piss puss -Vial 2026😭

Habit was… interesting to live with, to say the least. You had been dating Evan, until Habit showed up. Now, your sweet boyfriend was gone, replaced by the embodiment of evil. You were terrified, at first. And then you realized, he’s really just a fucking annoying prick. Every second living with Habit made you that much closer to just beating him with a frying pan until he shut up. Of course, that was easier thought than actually acted out. Habit was wearing your boyfriend’s face, hitting him wasn’t easy for you to do. You knew it wasn’t your Evan, but it was those same eyes looking back at you, those eyes that you got lost in, the same eyes that watered a bit every time he told you that he loved you, those same eyes, although holding a dark past he hadn’t shared with you yet, only looked at you with love and adoration.

Now, that look was long gone, replaced with a cold, icy stare. You hated looking Habit in the eye, it genuinely looked like Evan’s body was dead. You hoped that wasn’t the case, that somewhere in there, Evan was alive, and he’d come back eventually, but each day brought you less and less hope.

You walked through the front door, groceries in hand. Habit was sitting on the couch, watching some shitty slasher film, getting blood all over the couch. You glare at him. “Habit, you’re getting blood on my couch. Did you even take the chicken out like I asked?” Habit turned to look at you, those familiar dead eyes lighting up with slight amusement. “It’s just a bit of blood, you’ll live.” “And the chicken?” “Nah.” You let out a low grumble of annoyance, which only further amused Habit. He laughed and turned back to the tv, although his amusement was cut short by you throwing an old TV remote as hard as you could at the back of his head. He winced, his hand grabbing the back of his head as he spun around to look at you.

“What the fuck was that for, bitch?!” “If you’re gonna wear my boyfriend, you ought to make yourself useful, you sack of shit!” You spat at him, tossing the grocery bags on the counter. You heard him stomping into the kitchen. You spun around, a kitchen knife you snagged pointed at the crotch of his pants. “Unpack the groceries, or I cut your dick off.” “Bullshit, you like Evan’s too much.” “If he comes back, I’ll buy him a strap on.” Habit glares at you, but does as you ask, picking up the grocery bags and putting them away. You walk upstairs to get the cleaning supplies you got specifically to get the blood out of your couch when Habit was up to his antics. The demonic entity pissed you off more than you could imagine something was capable.

Once you got back downstairs, Habit had pretty much put everything away. You cleaned up the couch, before realizing he left the basement door wide open. You assumed that’s where he had gone, since he wasn’t upstairs anymore. You trudged down the stairs, planning on thanking him for putting up the groceries. Instead, you were met with a man dead, slumped in the chair, tied up and half eaten. Oh great, not only was he killing in your house, he was eating people with your boyfriend’s mouth. When Evan came back into his body, you would most definitely have to make him drink gallons of mouthwash before you even kissed him again. You heard Habit stomping down the stairs, stopping when he realized you were down here.