Heretics book 3 - The Apocryphile Press

356 :: JOHN R. MABRY
for someone—or something—like Duunel, there was no difference
between the ring and a weapon of mass destruction.
The vision was violence for the unprepared.
He hesitated again. He could bluff. He would not use the
ring, but Duunel could not know that. He strode forward
and raised his hand, the ring shining with ruby luminescence.
Duunel took a step back, a wave of terror fled over the little
girl’s face, but then the evil smile reasserted itself. “No...”
the girl’s eyes flashed, like a reflection of the ring. “If you
were really going to use that to compel me, you would have
already done it. Besides, a vision like that,” he shook the
blond, curly head in mock-pity, “well, it could snap a little
girl’s mind, couldn’t it?”
Richard’s own face betrayed him. Duunel was right, of
course. It had almost snapped his. He grasped at the only
remaining straw he could think of. “Perhaps we can make a
deal,” Richard said. “Come out of this little girl, and you can
inhabit me.”
Richard could hardly believe the words issuing from his
own mouth, but he knew they were the right ones once he
heard them. He knew from the vision that all things would
be well, that there was, ultimately, nothing to fear, however
much pain and suffering there might be in the meantime.
“Why would I want to do that?” asked the demon, the little
girl’s face registering something like pity.
“Because she’s a little girl. She has no freedom, no privacy,
her movement is restricted, and because once her family
starts to notice her odd behavior, your new body is going to
be subjected to electroshock therapy, psychiatric drugs, and
possibly restraints. It’ll be old man Dane all over again, only
this time without the groovy morphine or demon-pal nurses.
Is that what you really want?” Richard saw the little girl
waver, could almost see the demon in her brain thinking. He
pressed on. “You come into me and I’ll make room for you.