Paul could have fainted with relief when they finally arrived back at the house in John's battered car, that had started choking and spluttering thick fumes of smoke out of the exhaust on the journey back.

"You really need to take this old shed to the garage." He muttered as the car came to a shaky halt.

"I think my car is the least of our worries right now," John replied moodily, peeping outside warily before he dared to open the car door, "We should get inside before anything else happens to us."

"Being indoors didn't protect us last time," Ringo responded as he glanced at George, who was staring blankly out of the window. Ringo shuddered as he remembered the way his friend's eyes had suddenly clouded over before he ran off. How was it possible for someone to lose control over themselves like that?

The foursome rushed inside the house quickly, anxious about staying outdoors in the dark for any longer. When they got inside, the first thing John did was lock the doors carefully and rummage around the house to make sure there weren't any opened windows that something might be able to get through.

George and Paul sat down a sofa together silently, each busy with their own thoughts, and Ringo came to join them quietly. As he sat down, he felt something hard and sharp stick into the side of his leg. Stunned, he yelped and leapt up hurriedly, looking down to see the corner of a large, hardback book was sticking out from under a pillow. He lifted the cushion out of the way and perplexedly picked up the novel. It was bound in thick, brown leather and looked ancient - the pages were yellowed and practically falling apart.

"What's that?" Paul asked curiously, looking at the book.

"I dunno," Ringo shrugged, "But it sure hurt my leg." He rubbed the back of his thigh and sighed before continuing to look at the book.

"What's it called?" George asked inquisitively, wondering why John had left a gigantic old book lying around in his house.

Ringo turned the book over in his hands and looked at the title, but his jaw dropped when he saw what the peeling font said.

"It... It doesn't have an author..." The drummer stuttered, glancing at the book as if to check he had read it correctly. "But the title... the title is just 'Possession'."

At that exact moment, John reentered the room after having finally finished checking every door, window, balcony and cat flap was thoroughly locked up. He stared at the book, and Paul saw a flash of fear and horror cross his face, but it was covered up again smoothly.

The foursome just stood still for a moment, unsure what to do, but Paul made the first move.
"Well," He said cheerily, clapping his hands together, "We aren't having that, are we?" He reached over and grabbed the book, taking it over to a window and opening it. "Let's just get rid of this book before something bad happens again."

Paul was about to hurl the book out into the night when he felt a cold hand grab his arm and pull him away. He turned to see George clutching his wrist and looking at him anxiously.

"Don't throw it," George said, concern and fear in his hazel eyes, "When I threw away the ring, look what happened. We don't want to repeat that again. And anyway, I don't feel like that book means us any harm."

Paul looked at George and nodded, pulling away from the window. Instantly, George let go of his arm and relaxed, taking the book and opening its dusty covers for everyone to read.

The book's font was dull and faded, but still legible. "This book has been designed to give the reader an insight into a darker world - one in which entities exist that have no desire except to harm the innocent. These entities have many means and reasons for what they do, but as the title of the book suggests, this guide refers mostly to the cruel and distinct method of possession."

George stopped reading there and squinted his eyes, tracing the words with his finger.

"There's a message." He said suddenly and leant over to show the others what he was looking at. He pointed at the word 'design' and looked up at his friends. " The letter 'g' in 'design' has been made bold."

John snorted apprehensively. "That's a terrible code. Anyone could see that some of the letters are twice as thick as the others. They might as well have just written in bright pink across the cover of the book."

"What else does it say?" Paul asked, ignoring John's remarks with a smile.

George went through the sentence again and made out some more letters, "G... e... o... r... g... e... That's it. It just spells my name."

"Has the book been printed with that code in?" Paul asked, wide-eyed.

George looked a little closer, "No." He replied, "Someone has gone over the letters in pen or something. See, there are scribble marks on some of them."

"Who could have done that?" Ringo asked curiously, "And why?"

George flicked through the pages.
"I can't see any more bold letters." He said, scanning the pages, "Whoever left us this code only used it to tell us who the book was for. Me."

"Well, if someone wants us to read the book, and the book hasn't tried to kill us yet, I vote we should read it and find out what it says," Paul said, sounding much calmer than he felt.

"Okay, then," George replied, and handed the heavy book to his bandmate.

"What?" Paul asked as he took the book, "You want me to read?"

"Well, you were the one who said you wanted to see what it said," John replied, smirking a little.

"But I have a sore throat!" Paul affected a little cough and rubbed his neck, frowning.

"Probably only because you were screaming your head off when those creatures attacked us." John teased and nudged Paul playfully.

Paul responded with a dark glare, but opened the book and started to read unenthusiastically.

"Reader, there are many reasons you may have picked up this book. The main one, perhaps, is the possibility that someone you know has been placed under the spell of a darker force; in other words, possessed.

"This is a rare case, so it is important not to jump to conclusions, but be wary of the dangers of being in the presence of one who is under the dark spell. I will take a brief moment to explain the symptoms of possession, and they are as follows. The possessed may have an unnatural mark somewhere on their skin, commonly the arms, where the demon had entered." Paul stopped reading there and looked up at George. It was fairly obvious what he was trying to say.

"I don't think I have any injuries..." George murmured, "But I can't remember much about it at all..."

"Just roll up your sleeves, and we'll have a look then," John said and advanced towards George, who took a wary step backwards.

"I don't..." George started, trying to cover up his arms self-consciously.

"George, we need to know," Paul said calmly; but grabbed John and looked at him sternly. "We'll let him look for himself." He scolded.

George stood nervously, and for once he felt almost scared of the three pairs of eyes that were watching him intently. Even Ringo was acting oddly, trying not to make eye contact with him.

Somehow, George knew that the book was right. His left arm had been hurting a lot on the car journey, and he was certain that if he looked there would be some kind of injury to prove he was betwitched by something else.

But he might as well get it over and done with.

Inhaling, George hooked his fingers around the bottom of his left sleeve and started to roll it up, ignoring the searing pain as the fabric rubbed against his tender skin. As he lifted the sleeve off his arm, he revealed a huge and bloodied wound.

Three jagged claw lines sawed their way through George's upper arm, leaving it red, sticky with drying blood and swollen. It looked like his flesh had been torn through, leaving a mess of bloodied shreds of meat and skin. Ringo looked away, repulsed, and Paul twitched and flinched away. John felt like he was going to throw up when he saw it, but it was nothing compared to how George felt.

The pain was almost unbearable, and George had no idea how he hadn't felt it before. It had just been sore until he saw the wound, and then the full force of the pain hit him like a tsunami. He couldn't bear to think how much blood he must have lost.

Staring at the claw marks, he felt a little dizzy and faint. In just a few moments, their worst fear had been confirmed.

He was possessed.

Suddenly, stars and swirls began to dance in front of his eyes, and he started to see two, no, three copies of his friends.

"He's going to pass out!" John yelled, recognising George's dizzy swaying movements, and ran towards him. John's shout cut through George's head like a knife, ringing inside his head. The last thing he heard was his friend's panicked voice echoing and resonating in his aching mind; before the ground rushed up to meet him.

Sorry for not updating for ages! I've been really busy with a load of stuff recently, but I'll be updating a lot more from now on. Thanks for reading!