckle, but full a out laugh, that made CJ even more wary and anxious.          

            As the demon settled and straightened up again.  Her easygoing smile was a little larger than it had been as she said,  "Would you look at that; take the muzzle off the dog and he reveals to be smarter than his owner."

            Again, the woman turned and continued down the ever darkening hallway.  CJ didn't need a sign that he was supposed to follow.  His mind continued to reel through thoughts about what this hell-beast truly wanted from him.  Had she just wanted him to say yes to her proposal in becoming a warlock?  No, there was obviously more.  She wouldn't have been so relaxed about his refusal.  There was something else that was driving this whole thing, he just didn't know what.

            While trying to process everything, they finally reached the end where a tall squared cement door stood.

            CJ stared up at it, not understanding.  The cool air around it made him think cold storage.  Was she just going to throw him in there to freeze to death?  No, there had to be more.

            "You wanted the food, but that's not what you want," The demon repeated herself as she walked behind CJ instead of opening the door.  "You want Etheldreda dead, but you declined my offer of power to do it."  A warm stir to the air made CJ blink and hunch over. 

            "So,"

            That one word snapped him back up as if an electric current whipped down his spine, because that word had not been said by the Mistress.

            CJ spun around and goggled at the willowy girl with the long beautiful brown hair and splay of light freckles over her nose.  Evabelle Dane's golden-brown eyes sparkled up at him.  Her slender hand came up and cupped his trembling jaw, slowly sliding around to the back of his neck, guiding him down where her full soft lips met his own abnormally dry ones.

            The confounded boy's brain completely shut down, as her body pushed up to his until he was pressed to the freezer door.  His boiling body awoke at the cold touch and he squirmed against the feeling of rose petals against his mouth, against the taste of sweet cool honey on her tongue.  He reached up and violently yanked her arms off of him and shoved the girl he had longed for, for so long, away from him.

            "Stop it!"  His voice cracked as he shakily wiped the sleeve of the jacket across his mouth.

            Evabelle laughed just as the Mistress had a few minutes before.  "Isn't this what you've always wanted?"  She asked in that tender voice that could only be hers.

            CJ's face was on fire as he kept himself flat against the chilled door.  "You don't know me!  You don't know what I want!"  He shook his head, glaring at Evabelle.  His eyes burned too.  "What do you want?"  He spat.  "What is it that you really want from me?"

            Evabelle sneered in the most un-Evabelle way.  "Finally, you've asked the right question.  It took you long enough."  She stepped up to the door and reached out to move CJ aside, but he wriggled away from her touch.  Then Evabelle pulled the cold cement door open and held out her arms.  "After you."