Elizabeth woke near to her usual time. She in fact surprised her hidden roommate, scrambling with impressive speed to ensure her clock alarm was turned off. A check to see that the new arrival remained asleep and with a sigh the girl got up. She checked that she wasn’t actively bleeding then simply got dressed, snagged a couple slices of bread and quietly quit the apartment without a backward glance.

The demon tried to understand the girl’s barely changed behavior, especially as no authorities came kicking down the door in the ensuing hours. It was late morning when the man the demon had let in roused himself.

“The girl went to work. Good, she’ll keep the lights no. Now, to help her remember where she stands.”

What he proceeded to do was clearly a familiar process to the man. He expressed only minimal pleasure in his destructive behavior. At first it was disappointingly pedestrian to Catharsis as the man simply made a mess of the apartment.

Until he moved on to Elizabeth’s things. He began with a pair of her panties, taking it to the bathroom to pleasure himself, staining the small mirror as best he could, and catching and smearing what missed on the walls with the panties. He then marked each article of her underthings with the dribbles and sweat on his member.

There was clear familiarity with the girl’s habits in the way the man pulled out those edibles Catharsis had watched her carefully preserve and eat them. Everything done in a slow, lazy fashion. The demon had seen depravity, and yet this man managed nearly to surprise the creature.

When he found Elizabeth’s sketchbook, the man actually smiled as he turned, bending to retrieve his knife from where it still stood in the floor. Yet as he turned the knife in his hand, poised to shred the pages, the man paused, looking at the closed door from the apartment. His smile growing he flipped his knife shut, returning it to his belt. The sketchbook was pushed onto the floor, tipped open to a recent page with a toe.

Catharsis did not bother giving the man any further direct attention. The demon could hardly help him become more depraved. Instead it whiled the hours away speculating on the character of his insides. What would Elizabeth make of it if she had to clean the man from the walls, rather than the mess he made?

When Elizabeth returned, near enough the usual time, she did not look surprised by the mess. The man strode across the room, but not toward her. Catharsis noted the practical way the girl had started removing her professional clothes, hesitating as she saw the man stop in front of her sketchbook he’d left open. He looked back at her with feigned sadness as he reached for the zipper of his pants.

“You know you're not supposed to have this.”