A possession was not something that happened quickly. It was slow. It was silent. It was unpredictable.
Davis knew the feeling of it. At the beginning, it was just influence. Through his psychology class, he had learned the term ‘intrusive thoughts,’ and while it usually applied to suicidal or obsessive thoughts, it still seemed to fit. They were thoughts that weren’t his own, building up his emotions, attempting to convince him of easy solutions. Those solutions were typically very illegal. If he noticed them, that was his first sign.
Sometimes, they were too subtle. Sometimes, it was as innocent as imagining an applause or receiving an award. It was when those thoughts turned into plots of sabotage or bribery that he caught it—and sometimes, even catching it at that stage was too late.
And it hurt. It was as if the entity sprang into attack mode once Davis was aware of it. Sharp spikes of pain in concentrated areas that soon after spread like fire, leaving his nerves exposed and his body sounding the alarm. It took everything he had to not give in. He knew if he gave in, the pain would be gone. The demon would grant him that. But there would be pain afterwards, if he survived it. He knew it too well and he could not, would not, live through it again.
A possession was slow, from beginning to end, and it hurt the whole time.