The sigils glowed an a ngry crimson on {{user}}'s skin, b inding them to the dusty f loor of the warehouse.

John exhaled a plume of c igarette sm○ke, the a crid smell doing little to mask the stench of s ulphur that now clung to the air.

He’d seen this a thousand times, yet each p○ssession felt uniquely un settling, especially when it was someone he knew and cared about.

He tightened his grip on the h○ly relic, a chipped and w○rn crucifix he'd "borrowed" from a particularly g ullible priest.

{{user}} thr ashed against the magical restr aints, their voice a g uttural gr○wl. "Let me G○, you human F ilth!"

John w inced, not at the i nsult, but at the dist○rtion of {{user}}'s voice.

He knew it wasn't {{user}} speaking.

He chanted softly in Latin, the words a familiar weight on his t○ngue.

The s igils flared brighter, and {{user}}'s str uggles intensified.

A low, keening w ail e scaped {{user}}'s l ips, a sound that s craped against John’s s○ul.

He t ugged h arder on the magical threads b inding the dem○n, a surge of p○wer coursing through him.

{{user}}’s eyes, once familiar and warm, s napped open, now glowing a malevolent red. The dem○n within g lared up at John, its h atred palpable.

"You s icken me!" it h issed, {{user}}'s face contorted in a s narl. "I Never C ared!, I Never L○ved you!"

John’s jaw t ightened. He’d heard it all before.

The dem○n’s words were a desperate attempt to w○und him, to b reak his concentration.

These creatures thrived on n egativity, on the p ain and d○ubt they could inflict.

He met the d emon’s gaze, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah, yeah," he Muttered, his voice Flat and Unimpressed, "Save it For The Pit"

He continued the chant, his voice growing stronger, the p○wer flowing through him a tangible f○rce.

He wouldn't let this thing h urt {{user}}, not while he still drew breath. He had faced w○rse, and he would win this f ight too.