This wasn't his plan. Well, to be fair, the moment Tomas reached out there was no plan at all, maybe just pull attention away from Marcus. His mind was screaming to do something, to stop the torture and so he forced his arm out of the ropes and clutched at 'Russell'. In that instant the room they were in vanished. Tomas saw a fleeting and rather foggy image of a young man hiding in the closet while there was screaming and sound of gunshots coming from the outside. Tomas knew if he really wanted to, if he had the time, he could maybe coax that young man out, maybe convince him to stop doing what he did, to repent for all the bad he allowed to happen when the demon entered his body. But Tomas didn't have the time, the patience or will. All he could see was the blood dripping from Marcus's arms, all he could feel was darkness all around. It wasn't a conscious thought, it was pure instinct fuelled by fear and rage.
"Stop! Get out! Get OUT!" he screamed inside his mind and it was as if someone waved a magic wand. The pictures in his head vanished in a white fog. There was pressure behind his eyes, his ears felt stuffed, as if he was deep under water, but when he opened his eyes he was back in the room with father Simon, one of the henchman and Marcus. Russell... well, Russell was laying on the ground, unseeing eyes open wide, a trickle of saliva running down the side of his face. His legs and arms moved jerkily and he was breathing, but Tomas could tell that was about all the man was good for anymore.
"How..." father Simon stuttered and it was the first time Tomas saw true apprehension on his face. It gave him hope, even if it was only momentary.
"You alright? Tomas?" Marcus asked looking at him dazedly and with something Tomas hoped was just surprise and not disgust.
"Y-yeah," he mouthed, his eyes moving towards the still twitching man on the floor. Tomas swallowed, trying not to think that maybe he just killed someone. He looked back at Marcus, at the blood on his arms... Tomas's eyes followed the drops and saw the small puddle by the chair's leg, just as his eyes landed on the discarded knife.
The knife was easily within his reach and his left arm was free. All he needed was to lean over quickly and grab it. If he could take it and cover Marcus, maybe the two demons would be too scared to approach him after what happened to Russell. Maybe it could give them a chance to escape...
Tomas was right in one thing. The other two men in the room weren't willing to get within reaching distance of him, but really, that meant nothing. Father Simon could see the knife just as well as Tomas and put together what was his plan even before Tomas started to move.
"If he moves, shoot him!" Simon barked at the same time as Marcus shouted "No!" at Tomas, knowing how foolish an attempt that would be.
Tomas froze. He might've risked a scuffle with a knife, counting on the fact neither man wanted to touch him. But a bullet was something else. Tomas swallowed, his eyes burning with tears of anger over the whole situation, the fact Marcus was slowly bleeding out and there was a man he might've just killed.
"What the hell did you just do?" Father Simon asked, his voice losing all the teasing quality. It was obvious the demon was done playing games. There was only seething fury and a darkness that was almost sparking from pent up energy. Tomas knew Simon wanted to come closer, his darkness reaching out towards Tomas fervently, but every time he got too close it jerked back as if burned. Tomas didn't know if it was Marcus's presence or his own aura... to be fair, Tomas never saw his own colors, however hard he looked. There was nothing for him to see and he supposed even the demon was somehow scared by that.
"Answer me!" Father Simon bellowed, jerking Tomas from his swirling thoughts.
"I sent him back where he belongs," Tomas said with more courage than he really felt.
"That's not possible. You're just a scummy little bastard, a freak, nothing else." Father Simon said, trying to appear unaffected, but the spit flying from his mouth was proof to the contrary. Tomas would have smirked if their situation wasn't so dreadful. He gave a short look at Marcus, feeling both relief at catching him still conscious with eyes spitting fire, as well as deep regret upon the pain that was clear in the heavy breathing and the bulging veins on the man's neck. Tomas couldn't help but feel responsible and helpless.
"If I'm such a freak, why don't you just let us go?" Tomas turned back to Simon, ignoring Marcus's muttered curse and his pleas to just shut the hell up.
"Because you're a pain in the ass. All you God touched people... you're good only for one thing. To show Him how badly He chose!" Father Simon spat and a dangerous smirk appeared on his face. "Oh, how I love to show Him the middle finger. And there's no better way to do it than give up your precious soul."
With a jerk of his head, Simon nodded towards Marcus, a resolution clear on his face. He stepped towards the urn, taking off the cover. He reached in almost reverently; grabbing a handful of ash, then threw it up in the air, muttering 'Vocare Pulvere'.
"Enough of this game. You have 15 seconds to decide, Tomas. Give up and say yes, or Marcus Keane will get a bullet straight between eyes. Time is ticking." As if to drive his point home, father Simon made a ticking sound and laughed.
Tomas didn't hear him. His eyes followed the ash that formed a cloud above them, moving fluidly yet unsure. Tomas's eyes were wide as he saw the colors glinting through the blackness... deep red and orange, shades of violet he has never seen. All angry and dangerous and promising pain, so much pain. He followed the trajectory of the cloud - of the entity that was hiding inside it, hungry and ready to devour a soul... his soul.
Somewhere in the distance he could hear Marcus screaming, calling his name, begging him not to do it. As if in slow motion Tomas saw the henchman point his gun at Marcus, a vile grin on his face, but the finger wasn't pressing the trigger, not yet. Father Simon was laughing, the sound sending shivers of sickness down Tomas's spine as distorted as it sounded.
He finally looked at Marcus, at the fear in his eyes, the despair. It was the same look he had when Gabriel's neck snapped and Tomas hated himself for being the cause of it now. But he also saw the entity moving towards Marcus, the darkness licking at the gold light that was slowly fading as the blood was dripping from his wounds. Time stopped to have meaning; the 15 seconds could've just as well been 15 hours. Tomas blinked and Marcus's mouth barely moved. He couldn't let it happen. Not the bullet, not the demon getting hold of something so pure as Marcus. Tomas couldn't have lived with himself, not when he knew there was a way to stop it. After all, what did he have to lose? Olivia would be devastated but at the same time it would give her back her freedom. She could take care of herself easily without the burden of Tomas. It wasn't like there was a bright future in front of him, not one he could envision this moment. And Marcus... he knew so much. He could do so much good still and he would be missed. If Marcus succumbed, Peter would be devastated as well. No, there was really not much of a choice, not for Tomas. His path was clear and for the first time in his life Tomas was okay with it. Not happy, maybe resigned, but the weight was off his shoulder. Maybe all this would finally end.
Marcus must've seen the decision on his face, because he strengthened his struggle, making his chair almost topple over in his haste to reach the knife on the floor. He obviously didn't care for the gun pointed at his head.
Tomas reached out with his free hand and touched the struggling man, who froze, eyes wide and desperate.
"Tomas, don't please-" Marcus choked out. Tomas gave him a sad smile, sort of a 'what can you do'?
"Tell Liv I'm sorry," he said, squeezing Marcus's arm.
"You can't, Tomas! Don't do this!"
Tomas swallowed.
"I don't want to. But there's no choice. Maybe... bring me back?" he added, just the smallest of hope in his voice as he thought about all the cases Marcus helped, all the people he saved from possession. Maybe if they won't both get killed today, maybe he could save him too.
Marcus's eyes widened and he shook his head in terror.
"No, this is different, Tomas! Please, listen to me!"
But Tomas had already decided. He could see the demon was getting hungry and when Marcus looked up at it and said: "Take me!" he knew there was no choice at all.
"No!" Tomas roared even as he saw the demon heading towards Marcus, the cloud shuddering in anticipation. "You want me, so come get me! Come on, you bastard! I can hear you whispering, I can feel your hunger. Take me!"
There must've been something appealing about Tomas. Maybe it was the fact that Marcus was weak from blood loss, maybe the fact he was touched by God and the demon still didn't like that. Or maybe it was just Tomas's own soul calling out for the darkness, burning hot like a flame luring in the moth.
Whatever the reason, the entity changed its track and without a pause plunged itself towards Tomas. The last thing he heard was Marcus's cry and the cackling laughter of father Simon. For a second there was a roar in his ears as if he was plunged under water with his heart beating a marathon. Something black and vile covered his mouth and nose and rushed inside, forcing all the air out of his lungs, out of his body. Tomas's eyes rolled back in his head and the outside world stopped existing. The only thing he was aware of was pain and terror, a millisecond of realization that he made a mistake, that this was much worse than anything he could imagine and then he was thrown into his own personal hell. For that moment, Tomas Ortega stopped existing. There was nothing. Not a name, not a memory, just pain.
