
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13149207.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      Other
  Fandom:
      Everyman_HYBRID
  Character:
      Vinny_(Everyman_HYBRID), HABIT, Reverend_Green, Jeff_(Everyman_HYBRID),
      Alex_(Everyman_HYBRID)
  Additional Tags:
      Child_Abuse, Sexual_Violence, Canon-Typical_Violence, Demonic_Possession,
      Torture, Psychological_Torture, Flashbacks
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-26 Updated: 2018-02-18 Chapters: 2/4 Words: 2758
****** How Many Lives? ******
by mechanicalreproductions
Summary
     HABIT helps the HYBRIDs with their quest to uncover the mysteries of
     past timelines.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** The Everyman *****
Chapter Notes
     I think it's alright to feel inhuman, now. I think that's a riot.
     (WARNING! This chapter contains mildly explicit child molestation.
     Proceed with caution.)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“Do you want to know?” the voice that wasn’t quite Evan’s growled. Its’ hands
were on Vinny’s shoulders, feeling uncomfortably familiar, “You can know, if
you want. I’ll show you.”
Vinny clutched the papers, but was careful not to wrinkle them. “I want to
know,” he said in spite of how nervous he was, and in spite of how HABIT was
breathing in his face like a hungry beast. HABIT’s nails dug into his
shoulders. Was it angry? Was that the wrong answer?
 
“You realize what happened to you, right?”  
 
“He,” he said, avoiding use of the word  I.  That wasn’t the same Vincent. He
was someone else. “He was raped. Right?”  
 
“And then?”  
 
“I- I-” he hesitated, “I don’t know. It says here, the priest was found dead,
with his-”
 
“Then, that’s what you want to find out? You won’t find any answers in those
useless fucking letters. Let me show you.”
 
Before Vinny could answer, his body went cold with the realization that
something wasn’t right. The atmosphere had shifted. The room he was now in
smelled musty, the toy boat in his hands was leaving splinters, and he felt a
heavy sense of unease. There was a man standing in front of him- no, leaning
over him- with his hands in the place of HABIT’s. He was dressed well, in a
dark button-down and slacks, but his breath smelled like stale whisky. He was
so close now, that Vinny felt like he could taste it.
 
“Vinny,” the man’s tone was off. He must have been drunk. Vinny didn’t like
being around grown-ups when they were drunk. They were unpredictable.
 
“We still have a few hours before your parents pick you up. Let’s play our
game.”
 
His face was even closer now- mere inches away from his own. No, it was closer
than that. He was kissing him. This wasn’t the first time- far, far from the
first time- but it felt different. The Reverend had a tight grip on his
shoulders, undoubtedly bruising his skin. He was never violent, before.
 
“You’re hurting me,” he said, so softly it nearly stayed under his breath.
 
Vinny didn’t get a reply, or a reaction. The hands on his shoulders only dug
in, and pulled the child closer. His heart swelled with panic.
 
“Son of a bitch!” the Reverend brought his hand to his lips. They were
bleeding. Vinny hadn’t even realized he’d bitten him, until he tasted the blood
in his mouth. He was disgusted, and not only by the sickening metallic flavor.
  
Before Vinny could take even a single step away, his head was crushed against
the corner of a coffee table. Now, he was bleeding- a lot. It was getting in
his eyes, and running together with his tears. He could barely see, but he felt
a strong hand on his waist- then, pushing the blood-stained hair out of his
face- then, running slowly over his trembling lips. Vinny couldn’t shake the
thought, He's going to do worse than rape me, now. He's going to seriously hurt
me. I’ve really fucked up.
 
He was holding Vinny’s head against the coffee table, and kneeling down next to
him, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Vinny,” he said, but his tone
carried chicanery. There was a sick, sadistic grin spread across his face. It
was inhuman.
 
Vinny found his voice, “No,” he choked pathetically, closing his eyes tight so
he didn’t have to see whatever was about to happen to him, “Stop, stop, stop,
please, please, please .  I’ll do anything you want. Please, don’t hurt me.
Please-”  
 
“- don’t hurt me!” Vinny’s voice was mature again- adult. The flashback was
over, but he could still feel everything. He couldn’t stop begging, “Please,
please, please,don’t hurt me!”  
 
When he opened his eyes, HABIT was on its’ knees, with its’ fingers tangled in
Vinny’s hair, in the Reverend’s place. Vinny felt hot tears searing his cheeks.
HABIT laughed sadistically.
 
“Anything I want? What a good boy.”
 
“Was that you?” Vinny sobbed, once he managed to calm down enough to speak. He
wasn’t sure whether he was asking if HABIT was the Reverend back then, or if it
had been the Reverend just now. HABIT’s hands felt red-hot, now. It was like
they were searing his scalp. He wanted it to stop touching him. He felt sick.
 
“Reverend Green? Is that who you’re talking about? Because, he wasn’t the only
one…”
 
Vinny wanted to protest- to say he changed his mind, he didn’t want to know any
more, he couldn’t take any more- but HABIT was already in his head again.
 
A child once again, Vinny felt the fingers in his hair tighten. They weren’t
HABIT’s any more (or were they?). He couldn’t bring himself to look ahead,
being eye level with the Reverend’s hips. He dreaded what was coming, but he
was too scared to try and resist again. His clothes were blood-stained and
hanging loosely off of his body. The memories of what had happened to put him
in that state were still fresh, both in his mind and in his flesh. The
Reverend’s hands might as well have left imprints on his skin.
 
“You know what to do,” Vinny was ordered. He just kneeled, silent and unmoving.
 
“Go on.”
 
“I can’t do it.”  
 
“Then I will,” the Reverend growled. Vinny flinched away from his touch, but it
didn’t do any good. He wouldn’t dare try and escape.
 
Vinny, closing his eyes and holding his breath, thought to himself:
 
Don’t you want to hurt him? Look at how much he’s hurt you.He deserves to feel
the same way you do, don’t you think? You should hurt him. Hell, you should
kill him.
No, no,  Vinny retaliated against the intrusive thoughts,  I couldn’t do that,
I’m not strong enough. Besides, I would never kill anyone.
 
That’s the only way to make this stop,the voice was getting audibly louder,If
you don’t kill him, Vinny, he’s going to rape you,It wasn’t his subconscious,
it was a consciousness of its’ own, Vinny, do you understand? He’s going to
fuck you. Do you want that? Maybe you do, you dirty faggot whore. Maybe, that’s
why you’re not fighting back. You really are going to Hell.
 
Vinny covered his ears, not that it quieted the voice, as it continued,  He
might even kill you . I guess you don’t have to worry about living with this,
because you’re going to be dead! Lucky you!
Stop, stop, stop!Vinny tried to plead with the disembodied taunting in his
head, I do want this to stop! I’ll do anything to make it stop! Anything,
anything, anything! I’ll kill him!
 
Whatever had taken control of his mind needed no further prompting. Vinny
subconsciously grabbed the Reverend’s hand, which was almost delicately
gripping his chin, and pulled it away from him. He heard a disgusting snapping
sound- the breaking of bones.
 
He was, now, strong enough to overpower him. He was strong enough to knock him
to the ground, and- despite the human fear in his eyes- feel no sense of
hesitation or remorse as he shattered he rest of his bones with only the heel
of his foot. His screams of pain horrified Vinny, but he didn’t stop. Only did
he stop, when the Reverend was stripped down, eviscerated, and barely, barely
hanging on to life as he mumbled incoherently. Vinny heard him repeat one word,
several times- ‘demon’. He was talking about Vinny. He was the demon.
 
The real demon, was, once again, visible in front of Vinny, instead of inside
of him. Vinny wanted to beg him not to induce another flashback. Not only were
there tears running down his cheeks, but he was sobbing hysterically,
practically screaming. He felt just as pitiful and hopeless as the child he had
been in another life. He felt, now, as if it was him who had been touched,
beaten, and humiliated all those years ago. It had been, but only now was he
realizing it.
 
“You,”Vinny spat between heavy cries of pain and fear, “You- You- You used me.
You used my body to- to- to-”
 
“Do you wish I hadn’t?” HABIT whispered. Its’ voice didn’t sound like Evan’s at
all, “Do you wish you’d been raped and left for dead, instead of finding the
strength to fight back? You can be preyed on, if that’s what you really want. I
won’t stop you.”
 
Vinny stayed silent, because he didn’t like his answer. No, of course, he
wouldn’t prefer that. The idea of HABIT having control of him was repulsive,
but it wasn’t nearly as repulsive as the alternative- was it?
 
“Yes, Vinny, I used you- but you let me in. Don’t you ever forget that.”


 
Chapter End Notes
     (LYRIC: For Reverend Green - Animal Collective)
***** The Guardian *****
Chapter Notes
     We're not so starry-eyed, anymore.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Even as the room was filled with gentle music- the kind he always used to
distract himself from unpleasant things- Jeff couldn’t shake his anxiety to
sleep. Every shadowed corner of his bedroom, seemed to be threaten him. He lay
in bed, picking at his hangnails, and fearing what hid in the darkness, as a
child might.
 
“HABIT was inside of me,” Vinny had told him earlier. Jeff had never before
heard him refer to that child as himself, “In the seventies, he took control of
my body to murder the priest who molested me- but he didn’t just murder him. I
remember, he was propped up on the sofa- disemboweled- with his intestines
spilling down the edge of the seat.”
 
Jeff, thoroughly disgusted, said, “It was HABIT, though. It wasn’t you.”  
 
“I let him in,” Vinny said. His tone was carried some sadness, but it was dull.
He looked like he might cry if he could, but his eyes were already red and
swollen.
 
Jeff whispered, “I would have,” laying a hand on Vinny’s shoulder. Vinny
recoiled, and Jeff wondered if the imprints of hands on his body were still
fresh, “I would have, too. Vin, you were just a kid. You were scared. You
thought you might die.”
 
“I wasn’t the only one HABIT was piloting,” Vinny continued, his tone shifting
from melancholy to angry in a mere moment, “He was Reverend Green, too. He
showed me exactly what he fucking did to that kid- to me. He was so fucking
proud of himself. He fucking bragged about raping me. Then, he- he did it
again. It wasn’t just a flashback. I felt his hands on me. I felt his-”
 
Vinny shook his head, and didn’t say any more. In his eyes, shone a look of
intense pain like Jeff had never seen before. Upon second glance, he wasn’t
completely numbed from the experience- he was unfathomably miserable. Jeff
didn’t try to touch him again.
 
Now, Jeff was on his own. He wanted to sleep, but he was afraid. He didn’t know
what he was afraid of, in particular, but he knew that he could never stop
being afraid anymore. There were so many possibilities- so many scenarios in
which one of the many plagues on his life could start eating at his flesh
without any warning signs. He found himself thinking,  What happens if we do
beat this? Jessa is dead. Alex is dead. We’ve spent years, now, being toyed
with and tormented. This is always going to haunt us, even if the dog, the man
in the suit, and HABIT go away. Things are never going to go back to normal.
What’s the point in trying?
 
Then, he thought of the children from Fairmount. Those children were them, in a
past life,  If we all die, could we start over? Could we do things differently
this time, so we don’t end up in the same place we’re in, now? Could I even see
Jessa, again? Alex?
 
Not likely , Jeff’s subconscious answered itself,  Remember- that Jeff had a
sister, not a brother. Alex wasn’t around in the seventies. He won’t reiterate,
with the rest of you. The same goes for Jessalyn. You’ll never see them again.
 
Jeff felt his heart weigh down with this realization. That voice echoing
through his head seemed to taunt him- dangling the promise of being reunited
with his loved ones in front of his eyes and then pulling it away with some
sort of sick pleasure. It was as if the voice was something separate from his
own thoughts- something with malicious intentions
 
He realized, he had fallen asleep, after all. In his state of dreaming, he was
sitting on the floor in a living room he barely recognized. The decór was ugly
and vintage, and there was a slightly browning tree in the corner of the room.
It was Christmas. Jeff was a child.
 
“Where’s Dad?” he found himself saying, to a girl only a few years older than
him-  Ellie,  he thought. He spoke with a youthful energy he’d long since
forgotten, “I can’t wait to open my presents! When is he coming back?”  
 
As if an actor on cue, his father entered through the doorway to the kitchen-
where their mother had been watching out the window for him. He was splattered
in blood, and the smell was so strong and vile, that it reached Jeff from
across the room. He carried a shotgun over his shoulder.  He was out hunting ,
he thought, despite the unease growing inside of him,  He decided to hunt
rabbits for our Christmas dinner, this year. That makes sense.
 
Before Jeff could ask him to confirm this hypothesis, he wordlessly approached
his children and put the barrel of his gun to Ellie’s head. She opened her
mouth to scream, but the bullet had pierced her brain before the sound could
escape her mouth. Her curls, not unlike his own, seemed to fly out in front of
her as the blast sprinted straight through her skull and out the other end.
Jeff searched his father’s eyes for an explanation. They were cold, and dead,
and completely unlike him. They looked like doll eyes, as if he were a
marionette.
 
Jeff thought he was completely speechless, and surprised himself by choking out
in barely a whisper, “Daddy, why? Why did you do that to Ellie?”
 
His father knelt down, and cupped Jeff’s face in his blood-stained hands. The
longer he was silent, the harder Jeff began to cry. He only stopped when his
father handed him a small toy soldier.
 
“Jeff, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, and he sounded genuine. His eyes were no
longer lifeless. They were brimming with tears and remorse, “I love you.”  
 
Without another word, he stood, and stuck the barrel in his own mouth. Jeff
wanted to ask more questions, but the horrible  BANG  of the shotgun drowned
out his thoughts. He sat in silence, except for his own trembling sobs, as he
clutched the toy soldier tightly in his small hands.
 
You know Jeff,  the disembodied voice interrupted his flashback,  Even back
then, you were thinking the same thing. You used to wonder, if you would ever
get to see Ellie again- in another life, maybe. She was your sister, after all.
Doesn’t she look like you?  
 
Cautiously, Jeff turned to look at Ellie’s corpse, pooling blood into the
carpet. As he crawled closer, he noticed in horror that the body belonged to
Alex. He stared into his dead, baby blue eyes, and cried out.
 
“No, no, no, no,” he sobbed, though tearlessly. He held Alex’s body, and
stroked his cheek. He was cold, but the blood pouring over his hands and onto
his lap felt red-hot, “no, no, no, no…”
 
He was still repeating himself, when he woke up in his own bed. He sat up,
heaving shaky breaths, as he looked around and tried to confirm he was back
where he was supposed to be. He almost felt relief, until he realized he still
felt wetness on the palms of his hands. He ripped his sheets off, and screamed
at the sight of his little brother’s blood. He wiped at his comforter, but it
wouldn’t come off no matter how he tried. It was eating into his flesh.
 
“Get out of my head!” he shrieked, hysterically, tugging at his own hair. He
felt pain, indicating he was awake this time, “Get the fuck out of my head!”
 
“Jeff!” the voice belonged to Vinny. The hallway light flooded his bedroom,
“What the fuck is going on? Are you okay?”
 
Jeff didn’t answer. He only looked, again, at his hands. There was no blood.
There was never any blood. Yet, it was still coating his hands.




Chapter End Notes
     (LYRIC: Make You Better - The Decemberists)
End Notes
     (LYRIC: For Reverend Green - Animal Collective)
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