THE DEMON IN ME

THE AFTERMATH

The hut was heavy with silence, broken only by the creak of the floorboards as Maya and Cyril stepped inside. Their eyes swept over the splintered table and blackened boards, but their attention quickly returned to Arden.

He sat hunched on the edge of his bed, his hands trembling despite how tightly he clenched them. His mother lingered at the doorway, her face drawn with worry, but she didn't speak. This was a truth that needed to be told not by her, but by him.

Maya's voice was gentle. "Arden… please. Tell us what happened."

He lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed from a night without rest. For a moment, he hesitated. What if they looked at him the way the villagers did? With fear, with disgust? But Maya's gaze was steady, and Cyril's, though sharper and more suspicious, was waiting.

So he told them.

"The voices," he began, his voice hoarse, "they've never stopped since that day, when I was fourteen. At first, they were whispers easy enough to ignore. But lately… they've grown louder. Stronger. Last night, he didn't just whisper." His breath caught as he forced himself to continue. "He took over."

Maya's hand went to her mouth, but she didn't interrupt.

Arden's fingers curled into the blanket at his side. "It was like being trapped in my own body. I could see, I could feel, but I couldn't stop it. He moved me like a puppet, made me destroy the table, made me…" His voice faltered. "If I hadn't fought back, he would have hurt someone. Maybe worse."

Cyril stepped forward, his face pale, eyes narrowing. "And you fought him off? Just like that?"

Arden shook his head. "Not just like that. It felt like… drowning. His power is endless. My will was breaking." His chest tightened as he remembered the shadowy visions. "But then I remembered you two. My family. Faces, voices pulling me back. That's the only reason I'm here now, speaking to you, and not… something else entirely."

The words left him hollow, but also lighter, as if admitting the truth loosened the demon's grip, if only a little.

For a long moment, there was silence. Maya moved closer, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Arden, you're not alone in this. We'll help you fight it, no matter how many times it takes." Her voice shook, but the conviction in it was unyielding.

Cyril's arms were crossed, his jaw tight. He didn't speak immediately. When he did, his words were sharp, but not unkind. "You're playing with fire, Arden. One mistake, and you won't just burn yourself, you'll burn this whole village." His gaze softened slightly. "But you're my friend. I'm not walking away. Just… don't expect me to lie to myself about the danger."

Arden looked at both of them, his throat tight. For the first time since the shadows had coiled around him, he felt a spark of something more powerful than fear. Hope.

But deep inside, the demon stirred, chuckling. "Let them cling to you. In the end, they'll see what you truly are."

Arden ignored it. For now, he wasn't alone.

The words hung heavy in the hut long after Arden finished speaking. His chest rose and fell unevenly, every breath scraping against the memory of last night's struggle. The silence that followed was worse than the demon's voice, it left room for doubt, for judgment.

Then his mother finally spoke.

"You've carried this alone for too long." Her voice was soft, but edged with sorrow. She moved closer, kneeling beside him and pressing a hand against his damp hair. "I should have seen it. I should have done more to help you."

Arden's throat tightened. "You couldn't have stopped it. No one can."

Maya shook her head firmly. "No. That's not true. If he's inside you, then we just have to find a way to chain him there. To keep you in control." Her fingers clenched into fists. "There must be answers somewhere: an elder, a book, a spell… something."

Cyril snorted quietly, though it wasn't cruel. "You make it sound simple. We're talking about fighting a demon, Maya. Do you really think there's some dusty scroll lying around with instructions?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Maya snapped, her eyes flashing.

Cyril didn't answer immediately. He glanced at Arden, then at the cracked boards beneath their feet. "I think the bigger problem is this, what happens when the others find out? A broken hut is one thing. But if they hear what really happened…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "They'll stop whispering and start acting."

The words stabbed through Arden like a blade. He knew Cyril was right. The villagers were already wary, suspicious. Another strange incident, and they wouldn't hesitate to turn against him.

"I won't let them," Maya said, her voice quiet but fierce. "I don't care what they think. I'll stand by him."

Her words warmed Arden more than the morning sun could. Cyril sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Then I guess that makes two of us. Just don't expect me to go smiling into the fire."

His mother's gaze swept over all three of them, lingering on Arden. "Then listen to me. If you are going to fight this… if you are going to survive it… You cannot afford to stumble again. Promise me, Arden. Promise me you'll fight, no matter how much it hurts."

Arden lifted his head, meeting her eyes. His body still trembled, but his voice was steady when he spoke.

"I promise."

Outside, the village stirred awake, unaware of the storm growing inside one of their own.

When the conversation in the hut had ended, Arden leaned back on his bed, drained of strength. His head throbbed with the echo of the demon's laughter, but his eyelids grew heavy. At last, exhaustion dragged him into a restless sleep.

Outside, his mother closed the door quietly behind her. Maya and Cyril stood waiting in the yard, the morning sun throwing long shadows across the ground. The air was cool, but heavy with unspoken words.

It was Cyril who broke the silence. "You saw what he admitted there. He nearly lost control. Next time, we might not be so lucky."

Maya folded her arms, her eyes flashing. "So what, Cyril? You want to abandon him? After everything?"

"I didn't say that," Cyril replied, though his jaw was tight. "But we have to face the truth. If Arden slips again, it won't just be him who pays the price. The whole village could burn."

His mother's weary voice cut in, calm but firm. "Do you think I don't know that? He's my son. I see the danger every time I look at him. But I also see the boy who carried firewood when he was barely old enough to stand. The brother who comforts his sisters when they cry. He is more than what's inside him."

Cyril's frown wavered. He glanced away, kicking at the dirt. "I know. But the others won't see it that way. If word gets out…" He left the thought unfinished, but the image was clear enough: torches, accusations, exile.

Maya shook her head fiercely. "Then it doesn't get out. No one needs to know. Not yet. As long as we stand with him, he can fight this."

His mother's gaze moved between them, measuring the weight of their words. "Then we agreed. This stays between us. No whispers. No slip of the tongue. If the village finds out, Arden will lose more than just control."

Cyril sighed heavily, but finally nodded. "Fine. But I won't stop reminding you both of the risk."

Maya turned her eyes toward the closed door of the hut. "And I won't stop reminding you of who he is, not what he carries."

For a moment, the three stood in silence, each bound by the secret they now shared. Inside the hut, Arden shifted in his uneasy sleep, the demon's laughter curling faintly in the corners of his mind.

"Keep your secrets," it whispered. "Secrets never stay buried."