Faith: Edited

For without cause they have hidden their net for me unto destruction: without cause they have upbraided my soul. Let the snare which he knoweth not, come upon him: and let the net which he hath hidden, catch him: and into that very snare let him fall…

~Ps 34:1, 4-9~

The whispers were a quiet hum in the back of his mind. Fear still gripped his heart in a vise-like hold. His tormentors were gone, but now he was alone in an unfamiliar world.

The room was cold, stank of metal and despair. The air was stale and tasted of rust one found in really old places.

Freak sat upon a fold-out steel chair nibbling on one of the apple slices he'd been given. A tall glass of a white substance was in front of him on a steel table.

Water droplets fogged the glass dripping down its sides forming a puddle around it. A plastic plate rested to its right with fruit.

A couple of slices of apples and a bunch of grapes.

Freak's eyes trailed the droplets of water in interest.

The whispers murmuring in amusement. Freak chewed, savoring the taste of the apple. Its sweet and sour flavor bursting on his tongue. Trying to ignore the intense stare of the man across from him.

When the water bored him he darted his eyes to the wide mirror to his right. It ran the expanse of the brick wall. His wide-eyed reflection stared back at him as well as the intense stare of the man.

He ducked his head and then looked up at the vent that was blowing gently the cold air. Rust glimmered in the fluorescent light. He darted his eyes to the wooden door, its bronze knob gleaming in the light.

He shivered and pulled the white fluffy cloth around him to keep warm. Curling his legs up under his chin. His toes scrunching up to tuck under the material.

The long sleeves stretch out over his hands until only the very tips of his fingers were showing. He clutched his treasure in his left hand.

He finished his apple piece then slowly reached his right hand toward the plate. His eyes darting to the man again. Quickly snatching the bunch of grapes. Then ducking his head as he waited for a blow.

When none was forthcoming he darted his eyes to the man again in curiosity. Then blatantly ate a grape. Crunching loudly. Then squeezing his eyes shut, burying his head in his knees. Ears straining for a sign of movement.

There were none.

He cracked open an eye to see the man had quirked an eyebrow at him but did nothing else. Thus Freak determined it was safe to eat the grapes. Swallowing he stuffed another grape in his mouth.

Chewing slowly, he studied the man. He was middle-aged with greying hair and goatee. He wore a black shirt and slacks with a clerical collar. He had introduced himself earlier but the whispers had been so loud he hadn't heard.

Freak didn't know what to think.

He had never been shown kindness like his tormentors were. He didn't trust it so Freak's fear didn't lessen. However, his trembling had finally subsided when he realized his captors weren't going to hit him.

They took him to this place that had smelled of sickness and death. Cleaned him, made a lot of loud noises and flashes of light that stung Freak's eyes.

Then they gave him the fluffy material he was wearing. He didn't know what to make of it. Normally the whispers would help him understand what the big people were saying.

At least they did with his tormentors. But they had been so loud since he had been taken by that man from his cupboard.

The man smiled at the small boy in front of him. The child's eyes widened at the action and his emerald eyes darted away again as he stuffed another grape into his mouth.

The man was from the states and an old colleague of his had invited him on a retreat to London, all expenses paid. Who was he to say no to that?

However, shortly after arriving, the London police showed up asking for assistance to calm a victim of quite the mysterious case.

One might call it supernatural. Though the man had no idea what could have done this. He called his contacts in the states to see what they made of it.

Both of them said they were already in London following a hunt that decided it wanted to cross the pond to escape.

The man's two friends were too stubborn to let it. The man was just happy they could help. Though the man was having trouble calming the child. The child hadn't spoken since he had arrived.

Only clutching that cross like a lifeline. He wondered if the child even knew what it stood for. All signs indicated the child had never left the vicinity of the house.

There had been no other religious articles at the site. So the man wondered where the child got it. The man sighed, the child's eyes darted to him, head tilted in question.

"Do you know what that is in your hand?"

The man sighed again when only confusion registered in the child's eyes

Freak pursed his lips when the man spoke. The words sounding garbled and strange.

The whispers drown out the man's voice. Not interpreting the man at all. Freak furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance.

He didn't understand. Normally they aided him when others spoke, but they weren't now. It was as if they were focused on something else. Freak tilted his head to the left as he tried to make out what the whispers were saying.

The man was speaking again, this time Freak heard no sound at all. The whispers sounded angry.

Rage colored the words. Until Freak could make out two words that were being repeated over and over again.

Run! Danger! Run! Danger! Run! Danger! Run! Danger! Run!

Sweat gathered at the base of Freak's neck as he paled. His hands started to tremble as the feeling of wrongness pervaded his senses. His eyes darted around the room looking for an escape. Something was coming! He had to get out! He had to leave!

Run! Danger! Run! Danger! Run! Danger! Run! Danger! Run!

The door opened and the whispers went silent. The urgency of the message still buzzed beneath his skin. Freak choked, the grapes fell out of his hand to scatter on the floor.

A miasma of decay and the stench of death coated the back of his throat as the feeling of wrongness suffocated him. He fell to the floor. The big man made an alarmed sound at the back of his throat.

Freak scrambled to the other side of the room. His eyes darting to the man that just walked in. Terror gripped him.

A feeling of heaviness pressed down upon him, it turned his very limbs to lead.

The man in the clerical collar was next to him shaking his shoulder trying to get him to calm down. But Freak's eyes were riveted to the one who just walked in the door.

What had once been a handsome face was shadowed in a grotesque parody of one. Black hair hung lank around his face, blue eyes shadowed in darkness. This was one of the men who had rescued him.

Freak didn't understand what happened. But as the dark one walked closer, Freak could hear it.

The screaming voice of the man tortured in the shadow. The closer he walked the louder the screams became. Until his ears started ringing.

"Hello, Child, and Pastor. I am Officer Ray Strider."

The Officer said wearing a smug smirk.

"Officer? I think you should leave. You are frightening the boy."

Said the Pastor that sat on his haunches next to the child. An ugly smile stretched across the Officer's grotesque face. Freak started to hyperventilate. The man laughed.

"Oh, I don't think I will flesh bag."

The Pastor paled at that and rasped out, "Christo!"

The dark one's eyes turned black and he laughed. The holy man made to grab Freak but with a swipe of the evil's hand, the man went flying back against the wall.

He hung there suspended by an invisible force. Arms outstretched on either side of him. Freak screamed and ran toward him. But that same force flung him to the opposite wall suspending him there.

He could feel the rough brick digging into his back through the soft material he wore. Freak hung onto his cross for dear life.

Shivers wracked his form as he struggled to breathe under the weight of evil. Tears ran down his face. Running footsteps could be heard.

"Why don't you meat suits hang around we are about to have company."

The monster laughed.

Captain Bandello ran into the room, followed by Agents Studdard, Castle, and McLeod. Upon entry, Studdard and Castle grabbed the flasks in their jackets. Before they could use them, however, they too were flung upon the walls.

The door slammed shut. Other officers banging on the door to get inside. There shouts muffled. All the while, the monster laughed and laughed. Freak shivered.

The laughter overlaid the screams of the once man.

"Bullocks," McLeod mumbled from his place on the wall. His eyebrow twitching in annoyance. He attempted to gather power to break the hold but, the black eyes was stronger.

"Ah, Captain. How nice of you to join us! And you brought some wonderful flesh bag friends. Choices. Choices. However, shall I decide?"

The monster questioned.

"Strider! What is the meaning of this?! Let us go!" The Captain yelled.

The dark one cackled, his mouth stretching into an insane grin.

"Oh, you poor fool. Strider isn't here right now. He will never be here again."

The black eyes smirked, tapping a finger on his chin.

"Let the man go demon! When I get down from here I am so exorcising your ass!"

Castle yelled.

"Ha! You, exorcise me? Don't make me laugh, meat suit. If you were capable of such a thing it would have happened already."

Declared the demon as he sauntered over to the man that was at his mercy.

"Now how shall I kill you? Choices. Choices." Hummed the demon. McLeod rolled his eyes at the dramatics, busy building his power. He'd be damned if he let this bitch best him.

"Exorcizamuste, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…." Started Studdard and the Pastor. The demon jumped back and screamed. McLeod squeezed his red eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he fought against the chant.

Damn hunters.

"No! You bastard! I won't be exorcised by the likes of you!" The demon flung his hand and slashed the two men across the chest. Blood gushed out of the fresh wound and dripped upon the floor.

The men gurgled, as blood spilled out their mouths.

"Ah, the sweet sound of dying gurgles." The dark one sighed.

"Rufus! Jim! NO!" Yelled Castle.

McLeod sighed in relief. Freak screamed at the sight of blood running down the floor. His frightened eyes glued to the monster. His scream gaining its attention. The monster once again walked leisurely toward him.

"No! Leave the child alone!" Screamed Castle.

The demon smirked as he came up to Freak. His hand striking out to grip Freak's neck, choking. Freak struggled to breathe. The touch burned and he shrieked in agony. The demon laughed.

"Now you small fry. You and I are going to have a nice long chat about that power of yours." The demon inhaled a long gust.

"Yes, I smell it on you. That power. It tastes pure, with a little bit of darkness, I will take it and make it mine."

Freak struggled as he tried and failed to get a breath. The howls of the once man being drowned out by the whispers once again. Until finally Freak stilled.

The monster released the invisible force until only his hand was holding the child's body up.

"No!" Choked out the Pastor. The Captain had gone pale in disbelief.

Freaks hands fell limply to his sides, his head lolling forward, the demon smiled then frowned as he felt a buildup power.

McLeod smiled in anticipation. The whispers were shouting now as Freak felt his consciousness start to slip. The cross pulsed, warmth enveloped him, his hand closing around his treasure with his remaining strength.

The warmth told him to relax, that it would be alright.

The whispers strengthened, consuming until they filled his very being. Warming every limb with strength and heat.

Then they took control slamming reaks hand that held the cross onto the demon's that choked him. The demon screamed in pain. Power coursed through Freak, this time he felt it.

It filled his mind as the demon struggled to release him, to getaway. But Freak held fast.

The men suspended on the walls sucked in a breath of incredulity as Freak looked up. His eyes were ablaze in pure light.

..The whispers shouted in urgency, the power and voices filling his mind until thousands upon thousands spilled from his mouth.

"In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen!"

The glass upon the table and the wall-length mirror shattered. Glass falling upon the floor. The men that had been suspended on the walls and the other side of the mirror fell to the ground. Grasping their heads.

Everyone screamed as the voices roared.

"Let GOD arise and let His enemies be scattered: and let them that hate Him flee from before His Face! As smoke vanisheth, so let them vanish away: as wax melteth before the fire, so let the wicked perish at the Presence of GOD!"

(Ps 67:1-2).

The Captain struggled to crawl toward the child and his screaming possessed officer. Leaving a trail of blood that spilled down his ears.

"Judge Thou, O' Lord, them that wrong me: overthrow them that fight against me. Let them be confounded and ashamed that seek after my soul. Let them be turned back and be confounded that devise evil against me. Let them become as dust before the wind!"

(Ps 34:1, 4-9).

The demon released an inhuman scream as light erupted from his eyes. His body dropped releasing the child that floated gently to the ground. Eyes still ablaze in light.

The man landed on his hands and knees before the child, hacking coughs raking through his body. Black ash falling from his mouth. Sweat coated his brow as blue tear-filled eyes glanced up at the child.

The whispers were triumphant.

Freak turned their gaze to the men upon the floor. Blood poured from the men's ears, two with slashes upon their chests, creating a puddle around them.

A chill went down McLeod's spine as he frantically tried to come up with a plan to avoid the same fate.

Freak tilted his head as the whispers guided him, he walked to the men, his treasure clenched tightly in his fist. The whispers fell to a quiet hum, encouraging, Freak touched the one closest.

A familiar amber-eyed man who gazed upon him in awe. The blood and pain disappeared from the man's face.

Wonder clouded his expression. Immediately the Captain pressed his face to the floor and started whispering franticly.

"Oh my God! Source of all mercy! I acknowledge Thy sovereign power…" (Prayer to Redeem lost time)

One by one Freak walked to and gently touched the forehead of each man. Taking the pain and wounds from each one. Studdard and the Pastor releasing a sigh of relief as the pain left them.

The pastor crossing himself again and again as he whispered the Prayer of the Our Father, his gaze riveted to the miracle in front of him. Castle's eyes darted between the child and the formally possessed man.

Ash spilled in front of him, followed by black bile. Until there was nothing left to come up. The man scrambled away from the pile, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Tears falling down his cheeks.

Castle's eyes flew back to the child as he felt small fingers touch his cheek.

He stiffened as warmth and peace-filled him until every ounce of him was consumed. For a moment it felt as if nothing else mattered. The room and the others fell away until he was in a garden so vast his eyes couldn't see the end of it.

The sun blazed golden in the sapphire sky. His wife beckoned him, laughing running to him putting a wreath of flowers that smelled of honeysuckle upon his head.

Joy bloomed in his heart as he felt soft lips brush his cheek, a whispered phrase on the wind.

I Love You….

Then he was back in the police station in London, tears falling down his cheeks, the absence of pain barely registering as his brain failed to compute what just happened.

Warmth settling beneath his skin as if he would never be cold again. Freak moved to the last man and stopped.

The feeling of wrongness returned, the whispers rising, as the man picked himself up to tower over him. The cross pulsed in a soothing rhythm.

"Well you sure have a flair for the dramatic don't you, half-pint?"

McLeod exclaimed. His eyes flashing red. The other men in the room rose to their feet in alarm.

The demon scoffed and flung out his hand slamming their heads into the walls knocking them all out at once.

"Now that they're out of the way you and I can talk."

Freak took a step back, he didn't understand, but the feeling of wrongness saturated the air.

The whispers too loud to aid him in understanding, confusion clouded his face as his eyes dimmed to emerald once again.

McLeod made a sound of annoyance in the back of his throat.

"Don't tell me you can't understand a word I am saying, can you?" The confusion in the child's eyes answered that question.

"Bullocks. Well….Can you understand me now?" Questioned the demon.

"You speak?" The child asked, glass shattered in the distance as the demon screamed, grabbing his ears. Never has he heard another speak words he could understand without the aid of the whispers.

"Tone it down on the power, kid. You're killing me here!" Shouted the demon.

"Darkness. Red stain. Wrongness. Why have the screams been silenced in the body you have taken?" Freak questioned. The demon shouted at the child, squeezing his eyes shut in pain.

"Your power! Tone it down! If not for me, then for the humans! You'll kill them!"

The whispers silenced. "Tell me!"

The demon huffed in relief as only an uncomfortable ringing went through his ears. He stared at the piercing glare the child was giving him. Sweat trailing down the back of his neck.

The thought that he may have bitten off more than he can chew in the back of his mind.

"This meat suit had just died when I possessed it. The soul has already left. Been dead for centuries." The demon explained as he stood up. Walking over to the body of the Pastor and toeing it with his shoe. Freak hissed.

"Why are you here, dark one?" Freak asked. The cross warm against his hand.

"Why to make a deal of course!" Exclaimed the demon. Freak tilted his head as the whispers heightened, images and their meanings filling his head of what a deal entails in seconds.

"I am not giving you my soul, red stain!" The ground shook with the force of his yell. The whispers roaring in rage. McLeod raised his hands in a calming gesture. Thunder crashed in the distance.

"Relax, it is not your soul I am after." Crooned the demon.

"Then speak." Freak intoned. The red-eyed demon hummed as he stepped closer to Freak.

"I propose a trade of sorts." The whispers heightened.

"Trade?" Freak questioned.

"Yes, trade. I am curious how you made it this far because it is obvious you don't know English, nor do you know how to control that delicious power very well. So my proposition is this. I teach you English, how to control your power, and about the world. In exchange, you use that nifty little power of yours to get rid of the 'wrongness' in my enemies, and you let me have that parasite inside your scar and help me find the rest." Droned the demon.

"Parasite?" Freak paled a bit at that. Ignoring the obvious hint at telling the demon about the whispers.

"Horcrux. A soul piece, created when one murders someone, the soul is then torn and a piece is placed in an object. Somehow a piece has clung to you."

Freak looked down at the cross in his hand in thought. The whispers silent once more. The cold of the room drifting across his awareness.

"Is it a piece of my soul?" Freak probed.

"No, yours is pure, while that piece is black as night. So, do we have a deal?" McLeod queried baring his teeth in a parody of a smile. The whispers heightened then quieted. One word repeated across Freak's mind.

"Yes." The demon laughed as he strode over to the child. Reaching his hand out to tilt the child's face up. Emerald eyes looked questioningly into crimson.

The demon grinning all the while. Kneeling until he was level with the child he put his lips to the child's ear.

"Then we have an accord." McLeod tilted the child's face down and kissed the lightning bolt-shaped scar. Castle struggling awake. He opened his eyes blearily in time to see the sealing of the deal.

"No." He whispered, his heart aching at the loss of the child's soul. He blinked. Then both McLeod and the mysterious child were gone.