It's amazing what happens when you tell a lie enough times. Not only does it work when you tell yourself the same lie but when you feed it to someone over and over and over again. The beginning of the lie had been the orphanage. Ole Jack hadn't a clue what was really going on in his world. Nor could he know. No he was living in ignorant bliss. Most of them were. Every kid that had been put into the concentration camp had been put there for more than just a few reasons. One of the main reasons... they just needed to die.
Wayne Jackson knew that these kids would be gifted. He knew that they had been blessed by God. In fact he knew it so intimately because he had done what most men could only dream of doing. He accepted the demon that came to him. Allowed it to fill his being. The darkness flowed into him, extinguished the existence of his light. Wayne was no more man than any other demon was. The demon surrounded his spirit, took control of his mind, and became one with his body. It gave him certain knowledge and power. Unfortunately the light still bested them.
So what was Wayne going to do about all of these supposed "Gifted?" Make them believe that they were nothing more than deranged people who were seeing things that weren't there. If they could get them to stop believing and gave up their faith they were vulnerable. Their "Armor of God" fell away. It was his and his people's mission to destroy God's chosen by any means necessary. To pave the way for the Prince.
So far they've gone the crafty route. When they first arrive they implanted devices in their heads. It reads the brain waves that specifically react when they use their abilities. It triggers a headache that incapacitates them. They couldn't use the devices to just blow their heads up. They already tried that. Blew them up and where their heads used to be was eruption of blood. It was magnificent! Until a few minutes later the heads grew back and they were none the wiser of what happened. Wayne chuckled to himself.
Irritation crept up on him then. They had tried everything. Each kid they attempted to kill in a different way. Incineration, decapitation, drowning, slicing, stabbing, strangling, hanging, acid baths, and even trying things in combination. None of it had worked! One time a kid took his life willingly. That was the first time any one of them had actually died. So then seeds of doubt were placed in their heads. Doubts of who they were and what they saw. Hoping to drive them mad and make them want to end it all. Most found to be resilient. With all of them being ten and having faith in God before getting to the camp it made things difficult. It was easier to make them want to die than to make them believe that there was no God that loved them and that He didn't exist.
There organization was vast and powerful, but not without its flaws. They still had to abide by laws. To the kids and everyone around it was a sort of orphanage. They had to go through different hoops and laws. Even inspections were made. Most of what they were doing was easy to hide. What wasn't easy was hiding the kids. The inspectors could still see them regardless of any illusions they manifested before them. The other thing they couldn't hide was their age. The state still had records of each child's birth. Needless to say they only had till they were eighteen before they had to release them.
Throughout the time of them being in the Orphanage they had killed all but seven. They found no other alternative of keeping them so instead made preparations for when they got out. They were required to report in to therapists they put in place before hand to keep tabs on them.
Empty shells, husks if you will, were cloned from the original DNA of the kids before. Mindless and possessed by demons. This way they looked like the rest of the admin. The seven that were left only needed to think they're peers were still with them. The husks said what the administration told them to and act the way they told them to act. The chosen were none the wiser. They had no idea their peers had broken and shattered and they took their own lives or that they lost their faith in God and became killable. The talk of God became a problem though. The demons would flee at the sound of the Almighty. After much practice they ran away as the husks instead of fleeing the body they inhabited. Fortunately the last seven stopped talking about God to the others and kept it amongst themselves.
His recollection of his memories faded. He felt the familiar claw reach into his being. It ached and burned like thousands of fire ants biting him. The feeling started from the soles of his feet and worked its way up to the base of his neck. Drisel. The demon that had shown him how to become one with the demon that was within him. The smoky black body appeared before Wayne, arm extended to the base of his neck. Then as he saw the smoky arm slide down from his neck to his chest over his heart, the feeling of fire ants followed. A distorted grin on its face, and grimy yellow pupil less eyes penetrating him. Wayne felt his demon withdrawal from him slightly.
"Why do you reminisce and gloat to yourself about a victory you are still so far from having?" Drisel hissed.
"I-"
"-Didn't ask you to speak. No, no I didn't." Drisel finished. Heat went up Wayne's spine, but he knew better than to say anything. "The master grows weary of waiting. You still have sssssevenn," it could barely get the number out, "left to go and the last one killed was just before they were getting ready to leave the orphanage. Need I remind you what happens when one of you fails the master?"
A memory from not so long ago crawled its way to the forefront of his mind. A precursor they had said for failing. Hooks the size of his hand had been driven into his shoulders, hands, feet, and knees. The sounds of bones snapping sounded in his ears. Screaming from his already raw throat bringing blood into his mouth. Nearly drowning in his own blood. He had been begging for death to come, but no sweet release ever came. Days of hoping he'd pass out from the pain to go even a moment of pause from it all. Drisel had been there smiling and laughing wildly. The memory faded.
"I thought not." A pause. "The master is giving you one month. That is all. Break them. Make sure the one remains alive though. He still has to turn on God."
Jack. Jack Bryant was the key to bring it all to an end. Hell on Earth. It was all the master wanted.
Wayne whispered, "It will be done."
Drisel withdrew its hand. "One more thing. How fairs the man that had the demon ripped from him?"
He was referring to the most recent failure of his. They called them waking nightmares. In reality it all happened. Ranger had failed. Stripped of his demon. No one else could see what was happening but Jack. When Jack blasted him Ranger did manage to get out of the line of sight before Jack's light dissipated. Ranger was left weak though. They always were when the demons left the body.
Wayne cleared his throat, "He's not contacted me, let alone reached out. He might be another deserter."
Drisel hissed his disapproval and brought his finger to a razor edge, putting it against Wayne's throat. "Find him. Make him remember why abandonment isn't an option!"
Wayne nodded. There was no use arguing the fact that those that lost their demons usually became believers of God. It was easy for them to fight off any temptation or attack. Instead he kept his mouth shut and Drisel withdrew.