The Devil's Apprentice by Patrick Stewart (polar express read aloud TXT) 📕

were double doors of dark wood on either side. At the end was a staircase that disappeared into darkness. Alex had a feeling that was where he would be going, up into the darkness.

He was right.

As they brought him to the first step, the voice in his head made an unwelcome return.

“Can’t go up there,” it said. 

“You’re back.” 

“It’s your body, dude. It’s fucking useless. Normally by now, I’ve taken control of the host and we’re doing awesome stuff, killing demons, angels-”

“Take control?” Alex asked, alarmed.

“What?” the voice asked, it’s tone condescending. “You should be glad someone like me is trying to take control of this useless body. Seriously, ever heard of the gym. Or a vegetable?” 

“I eat plenty vegetables, twat,” Alex muttered.   

Scarlett, who was three steps ahead of him, stopped to look back. “What did you say?”

“...nothing.”

“He’s talking to himself,” the guy with the blonde hair said. “He’s a complete nutter. What does Satani see in him?”

Scarlett turned an insolent eye on him. “That’s none of your concern, Jose.”

Jose lowered his head deferentially. “Of course, mistress Scarlett.”

Scarlett’s black eyes returned to Alex. “You eat vegetables? That’s an odd thing to say.”

She’d heard him. “Uh, not really,” Alex said, trying to think quickly. “Just letting you know I’m health conscious. You know, if you decide to not rip my soul out? I could be useful?”

“He’s in there, isn’t he?” Scarlett’s lips spread into that beautiful but frightening grin. “I’ve never seen him this weak, this pathetic. He’ll be gone soon.”

They reached the top of the stairs. The light appeared suddenly as if a door had been opened. To the left was an open library. There were rows of shelves stacked with large leathery books. The spines showed wear and tear around the edges. In the centre of the library was a small seating area lit by a lamp with the face of a smiling demon. It looked eerily like a Halloween lantern.

Past the library was a glass greenhouse, except there wasn’t much greenery. The plants were weird and wonderful. Most were a dark red, others were yellow, some were purple, some looked like mutated cactus plants. Pretty much all of them had sharp spikes and thorns protruding out of every leaf and branch.

In the centre a few meters away from the stairs were three antique settees. The frames golden, the cushions were of leather. They were arranged around a dark wooden tea table on which rested three black cups and a golden teapot with a long-elongated spout.

Straight ahead were double doors with golden door knobs set amongst the black ink like wood. To the right were three more doors. It was the middle door towards which Jose and the other man dragged him.

The room had an old-fashioned infirmary feel to it. There was a chowki bed in the centre. Attached to each corner of the chowki were manacles. Alex was thrown at it with some force. The two men then walked out, leaving him alone with Scarlett.

“Take your clothes off.”

“Sorry?”

“Strip naked, then lie on the bed in a star shape.” Scarlett sounded bored, as if she regularly kidnapped men, then told them to strip and imprison themselves to await what would surely be torturous.

“What if I didn’t?” Alex asked. “I mean, your hot. But I’m not really into the freaky stuff, least not on a first date.”

Scarlett’s eyes bore into him. “You talk too much.”

She might have had a point. Alex’s inability to keep his mouth shut had gotten him into a fair few scraps in the past. This looked like it might be another one of those times. Scarlett walked up to him with her right hand curled into a fist. He knew what was going to happen next, but he was powerless to stop it.

He barely saw her fist, so fast did it move as it connected with his ribcage. Alex crumpled over and dropped to his knees coughing. Tears started to run down his eyes. Scarlett grabbed him by neck and easily lifted him onto the wooden bed.

Alex lay on it, his eyes blurry from the pain, he was glad for some respite. He was aware of movement around him, of his arms and legs being tugged. By the time he opened his eyes and raised his head, Scarlett had fastened the manacles to his wrists and ankles.

She stood over him and held her hands out. Sharp claws extended from her nails. “I did ask you to strip,” her voice was strangely diplomatic. “If I cut you, you only have yourself to blame.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Alex told her as he struggled against his bonds.

“You’re a loser,” the voice made an unwelcome return. 

Alex stopped struggling, annoyed by its return. “You want to help? Cuz if you can’t, I’d appreciate it greatly if you fucked off?”

“Oooh look at you all swearing and stuff,” the voice said. “You can’t win without me and I can’t seem to take control of your stupid body. You might as well give up and let the end come. You’ve lived a good life, haven’t you?” 

“No… I haven’t lived a good life!” 

“Yeah, that’s right,” the voice chuckled. “You’re going to die a virgin, dickweed.”

Alex didn’t get to continue his shitty conversation with the voice in his head. His attention was taken completely by Scarlett and her claws. She slashed at his chest, and Alex screamed.

Scarlett pulled his torn t-shirt off, leaving his chest exposed. “You are such a pussy,” she muttered.

Alex stopped screaming and raised his head. There were no cuts or blood. His heart still thumping, he let out a nervous laugh. Scarlett had torn his t-shirt with impossible precision. She placed a hand on his waist. Her nails dug into his jeans. The sharp tips poked at his skin.

“Don’t