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=== Prodigal Son ===
Malcolm shivered as the temperature in the room suddenly dropped and his breath fogged out in front him. Goosebumps ran across his skin as the cold seeped through his outer coat and chilled him to the bone. Brow furrowed in confusion and concern, he moved towards the door when it suddenly swung shut with enough force to rattle it in its frame.
“What the hell,” Malcolm muttered as he saw the fog of his breath swirl away in a sudden draft that made him shiver again. He backed up a stumbling step as he watched a vaguely humanoid shape form in the fog of his super chilled breath.
Not wanting to stick around to find out what the hell was going on, he made to skirt around the still swirling shape in front of him and backed up towards the door.
'Oh no you don’t' echoed softly in the room just as the shape lunged for him, pushing a frigid cold draft right through his body and freezing him to the spot.
Pressure built behind his eyes until the pain was a blinding, all consuming agony that drove him to his knees, his hands clutching uselessly at his throbbing skull as he screamed a silent cry that never left his throat.
Before he knew what was happening, his body was making to stand of its own accord and he was walking towards the door. His head still felt tight as a drum and his body freezing and stiff. He tried to stop himself from walking but all it did was make him stumble slightly and send a shaft of pain through his head that almost whited out his vision. He couldn’t help but whimper in his own head as a rasping whisper of a voice echoed through his mind, 'no, no, none of that. We’re gonna have some fun while I’ve got you.'
Malcolm tried to look around himself but couldn’t move anything, not even the direction his eyes were pointing. The resulting spike of pain had him crying out, but no sound came and his lips didn’t even twitch with movement as he continued to walk to the door and pull it open.
He had no clue where he was being taken. He desperately tried to get someone’s attention, to regain control, but nothing worked. No matter what he tried to do; yell, stop walking, grab onto something, it all failed to see his body do his bidding and he walked on unchallenged. He was trapped inside his own body while it was controlled by something…or someone else if the voice that sounded off in his head from time to time was anything to go by. Every time he tried to take back control the voice in his head would scold him and send pain drilling through his head. A few times it had been so intense that he lost a few seconds to minutes of time as everything whited out into all consuming agony. Whenever the pain settled again, and he could string a thought together, he would be further along the journey that the…well he had no other word for it but…spirit…ghost…was making him take. Of course he would be possessed by a ghost of an inmate at Claremont, because that couldn’t possibly end well.
He took a moment to take in the hall he had been compelled to walk down and realised he was getting close to his Father’s cell. A moment of panic coursed through him initially, but then he realised he could try and get Mr David’s attention. The guard had known him since he was eleven years old, surely Malcolm would be able to get him to realise something was wrong.
As he moved closer to the cell, concern started to take over. Why would the entity be taking him to his Father’s cell? What could they possibly get out of him interacting with his Father in his possessed state. Suddenly horrifically vivid images of exactly what the entity had in mind forced themselves painfully into his head. Blinding and slicing images hammered into him, making his head feel like it was splitting in two as vile and disgusting snapshots flashed through his head.
’I’m gonna have so much fun. Martin’s talked about what he’d like to do to a willing victim. Let’s see if he’s got the guts to follow through on it with his own Son,’ the entity muttered with glee, sending a spike of pain through Malcolm’s head that would have had him on his knees if he was in control. All it did this time was make him lose more time so that the next time he became aware, he could see his Father’s cell block ahead and dread dropped heavily into his belly.
How much control did they have, could they really make him do something completely and utterly against his will? The images that had been played in his head like a poor student film done on an old handheld video recorder, gave him a good idea of what they wanted to make him do, but surely, they couldn’t have that much control that he would debase himself like that. Could they?
Before Malcolm could get to the end of that thought he found himself at the door to the corridor that led to his Father’s cell.
His body paused before the door, and he was made to look down at himself. Before he could take in what the entity could possibly be examining, his hands were pulling his tie off and undoing the first couple of buttons on his shirt. Next he was musing up his hair so that he could feel his hair falling down around his face. He tried to resist the movement again and all it did was make his movement jerking and stilted so that his fingers caught and fumbled at pulling at his clothes and gave him a shard of pain that had his vision whiting out for a second.
So he could make some impact, but it was minimal and left him almost passing out in agony, brilliant.
Malcolm sucked in a breath that he did without resistance from the entity in control, as it made him knock on the door and peer into the door’s glass pane. He saw Mr David look over and get up to let him in.
When Mr David greeted him at the door, he desperately tried to get some control but all he managed was to make himself stutter out his greeting, which ended up working in the entity’s favour as it proceeded to make him tell Mr David a tall and elaborate tale of being accosted by someone in the room he had left and coming straight to get Mr David and be in a safe space.
Mr David looked him over and seeing his now dishevelled state, instantly believed him and ushered him into the corridor with him. Mr David went to call in the incident on the wall phone, but the entity must have done something with the phone, or his luck was just that bad, as it was dead in his hands. Mr David apologised and looked between him and his Father’s cell. Then he heard himself ask if he could sit with his Father while he waited for Mr David to go and check it out. His chest tightened as his anxiety spiked and his hand trembled against his thigh as he told Mr David he wanted to see what his Father might know about his attack. Clearly his emotions still had some effect on his body that the entity couldn’t stop or control. It didn’t really help him right now, but maybe he could figure out a way to make his Father see that something was very wrong. As much as his Father was an arrogant ass, he unfortunately knew what made Malcolm tick very well and should be able quickly spot that something was wrong. Maybe he would even be able to convince him to help him.
Mr David looked torn, but eventually nodded and put the dead handset back into its cradle. All the while, Malcolm was raging inside his head trying to tell Mr David that it wasn’t him, and it wasn’t true, but all it did was see him in pain again and wish this could all be over.
Mr David let him into the cell after quickly prepping his father for his visit. Malcolm shivered as he saw his Father look up at him. Malcolm felt himself lick at his bottom lip as his Father’s eyes raked up and down his body, pausing at Malcolm’s open collar and finishing to stare at him with a cocked eyebrow and a small smirk. Malcolm tried to tell himself it wasn’t him in control but all he got was the migraine-like pain again that had his breath hitching in his chest and his fingers twitching at his sides as he tried to reach up to grab at his throbbing head.
Martin frowned at him for a second before appearing to shake it off and smiling and greeting him properly and sympathising with his dishevelled state from the alleged attack that Mr David told him he was now going to investigate. Mr David checked in with him that he would be ok with his Father while he looked for his attacker, and his treacherous body just smiled and waved him on before stepping fully into the room and letting Mr David shut him in.
Malcolm tried to scan the room, but the entity would only let him look at his father and bite at his lips before stepping into his Father's space and slipping his coat off his shoulders to let it pool on the floor behind him. His Father cleared his throat and made a muted gesture towards his less than put together state.
“Are you ok, Malcolm? It looks as though you had quite a morning. But, I have to say, you do wear it well,” his Father commented to him as he continued to look him up and down with a gaze that made Malcolm’s skin crawl, but the entity made him grin back with a flirty smirk.
Malcolm tried to scream that no he wasn’t, that he was trapped and didn’t know what the hell was going on. He tried to yell at him that he needed his help, but all he managed to do was make a small whimper as pain exploded in his head once more. His Father’s expression became quizzical for a second and then a soft smile spread across his face, before it shifted into something that he would expect to see on a predator. Which he suddenly remembered loud and clear that his Father was.
Sweat broke out across his forehead as he realised that he was the prey in this scenario. He tried to back away from him, but he was locked tight in his body and he couldn’t shift an inch as his Father took a step forward, right in Malcolm’s space, almost leaning over him.
Malcolm’s breath caught in his throat as he mind raced trying to understand why his Father could possibly be wanting to get that close. The images the entity had previously supplied, flashed painfully through his mind again as its deep chuckle echoed tauntingly.
“Have I ever told you my boy, just how beautiful you are?” his Father whispered as he leaned in beside his ear, his hot breath brushing over the shell of it, making him tremble in terror. His mind froze on the words, did his Father just say that. He knew his Father was a sick man, but did he really think of him that way, would he really cross that line if allowed to?
Before he could think it through anymore the entity was taking control again and his hands came up to run over the shell of his Father’s ear before he leaned in and pressed his lips to his Father’s. The scratch of his Father’s beard against his own stubble had him screaming in his mind, desperately trying to break free from the control that was making his tongue probe at the seal of his Father’s lips. Malcolm’s stomach flipped and his body swallowed back the bile that burned the back of his throat as pain filled every inch of space in his skull, whiting out his vision again, which just made everything worse as all he could do was feel.
The acceptance of his probing tongue into the hot warmth of his Father’s mouth. The questing push of his Father’s tongue back against his and his Father’s cuffed hands fumbling at his belt buckle to get a hold and pull him firmly against him.
The press of his Father’s erection against his hip was almost his undoing, his stomach clenching at his horror and disgust as his body continued to betray him and ground his hip back to rub against the ridge flesh of his Father’s cock.
“Oh my boy. You don’t know how long I have yearned for this day,” his Father virtually purred into his ear as he pressed himself against Malcolm’s grinding hip.
Malcolm screamed voicelessly and tried to thrash to gain control, but nothing worked to loosen the stranglehold the entity had on him. He could only watch and feel in horror as his body started to undress himself.
First his jacket.
Then his shirt.
The entity taking its time to undo each button with slow calculated actions.
His traitorous fingers tweaking at his nipples sending pleasant sparks of sensation through his chest despite his horror at the situation. His Father had stepped back to lean against his desk, taking in the show his body was making him put on. He shuddered as he watched his Father’s hands cup around the outline of his straining cock in his pants and rub gently as he watched Malcolm divest himself of his belt and pants. Next, he carefully shucked his shoes before stepping out of his pants, leaving him standing in nothing but his briefs before his clearly, very aroused Father.
“Oh my boy, you are a sight for sore and deprived eyes. I was wondering what mischief our resident spirit would get up to. I had left hints, but never in my wildest dreams did I think it would bring me you, my precious boy,” Martin gushed at him as he moved back into Malcolm’s space.
Malcolm’s silent scream echoed through his skull as his controlled body eagerly met his Father’s advance. Malcolm felt tears slip down his cheeks as he felt the soft fingers of his Father’s hand slide past the band of his brief. The cool fingertips tangled into the tight curls nestled over his uninterested cock. The sudden painful grip on his cock had him thrashing and fighting with everything he had against the tight hold of the entity that was forcing him to press up into his Father’s hand. His Father licking his lips in delight as he tugged at his slowly plumping member tipped him over the edge so that he raged at the entity until searing pain drilled into his head. His vision whited out as he soundlessly screamed out his agony until it all got to be too much, and everything dissolved into inky darkness as he consciousness finally slipped away, and he escaped into the hidden recesses of his mind.
===
“Oh my God, Malcolm!” startled him to wakefulness. Mr David hovering over him, his hands reaching out touch but recoiling back in horror as Malcolm flinched in anticipation. His body screamed in distress, skin bruised, torn and bitten to bleeding. Muscles stretched and clenched beyond their limits, leaving just pain and misery in every inch of him.
A quiet whimper left him as the dawning horror of what had happened while he was unconscious and locked in his mind and controlled body. He looked down at himself and cried out his distress at his naked state, the horror of what had gone on, marked across every inch of his body.
“Just lay still, I’ll get a blanket. Don’t move,” Mr David directed him, his eyes filled with sympathy and revolution.
Malcolm shivered as cool air rushed past him, a hint of laughter faintly audible over the hum of the air conditioning. He looked around him sharply, terrified that the entity was aiming for another round in his body. That’s when he realised he was back in the room he’d started in and no longer in his Father’s cell.
’Thanks for the fun playdate with your Daddy dearest,’ the entity’s voice whispering out into the empty room.
Malcolm shuddered, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks as his body trembled and nausea rose in his belly.
’Martin is truly a wicked man. Hmmm, I wonder what it would be like to take him for a ride? Though, I doubt he’d be as easy to take as you were,’ the disembodied voice mused, making Malcolm clench his eyes shut at the implication that he had been an easy target for the predatory spirit.
’All those years of torture you’ve inflicted on yourself, just make it easy to worm my way in through the cracks in your psyche. Again, cheers to Martin for that,’ the spirits' amusement clear in the chuckle that echoed out into the room.
Malcolm curled into himself trying to find any shred of dignity and warmth in the position, but all it did was make every irritated and abraded nerve ending fire off into a cascade of agony that had his muscles clenching down in a seemingly never-ending spasm. A scream locked tight in his throat, unable to escape through his clenched jaw.
In the distance the squeak of rubber shoes over linoleum signalled Mr David’s return. The cold air rushed over him from the tips of his toes across his naked skin all the way up to brush against the bunch of muscle in his jawline.
’Oh sweet Malcolm. The memories you have given me. I will never forget you. And somehow, I don’t think you’ll forget me anytime soon,’ the entity’s laughter was like a tinkling bell as the cold left the room in a rush.
Malcolm couldn’t help the howl that left him as his muscles finally unclenched and the scream that had been locked in his throat for so long escaped, mutated and ripped raw, as he tasted blood in his throat as it forced its way out.
He barely felt the scratch of the rough fleece blanket being draped over his naked form that continued to shiver and trembled despite the warmth the blanket offered. He did hear the concerned voices that surrounded him. Just as he didn’t feel the hands that tried to soothe and care for him. All his felt was an endlessly deep well of cold despair that filled his entire being and blocked out everything around him. Caught in an endless nightmare of flashes of images he didn’t recall experiencing, but could feel the matching rips, tears and bruises in his skin played in an ongoing loop in his head. After all these years of fighting against it, his Father had finally managed to strip away the last thread that held Malcolm tethered and sane.
Every now and then he would drift close to the surface of the well and hear and see glimpses of the familiar. Glimpses of Gil, his Mother and Ainsley, pleading with him to come back to them. Once he’d thought he’d be able to fight his way out when he felt a warm hand hold onto his and squeeze it. Dani’s voice drifted in, telling him that it was ok, that he could fight this, that they would be there for him, that he had nothing to be ashamed or scared of. That they would fight his demons together, no matter what. He just had to come back to them.
But then he thought about how he would tell them what happened, who did this to him, how he had let it happen and he burrowed back into the inviting emptiness and cold, refusing to be fooled into thinking that anyone would understand and believe him. No, it was safer here, in the dark, in the cold. Nothing could touch him, not even his Father.
Then in the dark and the cold, he caught a glimmer of white, the image of a person slowly becoming a more solid form until Malcolm was cowering and scrambling to get away from the image of his smiling Father standing in front of him in the cold otherness.
“Hello my dear boy. It was so sweet of you to bring me in here with you. Oh the fun we will have.”
The last thing Malcolm heard was his own soul shattering scream.
=== Prodigal Son ===