The Demon's Past

AUTHORS NOTE: 

Apologies in advance for the delay in this chapter! It was more difficult to write than I had anticipated, and I had to leave and come back to it several times because of the topics it covers. I'm going to publish this today, and then hopefully be back to the usual schedule come Friday!

Fair Warning: Some people may find some of the content disturbing. I wanted to provide that warning for any who may be sensitive to that type of content beforehand.

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About twelve years ago...

That was the first time Sota became consciously aware of it - the thing that he would eventually coin as his "inner demon". 

As a young child, fights were a common occurrence within his household. His parents did not simply dislike one another - they loathed each other. They purposefully slept and existed on opposite ends of the house, since every interaction they had turned into a disaster. Still, the place was only so big - so confrontation sparked often. 

As Sota paused his game, he recognized, the 'Phase' the argument was in. It always escalated the same way. Passive aggressiveness, then insults, then screaming, then physical violence. It hadn't come to blows quite yet, but it was past the point where it would die down naturally. 

He peeked out his bedroom door, down the hall towards where the chaos ensued. All of the others in the house had closed their doors, terrified and unwilling to face the nasty altercation taking place in the kitchen. Sota wasn't any less afraid than they were, but he recognized that someone had to stop them. 

I can do this. I can calm them down - like the hero in the video game.

With that in his mind, he did as he always did. He took a deep breath, tried to embody the calm confidence of the hero, and waltzed down the corridor and into the maelstrom. 

"...Disgusting pig!...Filthy whore!...Abusive psychopath!..."

Sota tuned out as much of the verbiage as he could. He simply found a spot in the middle of the living room and stood there. He resisted the urge to shake and tremble with all he was worth. He had done this countless times before, and it typically led to them stomping off to their own rooms. There was always the chance his presence only escalated the situation, but at least then it would get resolved faster and the others in the home could breathe a sigh of relief. 

Sota had miscalculated. He didn't understand that the arguments had been getting worse - they had been getting worse - and their restraint had wavered substantially over the years. 

He didn't hear the final insult that set it off, but he felt it. A sharp pain welled up in the back of his head as something hard slammed against it. One of the wireless home phones had been thrown, and it had gone off-target and nailed him instead. 

It should've been painful, but Sota's head was ringing. Not because of the injury, but because he felt like he was just barley hanging on. 

To what? He wouldn't figure out until he was much older that what he felt in that moment was the last bit of restraint that he had. His parents had briefly quieted, realizing what had transpired. That was all that Sota was holding onto.

It's almost over. That should be enough. Please stop...

It was all he had ... and it snapped when their argument flared back up in greater earnest than before. 

"Look what you did!...I should've never married you!...Filthy monster!"

Sota's "hero" had failed. He was there, trembling and offline - his body acting on instinct as his mind was stuck observing. He slowly crouched down, picking up the phone that had struck him moments before. His parents didn't pay attention at all - they were too caught up in their dispute to notice his actions. 

Then the demon came out. 

It identified his mother as the weakest target. Sota whipped around and launched the phone at his mother. Her only warning was the ungodly scream that Sota let out just beforehand. She managed to duck out of the way, but Sota slammed into her and knocked her to the ground. Despite being so young, he was still very big for his age. His mother, who was rather small, was not ready for his full body weight. 

He leapt at his mother, a terrified look in her eyes, but his momentum was halted. His father had leapt forward and caught him from behind. His father looked furious, but even he was not fully prepared to deal with the thrashing creature that Sota had become. He didn't even have a chance to speak or yell as he fought desperately to keep Sota contained. 

Seconds turned to minutes - and at some point Sota settled and his brain regained control. At that point, he was crumpled on his knees and exhausted. Both his parents also appeared to be exhausted from containing him. Neither of them knew how to react, given he was typically the least violent in the house. 

"I think it's time we all go to bed," his father finally spoke, walking off. 

"Yeah,"

The parents both collected themselves and dispersed, leaving Sota there to process what had just happened. He remembered everything - how horrified and terrible he had acted. It was the same behavior that his parents displayed towards each other... But at eight years old, only one thing stuck with him. 

When I became the monster instead of the hero, they finally stopped...

***

Christmas Eve was the one time each year that the family had a lit fireplace in the living room. 

Sota - now a fifteen-year-old - sat with Riku nearby. The two of them had set up their gaming console on the TV and were heavily invested in a co-op game. It was a rare moment of piece and calm amidst Sota's day-to-day.

At this point, his father had decided that the best way to prevent arguments was to avoid being home entirely. While that made his mother bitter and hostile, it was significantly more tame than it had been before. At least, on the parental front...

"Get off - we're taking the TV now."

Sota turned his attention to the living room entryway. One of his younger siblings stood there, his expression dark and his face gaunt. Despite being slightly younger than Sota, the effects of the drug and alcohol abuse were clear. It was always painful to see. Sota also had trauma from the past, but it had manifested in his siblings in a much worse way...

"We can move into the room in a bit," Sota compromised, keeping a calm tone. "At that point, you can have it..."

His sibling didn't like that answer, but he was not the one who decided to act. His guest - an older highschooler who was under the same substance influence, marched forward. 

"That wasn't a request," he declared, his aggressive intent clear as day. "Now get out!"

Sota recognized that this friend intended violence. He quickly stood, his composure calm and prepared. At this point, he had been enrolled in martial arts classes for several years. It was something his parents had started him in several years back - in an attempt to help him learn to control some 'violent impulse' that they were concerned about...

The kid was arrogant, and felt his age and 'street experience' gave him an advantage. Sota quickly defused that as he parried the oncoming punch, struck him a couple of times, and then dropped him onto his back. 

"That's enough!" Sota commanded, looming over his attacker. "You need to leave now, or I'm calling the police immediately."

It was a trained response. It was what he had been taught to do whenever his siblings went on a drug-induced rampage. It typically worked to calm things down for them, but this kid was clearly more troubled than he had expected. 

"Sota, watch out!"

Riku's half-warning, half-screech pulled Sota's attention to the kid's hand, which was reaching for a holster on the side of his pants. For one reason or another, this high schooler had a gun on his person - and he was reaching for it. 

At first, Sota's mind spiraled into mayhem. Was this real? Could he run? Why was this happening to him? Would Riku get shot as well? His heartbeat filled his ears and it was too loud to process much else. He was no longer in-control of himself with this escalation. 

And then his mind went quiet as a small snap popped within him. 

Things slowed down as Sota scanned the room. His instinct had taken over, and it was not concerned with safety. It was focused on malice, and how it could inflict it on this threat. His gaze continued around until they eventually settled on the fireplace. 

Without the slightest hesitation, Sota slammed his heel down on the kid's hand. His full weight caused a noticeable 'crunch' and a loud scream. He didn't register it as he was completely offline. He quickly picked up the kid by the shoulder, dragged him over to the fireplace, and threw his face into the fire. 

Screams let out from everywhere. Including from Sota's mother - who had emerged from her room to investigate the commotion. It signaled to him that things were no longer escalating. After years of training, he was able to use this moment to reign in control of his inner demon. He pulled the kid out of the fireplace and dragged him to safety - he had passed out from the pain and shock. 

The rest of the night was a blur. The police came and took the teenager away in an ambulance. Everyone explained what happened, and it was decided that Sota had acted in self-defense. Things quieted down after, but the night was ruined. Riku was picked up by his parents and brought home, and Sota was left there to ponder what had transpired. 

He had let it take control again - which he hated. What he hated more - however - is that it had once again been effective in solving the problem. 

***

"What do you mean you aren't going back!?"

Sota's mother was furious. Sota - now eighteen - simply hung his shoulders in defeat. 

"I'm done with college," he repeated. "I can't fit in with the others there...I'm too different..."

"And what do you intend to do with your life, then?" his mother yelled. "You're only being allowed to remain here because you were in-college making us proud!"

Sota didn't need a translator to understand that 'make us proud' meant 'make us look like good parents'. He knew that this would be a tough discussion, but he had to get through it. 

"I'll figure something out! I'll go to online college, maybe switch majors to something different? I'll get something sorted out."

His mother wasn't listening at this point. She turned towards Sota's father, who Sota had also asked to be a part of this conversation. He simply sat there and shrugged his shoulders - he was engaged in his phone and disinterested in the dilemma. 

"I'm sorry it has to be this way," Sota apologized. "But if I go back - I don't think I'll walk away alive."

It was an incredibly morbid confession, but a true one. It's not one he wanted to admit out loud, because doing so made the tears begin falling. Still, it was the only choice left. He needed his parents to understand how urgent this was. He waited for his mother's response - now that she knew she wasn't getting any ground with him or his father. 

Reflecting back, Sota wasn't sure what he expected to receive in that moment. Comfort? Empathy? He was never sure, but what he received instead was far more tragic - and more on-brand for his family. 

"Better you off yourself trying than return home as a disappointment..."

The words sliced right through his psyche, This time, there was no restraint that held him back - his mother had just made a non-refundable transaction, and Sota's response was entirely on-instinct. 

It was the first time he had struck his mother since the incident with the telephone. Now, however, he was a grown adult, trained in fighting and significantly more powerful than before. It was immediately enough to send her onto the ground with a scream and terrified eyes. 

It was at this point that Sota's father sprung into action. He leapt towards Sota, but Sota simply caught him by the throat and slammed him into the large bay window that decorated their dining room. 

The moment seemed to freeze-frame as Sota took in the situation. Normally, he had to fight desperately to corral his inner demon. Something was different, now - in the worst possible way. 

He and his demon weren't at odds. Despite the mutual disdain - he and his demon seemed to be in agreement. These people never responded to humanity - only violence. Since that was the only language they spoke, there was no longer any remorse about using it to ensure his own safety. 

Tears continued to flow down his face. He had become the monster he had held off for so long. 

"Don't move!"

The commend was shouted at Sota's mother, who had begun to scramble towards the phone. 

"If I push harder," Sota continued. "Your dear husband will take a trip out this window and will be seriously injured. Then it's just you and me... and the police are quite some distance away."

He was disgusted and horrified with himself - but it was purely a moral dilemma. He did not feel any emotion about his actions at all. 

He had spoken, and they obeyed. A piece of him wished his mother would've taken the risk and called the police anyway. He didn't want his violence to be reinforced, but here they were.

"New arrangement," Sota continued to speak. "We're going to pretend tonight never happened. I'm going to remain in my room, and in return I will continue to protect you two from the violence of my siblings. It's clear neither of you are capable humans that can deal with it. I will keep the peace, and then when the first opportunity arises for me to depart, I will leave this place and never look back. Do we have an agreement?"

The way the final part came out almost made him happy - which only quickly reverberated into more sorrow. Both parents nodded, their eyes wide like creatures intent on survival. 

With that, it was done. Sota's demon receded, and the full moral and emotional weight of his actions began to come down on him. He dropped his father, turned away from the two of them, and quickly retreated to his room.