Meeting Demons Stories!
My story is one that I can almost guarantee that millions have felt, but never got to the part where witchcraft was what gave them the will to live. A common reaction to being in spirit work while suicidal is that they wish to join their companions by passing on, but we dont know what will happen after death and even if it were a guarentee, my perspective is a bit different. I had been abused by the people I trusted one after another and they all treated me like a doormat, At that time I was just in highschool and was at my breaking point, when I was in the middle of health class bored out of my wits and feeling the weight of undiagnosed depression sinking into my bones. The white walls blurred out my sense of time and I wasn’t allowed to read or touch my phone to distract myself. I looked up, attempting to bring myself back into reality and saw a man standing in the front of the classroom, which was odd since… my teacher was a woman. He was tall enough that I knew if he stood up straight his head would graze the ceiling, jagged and curled ram horns ready to rake through the plaster tiles. Long black hair falling over his face and down his shoulders, with a torn brown trench coat and a black outfit underneath. A wicked sharp smile on his lips and his nails sharp and coated with black, he looked fascinating. No eyes that I could see but he was looking right at me, his finger curling to gesture that I come with him, I was unable to respond back my body frozen and a warm sensation coating me like a blanket. I felt safe, and I wanted to go with him so badly.
I couldnt open my mouth, but i wanted to ask for his name, everything in me told me I needed to know his name.
“Lore” his name washed over me like a wave and It felt like a comfortable brand on my mind. The next thing I knew is i blinked and he was gone, I spent the rest of the week with my mediocre art skills attempting to draw him so he wouldnt escape my memories, so that I knew what happened was real.
I spoke his name over and over, searing it into my mind as if it were even possible for me to forget the name that when I speak sends goose flesh over my arms.
I spent the next few months, drawing him as I remembered him and feeling his comforting touch whenever I called for him, the touch made me feel sleepy and comfortable and I’ll never forget the first time I truly needed him.
After a fight with my mother over my weight I did what i felt was comfortable and curled under my bed, having a panic attack while I try and collect myself. I felt a touch on my leg, and my panic started to ease, I knew it wasn’t my mother as she would never have comforted me like that, and my panic slowly slipped away. I had the courage to crawl back out of my hiding spot and I just knew it was lore that took the moment to comfort me.
Later I had finally found someone on tumblr that worked with demons that helped me find out who he was and what he wanted, I was informed that he wanted a business deal with me, where he could eat my excess emotions and stabilize me and I would be able to live comfortably. He would be getting free food and I wouldn’t have to worry about having panic attacks everytime my anxiety flared up.
I agreed, and to this day 9 years later we’ve been close friends and I even learned how to speak to and hear spirits just so my best friend and I could communicate.
-Bug
