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Jonathan and Sock were finally starting to get along. As soon as he had gotten over the whole “demon” thing, Jonathan actually found Sock was rather pleasant. He was certainly interesting, a nice break from every typical, boring person from school.
Sock understood him, his loneliness.
But sometimes, he was too much.
One of these instances occurred while they were walking home. Jonathan walked with his hands shoved in his pockets, slouched till he was practically bent over, while Sock floated about two feet off the ground, chattering happily. Jonathan wasn’t really listening to the story as much as he was just watching. The way Sock moved and spoke was very lively, considering he was dead. That could explain why Jonathan didn’t notice the much larger boy walking behind him, arms crossed in front of his chest and a smirk on his face.
Sock, on the other hand, had noticed. But he just assumed that this was one of Jonathan’s friends maybe, or probably just some guy who walked the same route home as him. But now that the other boy had stopped walking, Sock could tell that his face was painted with malice. And that malice was directed straight at Jonathan.
The other boy, only a few yards back from the pair, bent down. In his hand, he grasped a smooth stone, about the size of a plum. He grinned, eyes trained on the back of Jonathan’s head.
“Jonathan. Duck.” Said Sock, eyes wide.
“Huh? Why?” Asked Jonathan. As he turned around to face whatever had Sock so freaked out, he made eye contact with the other boy.
Zack.
As the rock was flung from his fisted hand, Jonathan hit the ground, with a speed Sock hadn’t realized Jonathan even possessed. The stone sailed over Jonathan’s body, and straight through Sock. It didn’t hurt, but he did sort of feel its weight. And it was pretty damn heavy. Thank god I’m not a solid form, Sock thought to himself. That could have killed someone. Jonathan...
“You missed, Asshole!” Jonathan called triumphantly from the ground.
“Whatever, Freak. You still talking to yourself?” Zack wasn’t smirking anymore. Just scowling.
“You still not talking to Cindy?” Asked Jonathan, getting up from the ground.
Zack gritted his teeth, fists balled at his sides. “You shut up about her, okay? She’s not into gay dudes anyway.”
“Weird, since I’ve still got her number. You wanna talk to her?” Jonathan asked, waving his phone in one hand. He was grinning now.
“Fuck you, Jonathan.”
“I thought you were only into chicks.”
“You know that’s not what I meant, but whatever.” Zack turned around and started walking in the opposite direction, mumbling angrily to himself. Jonathan watched him go until he was well out of sight, then turned back to Sock.
“Jonathan! What the hell was that!” Sock yelled exasperatedly, gesturing to the place Zack had been standing only minutes before.
“Oh that? That was Zack.” Jonathan seemed rather uninterested, as if this happened all the time, but his heart was pounding and his breathing was labored. “He’s just some guy from school.”
“J-just some guy-? Jonathan he almost killed you!”
“Isn’t that kinda what you want though?"
The question made Sock feel extremely uncomfortable. Technically, yes, it was his job and he’d be fired if he didn’t do it, but on the other hand…
“My job is to make you kill yourself-”
“Which you totally suck at, by the way.”
“Not let some creep kill you.”
Jonathan sighed. “You’re overreacting. It was just a rock.”
Sock frowned. “Jonathan, it went right through me okay, I felt it. It was pretty damn heavy, and-”
“But I’m fine. Let's just go home, okay?” Jonathan looked as if he didn't really want to discuss its any further, so of course Sock had to ask about it more.
“Who's Cindy?”
Jonathan smiled. “She's Zack’s ex girlfriend. He's not talking to her because she got drunk and made out with me at a party.”
“You get invited to parties?” Sock asked, laughing as he did so.
“Uh, yeah. Like a lot. But then the thing with Cindy happened, and then Zack started bad-mouthing me around school, and then you came along…” Jonathan trailed off, not smiling anymore.
“Oh.” Sock said, staring at the ground.
The rest of their walk/float home was in silence.
Sock had taken to reading in the guest room of Jonathan’s house. Since demons didn’t really need to sleep, he spent most of the time when Jonathan was asleep reading. When Sock was alive, he hadn’t loved reading. In fact, he had sort of hated it. It reminded him too much of school, which had been… Tough, to say the least.
But now that he was dead, memories of school faded more and more everyday. School, friends, even his parents… They were drifting away from him. Maybe it was for the best.
As he turned the page solemnly, he heard a rustling from the next room. Footsteps on the wood floor, a muffled chrrrr as the window was opened, a solid thud as something fell onto the grass in front of the house…
Why the hell would Jonathan be sneaking out this late at night?
Sock hadn’t meant to follow Jonathan out, but staying still proved too difficult for him. He was very curious, afterall. Plus, there wasn’t much chance of Jonathan discovering him, since he didn’t make any noise with footsteps. So he followed Jonathan, who ducked into different alleys and side streets until Sock was certain he had no idea where they were.
Finally, Jonathan stopped. It was a dead end. On one side, the street they had came from. On the other, a brick wall, too high to scale. Jonathan checked his phone, seemingly bored. It read 12:47.
“He’s late…” Jonathan muttered.
He? Who was He? Sock was becoming rather frantic. A part of Sock wanted to just come out of hiding, drag Jonathan home, forget about all this. But it didn’t feel right.
A few more minutes passed by. Jonathan hummed to himself, Sock sat slumped against the wall, arms wrapped around his knees.
They heard footsteps on the gravel. Sock shivered, while Jonathan just smiled grimly.
“I didn’t think you’d show up.” Said a voice from the other end of the alley.
Zack.
“Oh really? Why’s that?” Asked Jonathan, hands in his pockets.
The footsteps grew closer, and the voice louder. “Because you’re gonna get your ass kicked, pussy.” Zack grinned.
Jonathan just rolled his eyes. “You’re sure confident.”
“Wouldn’t you be?” Zack asked, head tilted to one side. “If you were me, I mean”
Jonathan just shrugged. “I suppose. Captain of the Titanic was pretty confident, wasn’t he?”
“Huh?” Said Zack, perplexed. Sock laughed to himself.
“Oh nevermind.” Jonathan shoved his phone into his pocket. “We doing this or what?”
“You bet we are, Jona-fag.”
“Ooh, nice one. Let’s go.” Jonathan said, rolling his eyes.
Zack swung a punch at Jonathans jaw, but it only met air. He was strong, but not as fast as Jonathan. Meanwhile, Sock gripped his sleeves, shuddering in fear. Zack had missed, but he had been awfully close…
Jonathan darted behind the other boy and gave him a hard shove. He stumbled, but didn’t fall. They were both breathing hard, but Jonathan didn’t seem to be bothered.
“You’re dead,” Zack panted.
He reared up, teeth bared in anger. He grabbed Jonathan's bony wrists in each of thick hands, crushing them as he did so.
Jonathan winced, but still pushed back as hard as ever. But he just wasn’t as strong.
Sock watched in horror as Zack pushed Jonathan into a wall, kneeing him hard in the stomach. Jonathan attempted to break free, but he looked like he was in a lot of pain, and Zack just wasn’t loosening up.
“F-fine dickhead, you win, just let me go-” Jonathan’s plea for mercy was cut off by another swift kick to his jaw, as he was shoved down to the cold pavement.
“You think you’re giving up yet? You think you’re in charge? You think this is your choice?” Zach laughed, kicking down hard into Jonathan’s chest.
Jonathan yelled out in pain, but there was nobody to hear him. Except Sock.
Blood gushed from the side of Jonathan’s head, arms laying lifelessly at his side.
Sock knew he had to do something, he had to, but what- Suddenly it hit him.
Being a demon came with many interesting bonuses. He could phase through solid objects, had amazingly sharp senses, and, one that had frightened Sock a bit at first- Possession. Demons could control the form of anything, living or dead.
Sock had taken the form of a book or a sandwich to mess with Jonathan, but never a living thing. The thought was daunting, to say the least.
He gazed down at the knife still in his hand. Then at Jonathan, laying on the pavement, struggling feebly, as Zack punched and kicked and tore at him-
He didn’t have any choice. Sock couldn’t do any harm in this ghost-like state, but with Jonathan’s body… He just had to make the decision.
Sock’s form filled Jonathan’s body, his spirit taking control of every muscle, every nerve, every bone. It felt amazing to be a fully-tangible being, feel his body on the ground. Jonathan’s soul was still there, but it was dormant, sleeping. Sock was in charge.
He didn’t feel any of the pain that Jonathan must have felt only moments before. That pain was replaced with pure adrenaline, a force driving this bruised body he now possessed to fight whatever challenged him. And Sock would sure as hell use it.
As Jonathan’s eyes shot open and his teeth gritted in determination, Zack’s step faltered. Sock used this opportunity to manipulate Jonathan’s body to grab Zack’s ankle and twist hard, causing him to fall to the ground with a sickening thud. Sock gripped the knife, now in Jonathan’s hand. It felt amazing.
Zack was shaking in fear. Only moments before he had been on top, but now he cowered and shuddered.
“H-Hey man,” Zack shuddered, “Where’d y-you get the knife?”
Jonathan didn’t answer. He just stood there, knife in hand, pale moonlight illuminating his face, grinning. The feeling that Sock had missed ever since he died and became a demon was back, and it felt so good.
“Jonathan. I’m not fuckin’ play’n with you man.” Zack was attempting to steady his voice, but it was obvious he was scared out of his mind.
Sock giggled. Jonathan's voice was a lot lower than his. He liked it.
“Jonathan isn't here right now,” Sock said, keeping one foot square on Zack’s chest to keep him steady. “You may leave a message after the beep.”
Sock got down, straddling Zach’s hips as he shuddered in fear, holding him down with his weight. Then, without warning, Sock thrusted the knife into Zach’s chest.
Zach screamed out in pain, but there was no relief. The knife entered him again, again, each time in a different place.
“Beep. Beep. Beep.”