Hex anxiously waited for the demon to show up that night. He didn’t have anything to protect himself—no crosses, nothing. He hadn’t believed in that kind of thing, but after getting magical powers all that changed. Demons were real, and he didn’t know what else might come through once the door had been opened. It was midnight, so he thought he’d be safe; Turbuk had said it would be fine after midnight. The thing was supposed to appear that night, but the day had passed—so it wouldn’t now, right? He went to sleep feeling relieved.

The next thing he knew he was in a factory. He knew it was a dream—he’d had lucid dreams before. He walked through the factory and came upon a circular platform where someone who looked exactly like him was standing.

“Hello?” Hex called.

The doppelganger turned. It wore a mask that looked like a face without skin; red eyes stared through the openings.

“I am here to torment you, human,” the doppelganger said.

“I’m not exactly human—I'm an Angel of Acid,” Hex said proudly.

“Really? I’ve never heard of a thing like that before.” The doppelganger took off his mask. Underneath, he had the same face as Hex.

“What’s your name, demon? And why did you take my form?” Hex asked.

“I’ve been watching you for a while,” the doppelganger replied. “You’re exactly the kind of faithless man I’m into tormenting. Also, I chose your form because it is the closest to perfection.” "You may call me... Pestilence Machine—Pestilence for short." Pestilence looked at his arms proudly. "Perfection? A short guy like me? You've got to be kidding." He scoffed. "Everyone has a different perception of perfection; I like being young-looking." Pestilence smiled. "Trust me, I'm a long way from perfect." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Aw, don't sell yourself short, hun. I may be here to torment you, but please don't do my job for me." Pestilence shook his head. "I could point out a million flaws, and that's just physically." He squinted; he didn't think highly of himself at all. The times he acted narcissistic were only to pretend he had some kind of ego—that's what no self-esteem got him.

"Again, please don't do my job for me. Although it might be easy to reinforce some of your biases against yourself, I was surprised you were helping me instead of trying to kick me out. I'm a demon, you know. See?" Pestilence spread wings made from square hunks of metal with square holes at the ends that dripped blood. "As long as you aren't here to hurt my friends, I'm fine with it being just me." He shrugged.

"Well, how about I have you all to myself? I could possess you and take your lover out of the picture. Then it could be just you and me." Pestilence put a finger to his bottom lip. "I won't let you hurt her." He hadn't had any qualms with the demon up until that point. "I'd like to see you stop me. I won't have you with anyone else, you see." Pestilence laughed. "I'd prefer that you look only at me. Even if you hate me, I enjoy it."

"I'll do whatever it takes to get you out of me," he said. "I was fine with you before, but if you threaten Din, we are no longer on good terms."

Pestilence frowned. "I'd like to see you try." He laughed and dissipated.

He woke up very disturbed. He had to protect Din, but how? When would the demon strike? He wondered whether the demon had been flirting with him and concluded that it had, from the way it spoke. He had to figure out how to protect Din from himself without letting her know that a demon inside him was waiting to get out.