Demonic Possession and the Reluctant Slave Girl Bound for Hell After getting home from school, Sara threw her bag down on the floor and plopped on the couch, planning on watching some tv and relaxing. It had been a rough week. She had had three tests, extra long soccer practices, and her boyfriend, Dave, had dumped her for some slut named Brii. Not to mention, her father had been acting very strange lately. Usually, he got home around 7 o’clock from work. He had taken the entire week off, but instead of explaining why, he had been avoiding Sara, or so it seemed, except to tell her to leave him be; he would be working in his study in the basement. And that was where she assumed he was now. From her vantage point on the couch, Sara looked down at her body, wondering what Brii had that she didn’t. She was skinny yet muscular, thanks to soccer, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes. At 5’8, she only weighed about 120 lbs. Her breasts were 34C, with a nice ass to match. Dave and her, both seniors, had had great sex. Well, at least she thought it was great. I guess that slut freshman, Brii, is even better, thought Sara. Pushing it out of her mind, tv forgotten, she got up from the couch and walked down the steps in search of a sweatshirt of Dave’s that she had borrowed a few days earlier. Maybe I’ll burn it instead of returning it, she thought. She was about to turn into the laundry room when she heard a strange noise. It sounded faintly like chanting. She inched closer to her father’s study, straining to make out the deep, smooth hum of words. Stopping at the frame, she put her ear up close to the door. It was definitely her father’s voice, speaking what was definitely a different language. Sara placed her small hand on the handle and slowly inched the door open. In the center of the room kneeled her father. All the furniture had been pushed to the walls to make room for the huge pentagram that had been scrawled in black chalk across the concrete flooring. Still kneeling and swaying before the circle, Sara’s father continued to chant foreign words, unaware of her presence. Soon, her father started to chant faster and louder, the desperation in his voice was very apparent. All of a sudden, a gust of wind with the force of miniature tornado blasted through the room. Bracing herself, Sara clung to the door frame, while her father got blasted back onto the floor. …and then things took a turn
