Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 443

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Tuesday, November 18th, 2014 – Alison de la Fuentes – Bradley Park

Lucifer stood before Master, just moments away from being trapped. I began reciting the Hebrew spell for the seventh and final time, the words flowing easily after months of practice. “Aney laged helel ben shakar 'em penyenh zeh. Kevhev—”

Something seized control of my body, throwing me back into my own mind. The diamond on Mary's rod exploded. What was going on? My body moved without my control, and terrible words issued from my mouth: “The fools trusted me, my bridegroom. Just like you said he would. I have completed my final task and await my reward.”

This can't be happening! I would never betray Master! What was going on? What sort of nightmare was this? I needed to speak the words of the ritual, I needed to help Mistress trap Lucifer! They were counting on me!

I tried to move my lips, but I was rebuffed by the soul controlling me. *No!* I screamed in the silence of my mind. This was my body! I again tried to seize control. Whatever foul thing that possessed me struck my soul. I reeled back, deeper into the shadows of my mind. *No, no, no!*

*Yes, yes, yes, Alison! It is my turn, you stupid slut!* the soul that possessed me hissed. Shock passed through me; I recognized that voice. It was my subconscious; the whispered advice that had guided my entire life. *This is my body now. You'll get to spend the rest of eternity shrieking in the corner of your own mind, helpless to do anything.*

*Who are you?* I demanded of the voice.

*Jezebel. Queen of Israel and bride of Lucifer.*

Light flashed as Master and Lucifer fought. The Devil flailed at Mark with straps of light, smashing into my Master's golden armor, and sending him reeling in a burst of rainbow colors. “You cannot defeat me, Mark!” Lucifer boasted. “I led the Hosts of Heaven against Michael himself, and dueled the greatest fighter in Creation. And you think I will be bested by a puny, disgusting insect like you?”

Master parried the flail, and was driven back by the ferocity of Lucifer’s attack. Fire ignited about Mistress's body, then flowed down her form to her outstretched hand creating a ball of red and orange, the air dancing with its heat. The ball hurtled towards Lucifer's back. The Devil spun his flail, knocking the ball to the side. It sailed through the air and struck a tree, igniting it like it had been soaked in gasoline.

Master swung at Lucifer's side, and the Devil let out a blinding flash of light that drove Master back. The soul that controlled me fixated on Mistress. *You get to watch as I murder your precious Mistress,* taunted Jezebel.

*Don't you dare harm my Mistress!*

*Stop me, little slut.*

Jezebel made my arm reach down, and draw my bronze dagger. I fought with her, trying to claw at her soul. She seemed to backhand me, and I reeled back deeper into my mind. My body was forced to advanced on Mistress from behind.

*No! Please stop!* I cried out.

I lunged at her twisted soul, trying to wrap my arms around her neck and throttle the bitch. Jezebel grabbed my hand, twisted, and pain exploded through my soul. Mistress was throwing another fireball at Lucifer, distracting him from pressing his attack on Master. And she was unaware that my possessed body advanced on her.

“Alison!” Desiree exclaimed. My beautiful wife stepped between us and Mistress. “What's wrong, mi Sirenita?”

“I am not Alison,” Jezebel hissed with my voice. “Get out of the way, you stupid whore!”

“No!” Desiree scrabbled for the dagger in Jezebel's hand. “Are you in there, Alison?” she cried out as she wrestled with me.

Yes!* I shouted. I fought, I clawed, I bit at Jezebel's soul. *This is my body! My life!*

*Not anymore!* Jezebel gloated as she grappled with Desiree, and shoved me back deeper into my mind.

Desiree hooked her leg about mine, pivoting and slamming me hard to the earth. “Give me back my wife!” she bellowed, falling upon us. The wind was knocked out of my body; Jezebel's grasp weakened—I pounced on her.

And was rebuffed again.

Her will was too strong, her soul too ancient. How could I fight against such strength? I was only nineteen. I was powerless, weak. Jezebel's will was like steel wires warped around my limbs. I was a puppet, and she was forcing me to kill my wife.

Desiree grappled with my enslaved body, and we rolled around on the soft grass. Jezebel forced me to scratch, bite, and punch my beautiful wife. Lights flashed across the field as Master and Mistress fought the Devil. Jezebel was winning. I didn't understand; Desiree was stronger than me, a better fighter than me. Why was she losing?

Then I saw my wife's eyes. She doesn't want to hurt me—she was holding back.

Jezebel forced me to pin my wife, and stabbed the bronze dagger at Desiree’s naked throat. My wife caught the knife, halting it just short of penetrating her flesh. She strained against my body, but I was on top, and Jezebel had my entire weight pressing down on the blade. I struggled harder to take control of my body, but the bitch wouldn't relent. Every second I failed to reclaim my body, the bronze blade crept closer to my wife's nut-brown throat.

Despair filled me. I just wasn't strong enough. I was going to be forced to kill my wife.

“Alison, please!” Desiree screamed. “My love, mi Sirenita, I know you're in there! Fight! I believe in you!”

Bronze pricked her neck, a drop of blood beading red.

“Fight, Alison!”

How could I fight? She was stronger than me. This was like one of those sci-fi shows where the enemy invades the hero's mind. But the hero always realized that it was their own mind, taking control of what was happening. Wait, could that work? Could I control things in here? This was my own mind, not hers.

I needed to sever her control, snap the strings that bound me. I imagined a pair of scissors. They appeared in my hand, and I squeezed at the handles, trying to cut the string. I strained against the bonds as my wife strained against the knife; both of us were failing. Jezebel was winning. The string was too strong.

Stupid! You can't cut steel with scissors. You have to melt it.

The scissors became a blow torch that sputtered to life in my hand.

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