As he had expected, his students were furious at him for not having their essays graded. “What the hell, Mr. Saunders?” one boy, Nick, shouted. “You suck.”

“I apologize. I haven’t been feeling well.”

Between Nick and his friend, Tommy, Kyle would have had his hands full. But they were adept at instigating their classmates, and had seemingly turned the whole class against him. “You look hungover to me,” Mackenzie remarked. He was too tired to wonder how a fifteen-year-old girl would know what a hangover looked like. All he could do was ignore her comment, and all the others being directed at him by the rest of the students in his tenth grade History class. If only they put as much effort into their homework as they did in berating him. 

The enthusiasm he had once felt for his job had long ago vanished. Between dealing with Ryka and with kids who had never been taught to respect adults, he wondered why he even bothered getting out of bed in the morning. With a heavy sigh, he told his class to open up their textbooks. 

Not one of them did. But already, less than five minutes into class, he could see cell phones coming out and notes being passed. Three girls in the back of the room were involved in what was apparently a very funny conversation, and Nick and Tommy were preparing to launch a few spitballs in his direction. 

And he still had three more periods of History to teach before he could leave at two. Let me out, Ryka hissed. They walk all over you. They need someone to remind them there’s a Hell. Where most of those little shits will undoubtedly be going.

Kyle wanted to agree, at least with the last part. But he shook his head, as subtly as possible, and lectured to a class that refused to listen.

***

The rest of his day wasn’t as nightmarish as first period, but Kyle was so glad to hear the final bell ring that he practically skipped out of the building. Don’t forget to stop at the liquor store.

“I won’t forget, but is there any way you could please give me a break tonight?”

It seemed to pain the demon to concede use of Kyle’s body to its rightful owner, but he agreed nonetheless. I suppose. But at least have a drink for me.

“Sure.”

One drink had quickly turned into a few. Stretched out on the couch, he set a third empty beer can on the floor. You still seem stressed. Maybe you should jerk off.

“No thanks,” Kyle answered, probably too quickly.

Just a suggestion. It has been a really long time.

Grimacing, Kyle sighed and ignored the comment. He wasn’t interested in talking about himself. “By the way, why have you become such a pain in the ass? You used to be so well-behaved.” For most of the four years they had shared Kyle’s body, Ryka had seemed perfectly content only being allowed out a few times a month to stretch his wings.

With a mental shrug, Ryka told him, Guess I got tired of playing human.

“What do you mean? I haven’t forgotten what you are, if that’s what you’re implying.”

It’s not that you’ve forgotten, you just never fully understood. Even when we first met, I wasn’t an innocent little cherub. Demons are demons, no matter what size. I’ve been fighting my nature to help you get used to this, and it’s exhausting. 

“It’s hard to think like that, but I’m trying. And I appreciate that.” Kyle could almost feel Ryka’s frustration. He was so happy to be having a serious conversation with the demon, and he didn’t want him to be discouraged.  “What can I do to help, Ryka?”

Stop thinking of me as a helpless kid. I never was.

With a pang, Kyle realized he’d been doing exactly that. “I didn’t mean for it to end up that way. Maybe it was because you always acted so interested or surprised when something was new. It seemed so innocent, I guess.” 

I was behaving that way because … Ryka trailed off with a growl, and Kyle’s vision went red. Gasping, he squeezed his eyes shut. This conversation was starting to go downhill. 

“I’m sorry. Believe me, it’s much harder to think that now.” When he opened his eyes, the world was no longer tinged scarlet, but his heart was hammering away, and not to any emotion he was feeling.

Maybe playing wasn’t the right word. But I’m tired of waiting.

“For what?” Kyle queried, a little worried to know what for. 

And his apprehension was enough to deter Ryka from answering the question. Things are just … different … now. 

Desperate, Kyle kept trying. “What’s changed? Is there something else I did? Please tell me.” 

It felt like Ryka was on the verge of an admission. And then, to Kyle’s dismay, the demon’s truer nature won out. I’m sick of holding back. I’m pent up, if you catch my drift. Four years is way too long to go without. This body is fun - at least one of us should get some use out of it. Which reminds me, maybe you can stop by that store with the black windows and get something I can shove up -

“Definitely not!” He didn’t mean to sound so stern, but he had just wanted Ryka to tell him what was going on. Of course, it was easy for Ryka to find ways to hurt him in return.

That’s funny, because it looks to me like you’ve had plenty of experience. The demon’s past was a complete mystery to him, but his was on full display for Ryka, Kyle’s memories queued up like what was probably the most boring video streaming service ever. And it was obvious when his past was being examined – still frames of the events flickered through his thoughts, and there was an annoying itch somewhere behind his eyes. 

“Ryka ….” 

 Too bad you threw away all the fun stuff right before I showed up. I blame that fucking asshole who -

“Enough! I said ‘no’ and I meant it.”

I’ll make do with what I’ve got. Kyle very much wanted to argue, but hadn’t he already learned what a pointless exercise that was? And how come you want me to open up, but you won’t?

“Please, Ryka.” 

For once, he could tell Ryka was going to submit. It made him nostalgic for the early days, when the demon had called him “Master” and only come forward when he was summoned. But he tried to quickly brush the thought aside. 

Too late. Besides, you stopped summoning me. I had to do something to get out. 

“Please get out of my head.”

It’s all I can do since you won’t be honest with me. Or yourself.

The words stung, and Kyle instinctively snapped back “Would you really be any better if I had continued to call you out?” To this, there was no reply. “I thought as much. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I do miss those days when instead of drinking myself sick every night, I used to just be eating ice cream until I puked. And you always asked so nicely.”

Guess my tastes have changed. Like I said, one of us should at least be having fun, right? Ryka was obviously done with this discussion. Before Kyle had the chance to even open his mouth, Ryka had moved on. But anyhow, what do you want to do about those brats in your first period class?

“Don’t worry about it. Please. Just let me handle it.”

The cackling laughter in his head made Kyle wince. You pussy, you won’t do a damn thing. You’re lucky that I can’t come out on my own during the day. I’m so hungry; I could use the meal.

His skin crawled at Ryka’s admission. He was somehow supposed to be upholding his part of the contract by supplying his parasite with the things he truly fed on – fear most of all. So Kyle really was lucky in that regard. Ryka shouldn’t have been able to come out at all without being summoned, it was one of the rules of being a parasite demon, but he had found a way around that. 

It seemed he was only able to do so at night. There was lingering fear wafting around from a species evolved to be diurnal hunters; humans were instinctively afraid of things that went ‘bump’ in the night, and hosting the worst of those things, Kyle understood why. It wasn’t much, but it had been enough for Ryka to power through without waiting for Kyle to summon him. And Kyle was sure it was only a matter of time before he’d figure out how to take over during the day as well. And a way to get what he needed, with or without Kyle’s help.

“How have you made it this long without?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but there it was.

It’s not enough, but you’re surrounded by misery at work. The teachers hate their lives, despise their students, then feel bad for feeling that way. The kids are even better. They worry about being too smart, or not smart enough. About things never getting better, or getting even worse. They hate themselves and each other. Nonstop guilt and paranoia. It’s done the job, but I need more. Something bigger.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Let me out.

“I can’t. Please.” How was his own fear not enough? Especially in addition to that laundry list of suffering Ryka had just described for him.

Much to Kyle’s surprise, he could feel Ryka letting go some of his hold on Kyle. I don’t mean to be such a pain. I can’t help myself. And you’ve been a good host. I want to help you.

“I appreciate that. But it really wouldn’t be a good idea to let you out in class. So, if you want to help, let me get some work done.” Silence greeted Kyle’s request, and he took it as consent. “Thank you, Ryka.”

***

This time, Kyle only had himself to blame for long, sleepless nights. He had finally managed to get caught up on his grading, but the work had kept him busy until nearly dawn two nights in a row. Ryka had even helped, making sure Kyle stayed awake long enough to finish everything.

Though, once more, Kyle found himself falling asleep in the teacher’s lounge. Rise and shine, stud. I heard the bell. 

“Don’t call me ‘stud,’” he mumbled, garnering him concerned looks from the other teachers in the room. His face was still red when he walked into his classroom, five minutes late. And he could have sworn that, before he showed up, all twenty students appeared to be on their best behavior.