The depictions of demons in the ancient texts, particularly in those associated with the Etruscan civilization, had always fascinated Rupert. He should have been hanging onto the professor's every word. Instead he could barely hear the lecture over the screaming. He knew the other students were focused on the lecture but Eyghon was showing Rupert something different: maggots eating through rotting flesh, bones piercing through human skin, eyeballs melting down faces, and more. He'd sat through the same hell in over a dozen lectures but finally it became to much. Rupert bolted to his feet, shoved his way through the narrow passage of writing desks and knees, and sprinted out the door as if the hordes of hell were chasing after.

He never did recall how he made it back to his own rooms. Sprawled on the floor as if he'd tripped or been shoved, Rupert's pounding fist sounded hollow and weak against the aged wood. "Please, please stop."

Release me. A face flashed through Rupert's mind, that of a very bad man, one the world could well do without.

"No, I won't hurt anyone, not even him."

Suddenly, unexpectedly, Rupert saw Ethan. His skull had been smashed in. The brains had spattered across the carpet. Ethan's lips moved. Release me.

"I won't. You can't touch him, not while you're only in my head."

"Ripper, please, help me." It was Ethan's voice, but he knew it wasn't Ethan. "Please."

Rupert's eyes dragged behind, glancing backward out of his periphery, as he head swung around to face Ethan. He snapped his eyes forward. Maggots were weaving through a hole in Ethan's cheek. It didn't matter that it wasn't Ethan. Rupert couldn't stand it, not any longer. "Alright, but lose the visions," he told Eyghon. "I can't think and I can't plan, not like this."