Lily looks into Barney's eyes and she knows somehow that it isn't Barney staring back at her. She knows a second before he blinks and baby-blue is replaced by the inky-black of the demon. He's lit behind by the sparkling of lights from the Christmas tree, shooting rainbow colours through his hair like a halo. Like he's some sick, twisted version of an angel.
This close, she can smell him and he doesn't smell right. He smells off, like something rotting. Like something evil.
Her hands tremble on his chest and she wants to plead but she knows it'll do her no good, his hands are between her legs - she knows they are his hands, not Marshall's, because she can feel her husband's hands, both of them, clamped firmly on her bare hips, keeping her locked in place between them.
Lily knows it's not her husband's hands, not really. His hands are being controlled by the filthy thing that's inside of him, as Barney's are. Barney just wears evil a little better, that's all. The change in him isn't so shocking.
A gasp escapes her lips, a cry of pain as Barney viciously pinches her clit and lights a fire that blazes inside her, that makes her wet and dripping for him. Because despite how fucked up this is, how scared this is, how Barney tortures her with his words, with his descriptions of what they're going to do to her, Lily's painfully aroused.
She hates herself for it, but her a dark hunger rages through her. She's almost at the point of begging him.
The two of them already stripped her bare, used her mouth, degraded her. She tried to resist, but they have a weapon more powerful than she can stand.
Barney tugs his cruel hand away from between her thighs, grabs her shoulders and turns her around so that she's facing her husband- No, the thing that's controlling her husband.
The demon.
"Marshall!" Lily sobs, and the thing relents, maybe taking sadistic pleasure in allowing Marshall to see, for a moment, just what he and Barney are doing to his wife.
"Baby!" Marshall manages, his jaw working overtime, like he's struggling with the darkness inside him. "Lil, don't fight. You can't fight. Just let them… just don't get hurt. I love-"
But then he's cut off, a tear still glistening on his cheek as the demon regains possession once more, riding her husband, wanting to ride her.
"Marshmallow's gonna fuck your ass, sweet Lilypad," the demon-Marshall sneers, twisting her lovely husband's gentle voice, abusing their terms of endearment.
"Ooo, good idea, Bro!" She can hear Barney's voice behind her and, damn it, he sounds no different. It twists her stomach because every secret fantasy she's had of Barney, of Marshall, of riding the tricycle with them, every little dirty thought is being perverted, played out in Technicolor. She can't help but cry out as she feels Barney's fingers invade her again, shoving deep inside her, finger fucking her painfully until she's writhing, pushing back on to those demon digits, allowing Marshall to watch her arousal.
Allowing her husband to witness her enjoyment in being debased, being used by another man.
Because Lily knows Marshall's still in there. In the brief seconds when the demon possessing her husband allows them to communicate, she can see the horror in Marshall's eyes. He's locked inside, a spectator while his wife is ravaged.
Barney forces a moan from her as he pulls her buttocks wide and wriggles a finger against her ass. She bites back a yelp of pain, knowing that the more she shows them it hurts, the more they dish it out. He jaw still aches from where Barney slammed it with an uppercut.
And still she's sickeningly aroused, the liquid heat now making her crazy.
"Dude," he husband laughs. "I'm not fucking this slut dry, man. I want some slip and slide!"
Barney laughs in response and they let her go. She staggers back, watching Barney tilt his head back and chortle, wondering if she can find a knife, go for the long column of his throat. She no longer cares that her friend is locked inside there. After what he's made her do, what he's intending to make her do, she'd have no remorse in gutting him.
Marshall, however…
Marshall stands docilely, grinning, as Barney casually asks her to go get him a can of Red Bull from the refrigerator, like she's not naked and bruised and they aren't… They aren't…
Lily stumbles into the kitchen, grabs the Red Bull and tosses it to Barney, who catches it nimbly and throws it back like a softball.
"Play with yourself," he laughingly orders her. "Stick it up inside you and I'll drink it from your pussy."
Lily's legs almost give way. There is no way… no way in hell that she's going to obey him. No matter what they do to her, to Marshall. No more.
But Marshall is so strong, and Barney so quick, and soon her husband has a bottle of olive oil and Barney's got the can of Red Bull and Lily's caught between their two bodies once more.
She tries not to think about it as Marshall's big fingers probe her ass, as she feels the warm, sticky oil dribble down the back of her legs. She tries not to concentrate on the chill of the aluminium can as Barney presses it against her nipples, as he pops the ring and sprays the fizzing liquid over her breasts.
Lily tries to block out their laughter and the awful pain of her husband's penetration. Marshall's never fucked her in the ass before - he's so huge, they were both scared he'd hurt her.
It hurts her.
She can feel the tears even as she tries to hold them back, then Barney's tongue dragging along her cheek to capture the salt moisture, then the empty can forced between her legs.
She butts up against it as the force of Marshall's penetration shoves her into Barney's arms, pushes her bare breasts against Barney's chest, as she feels the hard metal bite into her clit and she screams.
It's impossible to notice, it's impossible to feel, but somehow she still does, she's aware when Barney's dick replaces the can and they are both fucking her, one hard column plugging her ass, one up inside her and the pain fades, the unwelcome pulsing desire returns, and her screams turn, corrupted. She begs them.
Then Barney whispers something in her ear.
Lily's hand tightens around the object in her hand, the only thing within reach, the salt cellar from the kitchen. She pops the cap.
Barney whispers vile words in her ear. "I'm gonna kill your husband and make you watch," his forcing his penis deep inside her.
As she comes, hard, fast, in a rush, she slips her arm out of Barney's grip and around in an arc, a line of salt flying out and directly into those black eyes, dead and hungry as a shark.
Barney folds, clawing at his eyes, falling down on his knees and Lily twists with all her might, almost dislocating her shoulder as the salt swirls through the air, hitting her husband.
There's a shriek so loud that she has to cover her ears, an implosion of air, as Marshall ejaculates into thin air and opens his mouth wide, a column of thick, black smoke erupting from his throat, going on and on.
Behind her, she sees Barney's eyes widen, his mouth open, and the smoke explode from him too, like a grit filled belch from the exhaust of a yellow cab.
The air is thick with it, grey, choking, lightning filled smoke, until it dissipates through the ceiling with a crunching thud.
Marshall collapses bonelessly, but Barney remains upright. Barney, who had all the ideas, all the inventive ways to hurt her, to violate her.
Barney, who shoved his dick in her mouth then cold-cocked her for her troubles, while the other demon played along.
Lily tells herself that it wasn't Barney, that the demon possessing him was at the wheel, taunting her. But the fire still rages in her belly and the look in his eyes, embarrassed, yes, but unapologetic, that look makes the wet heat return.
She ignores him, and rushes to Marshall. But as she helps her husband (and it is her husband, finally) sit up, she can feel those blue eyes boring into her back and she wonders, how long has Barney been thinking about her, dreaming about her, fantasizing about her.
And she wonders if it's been as long as she's been fantasizing about him.
And she wonders how the events of tonight will change things between them.