#baghuul

A/N: I will totally start working on my thesis right after writing this just like I said I would. And by 'start' I mean hit 'post now' and proceeded to do absolutely nothing. Anyway, enjoy this masterpiece of procrastination. Have a nice and productive week (Cuz one of us should)

Warnings: Murder, smut, MDNI

Bughuul x OC l Ishtar's POV

The next child to be adopted was Milo. He stuttered when he spoke and was a tad timid but he could also sometimes be a brat. A sweet woman named Claire took him in. I wept again. She lasted two weeks. The news called it “a freak accident.” The house exploded, they said it was a gas leak, but I saw the video; a grainy security cam footage the police released later. Just before the explosion, there was something in the hallway. Something tall. Watching.

The night it happened, the moon was thin as a blade, there were no stars, just the silence of children sleeping down the hall and the sound of my blood in my ears, thrumming like a ritual drum. I knew he would come, so I didn’t light candles, didn’t wear white, instead, I undressed slowly as though each layer of cotton and silk peeled away a part of me that had still clung to innocence. I stood by the window in nothing but my skin letting the house look at me. Letting him see me. And then he was there; not with footsteps. Bughuul did not arrive in ways that could be heard, he filled the room like breath filled lungs, like dread in prayer. My body prickled, nipples hardening from the chill, or perhaps from the heat that pulsed beneath my skin. I turned, and he was there, towering over me. Still, his head tilted slightly, as if wondering what part of me he should begin with. “Why do you keep coming back?” I asked. His hand moved, just a fraction, just enough. He touched my face without ever laying a finger on me, I arched and gasped, pleasure bloomed low in my belly, dark and needy. His fingers, spectral, traced down the line of my throat, then my collarbone, before tangenting the curve of my breast. He didn’t breathe, but I did. Every inhale scraped through me like a velvet-lined razor, my knees buckled, and I fell to them, kneeling before him, naked, trembling. “Take me,” I whispered. “Or leave me be. I can’t live in-between anymore.” And then, something shifted, the air folded in on itself, and then I felt him. He entered me, not with flesh, but with presence. My back bowed, my fingers dug into the floorboards and a cry tore from my lips that didn’t sound human. My vision blurred; I was being filled, ruined, remade. He fucked like an eternity. No rhythm. No mercy. Just overwhelming pulsing waves of darkness, light, hunger and love; yes, love, though it came as pain. The house moaned with us. A shudder ran through the walls, the windows dripped with black condensation, and when I came, my body twisted, writhing, lips raw from sobbing. I felt him mark my soul, he didn’t say my name. He carved it across dimensions. Isha. And when it was over, I was no longer just a woman. I was his beloved. His altar.

After that night, I changed, but not in ways the world could see. I still tied shoes, folded laundry and taught the little ones how to write their names. But my reflection flickered when I passed mirrors and my shadow lingered just a little too long behind me. Sometimes, I’d wake up with his mouth on my thighs, invisible lips between my legs, or a pressure inside me that left bruises which later bloomed in the shape of hands. The other staff left. One by one. They said the children whispered to things that weren’t there. That a strange figure appeared in photographs, that they heard my voice singing lullabies in rooms I’d never entered. And always, always the adoptions. Each new placement ended in blood, and the bodies piled up. The headlines screamed, but the orphanage stayed open; and I knew why. He wouldn’t let them shut it down, because he needed it to quench his thirst, and he needed me here.

I tried once, just once to end it. Before the attic mirror, where the first murder took place, I stood with a knife and drew it across my skin, shallow, hesitant. Not out of cowardice but out of hope. Hope that maybe just maybe death could free me, and most importantly them. He appeared behind me and didn’t speak like always. But his anger was louder than thunder. The knife rusted in my hand before crumbling to crust, my blood vanished and my wound closed. I collapsed to my knees and begged him. “Let me go. Let them go.” He knelt behind me and for the first time, I wept in his arms. There was no comfort, just the terrible gentleness of a demon who loved me too much to leave me human.

We began to meet in dreams, or maybe it was hell. I wasn't sure. The landscape was somehow always different. Sometimes a blood-soaked field, sometimes a child’s bedroom frozen in time, sometimes halls that bled into each other where doorways led nowhere where a child’s laughter echoed; distorted, distant and wrong. And in those dreams, I would run to him, fall into his arms, and he would kiss and a plague would spread across every inch of me until I forgot who I had been.

He took me nightly. In every way. Mouth, fingers, shadows. He took me soft, and he took me brutal. Sometimes I woke up crying, now and then, moaning and sometimes both. His mark never left my skin, black fingerprints on my hips and ribs. One time, a word carved into my stomach backwards. “Mine.” Was that my punishment for trying to leave him?

The last child was lilly. Seven years old. A man came to adopt her. A good man, so very kind. I could feel it in his handshake and in the way he knelt to speak to Lilly instead of towering over her. And so, for a moment I thought. Please. Let this one live.

I begged Bughuul that night. On my knees, naked, praying with my whole body, offering myself again, wholly, deeper. “I’ll do anything,” I gasped, while he ravaged me across my bed. “Just let lilly live.” His response was, as per usual, not in words, but in a vision, a wedding; our wedding. The guests, children of the orphanage were all dead, the altar was a pyre. And lilly stood beside me, eyes empty, face slack. She was already gone.

I screamed when I awoke and I found the sheets soaking through. Not with blood but with shadow. He said no.

So of course I went and saw The Black Phone when it came out, years later. It had the same folks involved. I liked it, but not quite as much. Good movie, just didn’t hit the same with me

This came at the perfect time, i swear! I just rewatched Sinister 1,2 again :D There's not enough love for Mr. Boogie, and i'm gonna make it right.

You moved to the house where the last murder happened. You bought it with knowing what kind of sick history the house has. But it didn't look bad, price was cheap and it was a good location.

The kids and Bughuul himself knew about you right away. Your destiny was immediately clear to him. At least he thought so. It was new for him though, you were alone. No family, no partner. Alone.

First few nights were full of odd dreams. Children, children everywhere. Their pale skin and visible marks that looked like veins on their face, always unsettled you when you thought about it next morning. It was driving you crazy. Then it was you with someone in a long black coat, not facing you. It took place in a foggy forest, near something that looked like stairs and a black, at first glance repulsive castle.

You had very similar dreams when you were younger, you remember that you had trouble sleeping because of them. But it had stopped a long time ago? The dreams weren't the only strange things happening. It didn't even seem like dreams anymore, more like visions.

You also noticed that things changed position without you touching them, your keys seemed to disappear and reappear at random. Your clothes would move and you didn’t understand. The temperature in the house was outrageously cold, and you weren't feeling warm even if you sat near the fireplace. You tried to not pay attention to it. Keyword, tried to. But when you constantly heard giggling behind you, saw movements and shadows in your presence, it wasn't so easy to ignore it anymore.

Everything started with one incident.

You explored your house, checked out the backyard, garden, and lastly.. the attic. It was a spacious, yet small room. There was old stuff around, some chairs and wooden boards, but the box in the middle caught your attention.

You opened it, not expecting what was inside. It was.. tapes? You took the box and went back, but when you stepped into your living room, the curtains were drawn and some tape player was ready, along with 5 kids who sat on the couch and waited for you. They turned around to face you, and they all made a "shh pose" You were frightened. It was them! The children you saw in your dreams! When you dropped the box down, and turned around to run the fuck away, that's when you saw him. Bughuul. Walking slowly to you, making you fall down on the ground. You saw him completely. His presence was cold, black long hair resting on his wide shoulders. You didn't know who he is, he had no eyes, no mouth, yet you felt like he's staring right through you. When he took another step forward, your attempt to stand up failed. Your head was now filled with pain, deep voice echoed inside of it.

"How brave of you to move into a place like this.. But I think you'll regret it in a moment, my dear" You grabbed the nearest object and threw it at him. He just chuckled at you quietly and vanished. Just like that. It was still ringing in your head, making you nauseous, you slowly stood up, and walked. You didn't want to stay in that house anymore, you would sleep somewhere outside, on the bench even. Anywhere just not in that house.

THE ATTIC! THE TAPES! THE TAPES! FINISH WHAT YOU STARTED! Laughing and hollering was coming from every side. The kids were running around. You wanted to run outside, but the second you entered the hallway, the small shoe rack placed next to the main door was thrown at you.

Your aching body laid on the ground, not knowing there was actually someone near, you turned around and saw him again. Not the one you hoped for.

He grabbed you by the neck and smashed you against the door.

"You won't leave!" His painful dark gaze bore into you. As you felt your breath leave you, he looked into your eyes, ready to take your soul away. But then his eyebrows furrowed, and his grip loosened.

You fell, but not on the ground, someone caught you and held you in their arms. That's the last thing you remember. You woke up on the couch the next day. What the hell was that? A dream? A hallucination?

You then checked your neck in the mirror, but not one mark on it.

But you weren't dreaming. It was fucking real. The tape projector still in place like before, you stood up and picked up the scattered tapes. With trembling hands you played the tape and then it all caught up with you. The house and the murders. The mysterious symbol and the 'thing' on photos named 'Bughuul' The legend it's real! He made the kids do it!

"Well yes, and no" You heard a voice behind you, a very familiar voice..

You reflexively touched your neck but didn't turn around.

"I apologize for that, sincerely" He said, and and walked over to you.

"I didn't want to.." "I didn't know that.." He stopped talking and gently touched your shoulder. His cold touch sent shivers down your spine.

Who the fuck is he and why is he here? Yesterday he wanted to kill you and now he's apologising and caressing you?

"Well first of all, I'm not a thing or legend or whatever you called me" He spoke, his deep voice once again echoing in your head.

"Second.." "I didn't made anyone do anything, those children already have it in them and I am the only one who accepts them" You could feel the irony in his voice. You shook your head and looked at him. He was even closer now.

"And to your question 'why is he here'.. I came for you"

"What?!" You started to back away but he grabbed you. You tried to push him away, but in vain.

"Let me explain"

"Get away from me!"

"That's impossible dear, I already made a decision" You didn't understand what was going on, you had a terrible chaos.

"I didn't know it at first.. but your eyes.. it's like they spoke to me"

"Let me go!" You struggled against the deity's grasp as he held you in place.

"No, I want you to come with me"

"I said let me go!" You were already creating a plan how you will leave this house and never look back, when he spoke again.

"I wouldn't even think about it" "I guess you don't need the details of what happens when you leave"

"Why are you doing this to me?!" You were scared and desperate.

He took your face in his hands, "You did it to yourself by coming here" His tone was harsh. "But I think it was meant to be" "If you just let me.. I want you to know.. to see"

You didn't answer and he moved closer, his nose touching yours. You looked where his eyes would be and he pulled you into a kiss. When you closed your eyes, it seemed like a new reality was in front of you. Déjà vu.

You saw it all again. The forest, castle.. but now you could finally see who was always there with you.. It was him, holding your hand, leading you with him. You could see everything.

He broke the kiss and said "I wanted to make sure it's really you, i saw it too"

"I saw it before and i see it now"

"But how? I've seen this years ago every night and then it just-"

"I made it stop, I had to"

"Why?" You leaned into him and he kissed you again.

"If I hadn't done it.. I would really lead you to the castle one day, and you would die"

"It can't be done that way, your soul would be lost somewhere between the realms of hell and real world, if that happened, i would never be able to find you"

You tried to keep yourself together, but it was hard.

"I want to take you to my realm, you no longer belong here"

"I will give you everything you desire" He caressed your cheek. "If you let me desire you, and return it.. If you let yourself to be mine"

An hour ago, you couldn't even imagine something like this, but now it doesn't sound bad at all..

"The choice is yours but I already know the answer" The deity teased.

You rolled your eyes at him. He pressed his lips on yours one last time:

"I will come back for you tomorrow" He turned away to leave, but you reached and grabbed his hand.

"I don't want to decide alone.. stay" You said in a low tone.

Decision making has never been so much fun before.

Sinister (2012)

Director: Scott Derrickson

The symbol is associated with a Pagan deity named Baghuul. He consumes the souls of human children.