Despite the years Jonathan spent alongside Sock, he'd never imagine this is where he'd end up. Caught between a realm of living and the dead, all he could do was caress Sock's head closer to his chest. Jonathan gazed up at the night sky, free of the storm clouds there just an hour ago. The stars glittered as bright as the moonlit dew on the tree leaves. Running his hands through Sock's hair, he felt nubs protruding from the demon's skull. He could barely be sure what he was holding. He was well aware that the thing he loved and held close for warmth was alive, but it wasn't something of this world.

"Jonathan?" A voice mewed for his attention. The young man looked at Sock and was met with his soft eyes. The same eyes that twinkled with childlike wonder at the sight of witnessing the first murder Jonathan had committed. The demon had eyes of a cherub that kept the human from refusing any request or yearning plea for love.

"You love me. Don't you? Really, really love me?"

Words repeated for a thousandth time stuck tight in Jonathan's ears. The phrase was spoken with the same sad tone each time and its familiarity brought back every event that occurred after hearing the phrase before.

Jonathan could remember the demon giving him the encouraging words of:

"Anything can be a weapon when you hold it right,"

Jonathan could remember the face of each person Sock gently nudged him to kill. It was better this way. He'd never let the demon know, but the fear of suicide grew in his conscious mind like a cancer. Eventually, it turned in to a fear of death at all. The prospect of leaving behind a world where he actually had a friend wasn't one he'd easily accept so soon.

He'd kill a thousand muggers to stay alive. The first murder was an incident, an act of survival.

"Anything can be a weapon if you hold it right."

Anything to survive. It was a run in with a mugger, it was in the middle of the night when the teen had no business wandering the streets. Jonathan's hands found themselves around a piece of scrap metal sticking out from a recycle bin. Jonathan couldn't remember everything that happened while he was bashing the brains out of the criminal threatening his life. The most Jonathan could feel was the fear pumping through his body and the blood that seeped out of his hands as they were cut by the rough edges of the metal. He didn't stop until he heard the demon practically screeching for him to stop.

"You love me. Don't you? Really, really love me?"

The demon spoke sweetly, comforting like the voice of a mother trying to soothe their anxious child.

"I've done this before. You trust me. Don't you?"

Jonathan followed every instruction the demon gave. Collect the bone shards, throw the brains and guts in a plastic bag. Hide anything and everything.

"Just listen to me. Everything will be okay."

Those words, like a record on an endless loop. A self-teaching CD set to auto play, a speech said like an actor memorizing their lines.

Jonathan was brought back into the moment of reality when he saw the demon take his hand. Sock tenderly kissed the back of it gradually moving up until reaching Jonathan's jawline. The young man was still getting used to the presence of jagged fangs that sprouted from Sock's mouth overtime, permanently protruding from his lips.

"Just listen to me-"Sock began, then spoke in unison with Jon's whisper.

"-Everything will be okay." Sock's lips curled into a wide grin.

"What now?" Jonathan stated. It wasn't a question anymore. It was more of a command for Sock to take over and guide him. Maybe with the usual line he'd hear after disposing of a body.

"I'm all you have left. Right?" Jonathan's breath caught in his throat. The act of breathing escaped him as he clamored to find reason as to why there was deviation in the words Sock spoke.

Jonathan tried to remember who was missing. He remembered scaring away his college friends, murdering his dorm mate in a fit of paranoia, distancing himself from family. Sock was the only thing that kept him company and understood why Jonathan continued with his acts of 'self-defense.'

"Your mom would want me to keep you safe. I want you to follow me."

The cold mud on Jonathan's back reminded him of where he really was. The two of them were curled together a top of the fresh grave where his mother now slept for eternity. Jonathan had memories of the fear in her eyes, screeches of betrayal rang in his ears. He couldn't even remember why he killed her in the first place.

"Please, Jonathan, I want you to come with me. I can keep you safe. I want you to stay with me."

Suicide.

"Please, please, please. Jonathan, I don't wanna burn in hell. I don't want to be alone anymore. Jonathan, stay with me please. You're all I have."

Jonathan still had a kitchen knife in his bag. It was there for emergencies.

"Jonathan, please, please, please. I'm so terrified. You don't want me to go alone do you?"

Jonathan gently moved the demon off of him and reached for his messenger bag.

"You love me? Really and truly?"

Jonathan quietly removed the knife from his bag and gripped the handle tight.

"I love you, Jonathan. You'll love me forever, right?"

Jonathan turned the knife on himself. The first stab not going all the way through, but each one afterwards going through deep. Blood splattered out of him in thick glops, soaking the ground with more liquids. Jonathan gagged and choked on the blood that found its way into his throat.

"We'll be together forever. I promise. I promise because I'm the only person who'll ever love you like this."

Jonathan dropped to the ground, the knife pierced through his stomach a final time.

"I'll love you, even when you look like a carved pumpkin."

Jonathan wheezed his last breath.

"I'll love you, even if you rot in hell."

Jonathan succumbed to the blackness that clutched close to his vision.

"It'll only be us. Just us."

"I love you, Sock."

"You better. We're together forever."