All Chapters of YOURDEMONS.: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

"...." A shiver crawled up Bart's spine. A shiver unprecedented - and unsettling.Mallory continued to walk backward, acting as if the context of what she said was just the prelude to a joke. Staring at the calm glow in her eyes, Bart knew that what she mentioned wasn't for laughs. Mallory inhaled deeply.  "When I was young, my parents worked a lot. Not a day passed that they were at home for more than 4 hours a day, because they were always needed on the field. They were civil architects. I was proud of them, and the fact that they were always busy didn't bother me. In fact, it made me wish that I was a grown-up. So I can be where they were, making all the pretty buildings for people to live in.""Then again, it came to their attention that I was always alone in the house. They were troubled that I wouldn't have anyone to talk to. Granted, the maids were always there, but they didn't want me to bother

Bart's hands moved, embedding lead across the paper's surface.He had to do it. The urge to draw was there. He had to see it in a better perspective than thought.The thing he saw as he blinked at the near end of the anonymous Chitter post. Heading home after he escorted Mallory and fumbled into opening the social media app, Bart stumbled upon the post and read to the bitter end. As much as he wanted to skip it at first, there was something about the writer's sequence of words that drew his attention, and by the time he was done an image flashed in his head and caught him off-guard.The image was an abrupt greeting. Almost as if it wanted to greet him. Bart quickly bolted home. Up the stairs and to his room, he fetched a pen and paper. He did a sketch of the phantom in his head with every detail he could remember.Seconds later, Bart lifted the paper up and stared at the finished product.It sent a chill do

The past few days for Bart have been filled with a mixed bag of sleepless nights, heightened awareness and paranoia.Ever since he woke up from that alarming nightmare, the boy had been putting his guard up at every possible turn. He was now aware of his situation more than ever. More so than when he was thinking his demon Navalha was more like an invisible pet. Bart knew his dream was an eventuality. And that he had to do something to save his neck.It was either he learns to control the demon, or it kills him first. Before he even knew it, Bart's days went on seemingly like a blur. As he stayed within the walls of his house, he would study lessons in advance thanks to the guide written for him by Mallory (who continually calls him every now and then much to his annoyance), and fill his journal of further observations on Navalha's behavior. Despite his unwitting anxiety as a result of the nightmare with him and the demon, Bart

The perplexed stares around campus didn't bother him.As soon as Bart entered Eldridge College grounds for the first time after his suspension, the early morning repertoire of student banter came to a halt. Obviously, the sight of him walking alongside Mallory Nelson was the source of their confusion.In other words, they were trying to comprehend what the fuck they're looking at. Bart wasn't particularly interested on shedding light to that aspersion. His thoughts were drawn to something else - reading the posts from the Chitter identity Que Mio one by one.The boy knew what he was getting into. The first time he read a random post from that online writer, he was greeted by a visage that appeared to him as he blinked. A distorted face with an open mouth ridden in countless needles.As graphic as that image was, there was something haunting about the essays Que Mio posted. He figured out they weren't just a poetic way of illustrating

The sudden mention of the word 'demon' threw Bart off in a relative degree. Maybe it's because he's been using the word to describe the hulking monster that lives with him, breathes with him, and possibly plots to kill him one day in his sleep.Maybe it's because he now associates the term with the dread he feels whenever he's sleeping next to the aptly-named Navalha. Regardless, Bart turned his head to the direction of a smiling Mr. Cypress. He could feel a twinge of unease crawling up his nerves.Somehow, he was glad Navalha wasn't around. The unease might just worsen with him seeing it. "D.. Demons, sir?" "Yes!" Mr. Cypress said in a heartbeat, clasping his hands together. He was clearly interested on the subject, as he had a lit expression all over his face. Bart didn't have the heart to opt for a change in topic. "See, I'm researching on the essence of demonic ref

"Mallory.""Mm?"There was a subtle grunt of protest from Bart. A grunt that could be interpreted as part-confusion and part-irritation. His steps dragged upon the cemented pavement in unease."I thought I asked you to take me to where Que Mio is. You're bringing me to your neighborhood."Mallory glanced at the boy behind her, casting him an eerie smile as they walked."Exactly." It took but a minute for Bart to realize what she meant.Que Mio - the Chitter writer that spoke of demons - lived closer to him and Mallory than he thought. Here, in Mallory's subdivision, was another human who was suffering the same thing as them. Someone who definitely knew what the hell was going on.Someone that could give him answers. Entering the streets that led to Mallory's house, everything was quiet. The evening sun was just rolling in, and there were occasional vehicles driving past them. Bart cautiously t

Bart wasn't prepared for a demon to carve his face into a bloody mess.Frozen in his seat, the boy saw a blur from where Eliza's demon stood - and without warning, a disfigured hand was now in front of him, inches away from digging into his eyes with empty pen cartridges-for-fingers.Murcible's hand was violently swatted aside. The sound of bone snapping was heard across the room, and Murcible waddled backward, growling like a bear with a carved-out throat.Generating a throbbing red eye in its canvas of a face, it glared at its hand- bent backward by a dislocated wrist. It looked towards Bart's direction. A clawed hand slowly pulled away, coming from Navalha who was obviously not happy with the other demon's stunt. His guttural growling deepened and his back hunched for what looks like a plan to pounce - "NAVALHA." Bart's voice was loud. Firm.An attempt for a command. As

 "... you're seriously saying someone did this?"Bart was shaking in anger. Whether it was bought upon by Navalha or his own inner seething, he couldn't care less.What mattered was the context that Eliza the writer-Branded was explaining that made his blood boil."Someone planted this on us and is watching us suffer with these... THINGS messing with our heads?!" Eliza raised her hands to the side in response."Please. I know you're troubled about this, but hear me out."Eliza pointed at the brand on the back of her hand. "These marks, as unnatural as their appearance may have been, are sigils. Symbols found in pagan religions to invoke something. In this case, it's a 'bridge' to connect places that the mundane don't usually see. Places of spirits.. the de

 Bart didn't really know why he told Mallory the meaning behind the scars of his hand. Maybe it was under the presumption that if he continued to keep it a secret, it was bound to come out in a time that he'd least expect it.

 ".... Bartholomew Owens." Bart flicked his head away from the window in alarm. He was caught spacing out at the expanse outside the classroom - and for it, he had the class' eyes all turned to his direction as the voice of an elder woman that demanded attention called for him.