I got the idea from scrolling junk on YouTube. A few seconds later this came to me, although, I've already had the idea for something like this. Keep in mind, I've never actually written a story of this genre. I've read my fair share of graphic novels and eventually got the gist.

So, enjoy the story.


The old man clicked his pen as he waited for his patient to speak. His patient was laying in the black chaise lounge across from his desk. His patient, a girl no older than nineteen wrung her hands nervously. She had dark auburn hair cascading to the small of her back, and her eyes were a tubular gray. She was wearing a flowing powder blue dress. She wore white ballet flats. The young girl looked at the ceiling for what seemed like eternity. She was wholly aware of her doctor's impatience. She'd been here for at least seven minutes and she hadn't said a word.

"Anytime now, Mara," said the doctor. Mara visibly winced. She expected that, considering she had been wasting time, but she still felt a soft spot hit. She looked over at Dr. Preston; his clear blue eyes staring her down. She knew she's had enough stalling.

"It's...," said Mara, interlocking her fingers together. She carefully worded her sentence in her head. Rehearsing it in her head is what helped her move things along. "...the pale girl."

"The pale girl?" said Dr. Preston as he lowered his eyeglasses. He looked at her with that look parents used when children get caught doing mischief.

"You know." Mara pressed, her eyes full of fear. She sent him signals to remind him of what she was referring to. "The demon. The girl in black."

"Okay," said Dr. Preston, sitting back and picking his glasses to his nose. "And what has she done this time?"

"Where do I start?" Mara began. "She was sitting on top of my desk when I woke up this morning, as usual."

"Mhmm," hummed Dr. Preston with polite indifference.

"And then..." Mara furrowed her brow. "And then she popped up next to me in the lounge." She darted her eyes from the ceiling to the carpeted floor. "It was a good thing I didn't respond this time. Just let her prattle on and on. She disappeared during lunch hour, and came back an hour after that." She looked down at her hands, as though they would melt into mush any minute. "I haven't seen her pop up yet. She knows she can't follow me here."

"Because of what?" asked Dr. Preston.

"Because of you," replied Mara. "Because she cowers in the face of authority. Which is why these are my favorite times. This is my safe place."

"After this you know you'll have to go to your own room, Mara," said Dr. Preston.

"I know." Mara wished she could block out the demon's taunting voice every time they were alone. She snuck a peek at Dr. Preston, catching him writing down his notes. Mara yearned to see what he writes all the time.

"And," said Dr. Preston, "do you ever tell her to go away?"

"I always do," answered Mara. "But she always comes back. Sometimes I'll go a week without seeing her, which are my favorite times." Mara looked at the ceiling. "Nighttime is her favored domain. She gets stronger in the dark. She appears from somewhere and she taunts me, berates me, laughs at me. I shout back, but she always wins. Before you know it I'm asleep and then I wake up in the morning."

Dr. Preston jotted down several notes. His eyes scanned each more carefully. He took a glance at Mara, she laid there on the chaise lounge. He dedicated his time and effort to the patients of this mental hospital. The nights were the hardest. All the things this girl said were nothing compared to the things his past patients had chattered about. Most of those patients recovered and moved on, but he wasn't sure if this girl would ever get better.

But he still had to try.

"What do you think would make...the demon go away?"

"I don't know," replied Mara, eyes full of fear. "I don't think she'll ever leave. I'll always be her little plaything. She wanted control, now she's controlling me."

"And what you think you'll do when she has full control of you?" asked Dr. Preston. He's had all the patience with her since the day she was brought here when she as fifteen. Now she was nineteen, and she was still clinging to her obsessions. He diagnosed her with split personality disorder.

"She'll do what she wants with me." Mara answered. "I won't be in control by then, I'll be there, watching, but unable to do anything." She looked over to him. "How much time do we have?"

"We still have some time, Mara," said Dr. Preston, looking at his wristwatch. He looked back at Mara and said, "So if you have something else to say, say it now, or we can wrap things up early."

"No," said Mara, "I have something else to say."

"Okay," retorted Dr. Preston. "What is it?"

"I...I want you to...kill me...if you ever see me attacking the other patients or the other doctors." said Mara. Her answer surprised even herself.

Dr. Preston looked at her with his bewilderment masked. He was utterly appalled, but he kept his cool. "Kill...you?," he said.

"Yes," said Mara. "If you ever see me, like, eating people, or climbing walls and ceilings...I want you to kill me."

Dr. Preston was quiet. Mara's sessions were alway moderate. She usually spoke about the times before the demon arrived, and then she rambled on about how the demon was going to take over and how she needed to be stopped. Today was one of those days. And now she was asking him to do the one thing he would never do. Dr. Preston had let this go on and on. He didn't know his long this "demon" would go on. Since the day she was brought here, he did everything he could to put her fears to rest. He gave her medication. Had her join group therapy. Encouraged her to write about the "demon." Some days she wasn't afraid of anything: she was lively, engaging, full of life. Sometimes he thought of her rejoining society, but, alas, these days were rare. He saw her reverting back to being weighed down by her fears and worries. Sometimes Dr. Preston would think she would never leave this hospital and spend the rest of her days in this asylum. When this happened, sometimes he thought it was for the best.

Mara looked at him, using her expression for an answer.

"Time's up," said Dr. Preston.

"I was afraid of that," retorted Mara as she sat up. She stood up from the chaise lounge and walked towards the door.

"You'll see me tomorrow," reminded Dr. Preston in a teasing tone, hoping that would lift her spirits.

Mara stopped before the door, hand on the silver handle. She stood still for a moment and then she faced him. "If it even is me that you'll talk to."

Dr. Preston stared as she opened the door and strode out to the hallway.


Mara laid on her bed. Lights out was ten minutes ago, but she was not asleep. Instead, she stared at the ceiling, waiting. During these times she waited for the demon to arrive and get the routine over and done with. The demon was usually on time, but it seemed like this time she was taking her time. Mara waited.

In a matter of seconds Mara heard a clattering of noises—her pencil jar falling over and the pencils themselves falling on the floor. The auburn-haired girl turned her head. The demon was here.

"Hearken thee," said the demon with a hiss.

"Hey, Kira," said Mara.

"Missed me?" Kira pressed on, hands gripping the desk. She sat in her haunches, resembling a gargoyle in the position she sat. Her ink black hair cascaded down her like a waterfall, covering her eyes. Her argent skin glowed in the moonlight shining through the window. On her hands and feet she possessed sharp talons, like a hawk's. She was dressed in a black dress that looked like it had been tailored from the night itself. Her black wings stayed folded against her back.

"No," replied Mara. It wasn't a complete lie. Mara did wonder about the whereabouts of her demon. When her demon was gone for days at a time, Mara always thought about where she was and what she was doing. Not haunting her parents, she hoped.

"Still thinking about them?" Kira taunted, leaning forward. Mara didn't answer. She looked at anything but her eye, which had turned red a few seconds ago. Kira pressed on. "Oh come on, you knew they never believed you. Remember that fateful day? Come on, you remember."

Mara gawked at the ceiling as she thought back to the day she met Kira. It was back when she still loved with her parents. Back when things were alright. Back before her parents thought her insane. She was rummaging through the attic, searching for a childhood knickknack. She tripped on a sheet. The sheet was covering an antique mirror. The mirror reached the ceiling, it had a black filigree frame with demon skulls on the top and bottom. Mara at the time didn't know what happen when she touched the carved skulls, if only she hadn't been so entranced. When she touched the skull she regretted it. From the skull out came a black puff of mist and it trailed down Mara's arm and up to her head. From that moment on Kira appeared into her life. When she tried to tell her parents about it, the brushed her off. When she tried again, and mentioned Kira's intentions, her life took a turn for the worse. Her parents sent her to the mental hospital. From then on, Mara's life began to worsen as Kira's influence made its way into her subconscious. Some nights Kira crept into her mind and gave her nightmares just by watching as she slept. Mara sometimes woke with a fright, sometimes screaming. Of course, her doctors brush her off and give her her medicine and short her to group therapy and then to see Dr. Preston. Mara trusted him, but she knew he didn't believe her. He thought Kira was just a persona of someone she wanted to be. She didn't blame him. But Mara was not insane, and she would never be believed.

Mara's been in the mental hospital for three years, and Kira still latched on to her. She thought about Dr. Preston. She couldn't protect him forever. It was better that he leave, so he wouldn't be her first kill. She knew that Kira's meddling was getting stronger. She's had enough time to break Mara. To weaken her. But Mara always fought back. She knew what she hated. Kira hated when Mara ignored her. She hated when she went to see Dr. Preston. She hated when she was surrounded by a large group of people when she was outside. That's what Kira despised.

Kira let out a shrill, earsplitting screech. Mara cringed and rolled over on her left side. "Shut up," she uttered, rubbing her shivering arms.

"Oh come off it," said Kira, smiling from her ear to ear. Her pointy needle teeth could chew through the wall and she wouldn't lose a single tooth. "You know no one can hear."

"I don't want anyone to know I'm crazy," explained Mara.

"But they all think you're crazy."

"But I'm not."

"But you are."

Mara pointedly dropped the conversation, instead choosing to sleep. They've given her her medication before lights out. She never took it. Instead she pretended to swallow the pills before they left. After the orderlies left, she spat it out into the trash can and dropped wadded-up tissue paper in, so no one would find it.

She hoped she could get a decent sleep tonight. Maybe no nightmares tonight. Maybe she'll have one of her peaceful sleeps, which are so rare. Mara heard a thud, knowing it was Kira jumping off the desk. She ignored her this time, knowing she would be scampering around and then she'll be asleep. Mara opened her eyes and glanced at the ceiling, her eyes widened in fright. Kira was sticking to the ceiling, all talons—the ones on her hands and feet—tightly gripping the cold alabaster. Mara trembled, frozen. She usually saw Kira on the desk or on the floor, but she never saw her climbing the ceiling even though she knew she was capable of doing so. Mara saw the insidious smile on the demon's face.

"It's time," said Kira. Mara's eyes were close to shedding tears.

"No," whispered Mara, who was about to break down.

"I've wasted enough time, but you are relentless." Kira readied herself for when she launched herself onto Mara. "I never needed your permission to enter your body, I was just letting you enjoy yourself before I took over." The black fog surrounded her form. Her legs were no longer visible. Her eyes glowed red and her fence of teeth forever taunted Mara.

"No, please," pleaded Mara. But Kira didn't care.

"All those people that you cared about will be no more." said Kira. "They will no longer be yours nor anyone's. Besides, you knew this day was coming when you freed me from my prison."

"I never did figure out why that mirror was there." Mara's voice was barely a whisper.

"A man long ago trapped me in that mirror," said Kira. "He trapped me and I spent years being passed on from owner to owner, waiting for someone to touch the skull carvings. You see, the carvings were the key. The man who entrapped me made it so that only someone who touched the skulls could free me. I think all the previous owners knew not to touch the skulls, or perhaps they just hated the carvings. But here I am now. And it's time to exact my plans."

A single tear streaked Mara's face.

Kira's black fog engulfed her and she pounced in Mara. Black tendrils twisted up to the Mara's face. She let out a scream. If anyone could hear her, they would think she was having a nightmare, not screaming in pain. Her screams carried on as the tendrils covered more of Mara's face. Mara couldn't move, except kick her legs. But that wouldn't help in her transformation. Her entire body was covered in blackness. The last thing Mara saw before everything went dark was her door with the window. She hoped Dr. Preston would keep his promise. She doubted he would.

Then Mara became still, her body looked like she was covered in black rubber. And then, like the sun chasing away the night, the blackness slithered away. It was as if her body was soaking the black gook. Mara laid still, eyes closed, her arms stiff. She could've been dead and no one would notice until morning.

Several seconds later, Mara's eyes snapped open. Her eyes were no longer tubular gray. They were red. Mara was no longer present. Kira was here.


For future reference, this very story will not have any relation to any story I publish later on. This is a stand alone one-off piece. Thank you.