17. Evelyn
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EVELYN
My surroundings swam into focus as the fog in my mind dissipated. The familiar office took shape around me, leather couch beneath me, clock ticking softly on the wall. And there, across from me, sat Ian. I began to panic, but then something calmed me.
Everything is fine. You have no reason to be upset. In the back of my mind, my conscience told me to run, to panic, but there was no need, really. Ian is your therapist, your safe space.
Um, that wasn’t my voice. Was it?
His posture was relaxed, but his dark eyes bored into me with unsettling intensity.
Oh, I knew what it was that was bothering me. It was him, the man from the shelter. The therapist from my dreams. How was this possible? I’d never laid eyes on him before that strange dream, yet the connection was undeniable.
Not this time. The desire to control this situation made me clench my fists. This was my dream, damn it. I glared at him commandingly. “Let’s switch things up, shall we?”
Ian quirked an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “Switch things up how?”
“Let’s talk about you for once.” I leaned forward. “Who are you really? What are you doing here? Are you even real, or am I just losing my mind?”
A sly grin spread across his angular face. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises tonight.”
He paused, seeming to ponder his next words carefully. “My name is Ian, as you already know. But as for what I am...that’s a bit more complicated.”
Frustration welled up inside me. “Cut the cryptic crap. What are you? A figment of my subconscious? A ghost? A…a demon?” The last word caught in my throat. It sounded insane saying it out loud, yet a part of me already knew...
Ian chuckled, a low, rich sound that reverberated through me. “Would you believe me if I told you I was real? As real as you are, sitting here right now?”
The more Ian spoke, the more my anger rose like a tide. “You think you can just show up in my head, hijack my dreams, rape me and then expect me to be okay with it?”
Ian’s expression remained calm, though I caught a flicker of something darker in his eyes. “It’s good you’re showing a spine, Evelyn. There’s a whole wide world out there, a world of fun, of pleasure, of things you’ve been denying yourself. Take that backbone and grab life with both hands.”
“Fun?” I said. “What do you even mean?”
“You’ve built a cage around yourself, Evelyn. A cage made of rules and guilt and shame. A cage forged with the fires of piety and quenched in sanctitude. But there’s so much more out there. Things you’ve never even allowed yourself to imagine. There are so many delights I can show you.”
His words hit too close to home, and my anger morphed into something more dangerous. Fear. “You’re lying,” I said. “The world is what it is. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Ian’s serene expression faded, and his form shifted, growing larger—much larger. His skin darkened to a deep, midnight blue, sharp bony ridges emerging along his forehead. His presence suddenly filled the room, oppressive and overwhelming.
I stared up at him, my scream catching in my throat as Ian transformed into a terrifying, demonic version of himself. His skin glistened with an otherworldly sheen, his muscles rippling beneath the surface.
This isn’t real! It’s just like the dreams, nothing more. But the sheer detail of his form, the heat radiating from his body, made it impossible to deny.
Memories of him taking me, the pleasure and pain, stole my words.
“Still think the world is as simple as you thought?” Ian said. His voice was deeper now, vibrating through my chest, but it was unmistakably him.
I trembled, my fear palpable, but beneath it all, a strange sense of safety. As terrifying as Ian appeared, some instinct told me he wouldn’t harm me.
My mind spiraled. It wasn’t his strength or power that scared me; it was what his existence represented. Even in my faith, a part of me had always assumed demons were a metaphor, a story to help understand God. At the very least spiritual beings. Not physical.
But if Ian was real, then everything I’d ever believed was wrong. Everything I’d built my life around was a lie. The thought infuriated me, leaving me feeling like my very foundation was crumbling beneath me, untethered and adrift.
I stood abruptly, unable to stay still under my emotions. Pacing the small office, I clenched my hands into fists.
“Stop looking at me like that!” My words echoed around the room as I snapped at Ian. “You think you know everything, don’t you? You think you can just waltz in here and tell me my whole life is wrong?”
Ian watched me with a calm, almost amused expression as he steepled his blue fingers. “I’m just pointing out the obvious. You’ve been depriving yourself of everything good in life, orgasms, laughter, simple pleasures like apple caramel lattes or a lazy afternoon on the couch.”
His words cut deep with the sting of truth. I missed those things. I missed being regular, normal, whatever normal was.
With each word from Ian, my anger grew hotter and hotter until it felt like it would explode. My pacing became erratic, my breathing ragged.
“You don’t get to judge me!” I shouted. “You don’t get to tell me what I’m missing.”
Ian rose from the couch and walked over, closer to me. “I’m just showing you what’s possible. You’re the one holding yourself back.”
That was the final straw. I whirled around and shoved the giant demon with all my strength. To my shock, Ian actually stumbled backward, his massive frame crashing into the wall with a loud thud.
For a moment, the room was silent except for our heavy pants. I stared at my hands, completely shocked. Deep down, I’d assumed I would hit him and he’d barely move. He’d looked like a walking wall of muscle.
“It’s just a dream,” I said. “Just a dream.”
Focusing all my willpower, I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to wake up. The sensation was like being pulled out of deep water, sudden and jarring. When I opened my eyes, I was back in my room, the darkness of reality surrounding me.
My pulse still raced as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The memory of Ian’s words, his form, had been too vivid to dismiss. I touched my forehead, finding the bandage still in place.
Am I losing my mind? Tears welled in my eyes as the enormity of the situation hit me. If Ian was real, everything I thought I knew was about to change.