Amity Possession: Father/Son

A Story by Abishai100

Adaptation of the iconic 1982 American horror-exorcist 'shocker' (real-life adapted) tale of family-value come-undone (for all best men).

A fanfiction of the iconic/brilliant Amityville: The Possession (James Olson), with no express ties to the film or production-company (Delaurentiis/Orion).

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I'd been wrestling in my soul with my father for an incomplete-lines reading for the hellmouth of emotionally taut father-son relations in a Homeland-Jersey town-home certainly demonically possessed, and I abandoned all ethics and betrayed my school-sweetheart (Esmerelda) and killed my uncle who was trying to protect me when my father's alcoholism yielded an armed (knife) engagement on Xmas-Eve. My name's Ronald, and the story I tell you isn't normal, because the possessed house, the demon inside, with a wolfen-spirit/brain, entered mine and took-away from me any Selfie-commentary culture reading for the Ego.

EMIT: You're a stinkin cliched American and my security-guard position is godly to me.

ME: You talk like a raving-drunk in this house brightly-lit by mom's arts/crafts, dad.

EMIT: If you had the gumption to engage (in-face) the basement-specter, I'd love you!

ME: I just might take Esmerelda's dad's rifle, get here on Xmas-Eve, and shoot you.

EMIT: Oh, hahaha, maybe do mom a different favor and use a silencer on her, priest.

ME: You mock with the words of a swayed-man; I won't let this haunted-house win.

EMIT: This is my house (Facebook-like).

ESMERELDA: I don't find myself drawn to become your stat-queen, Amlan Satan.

ME: I changed my name, hon (Ronald!).

ESMERELDA: You want to make me Ophelia, Ronald?

ME: I'm going to let this demon enter my blood; I'm going to bury Emit, Esmerelda.

ESMERELDA: Shoo-me away then and get your own crime-stat Facebook-photos.

ME: Good (Facebook-like).

So on New Year's Day, I'm grabbing all my photos (Internet) of blue-chips, gold, diamonds, tickets, and anything else a consumerism-exorcist (like me!) would procure to challenge Emit with my enhanced mental-powers, powers I got from this possessed house from Hell in a Homeland-Jersey small-town (suburbia) called Amity, where my image-brain and quills will show all (through this time-capsule representation writing) why spirits turn folks into the fortune-readers God intended them...to become (for all!).

Emit (actually) worked as a security-guard, in our suburbia, in a market, and I respected what he was able to provide for others while failing to provide a home-comfort 'psyche' to our very-own (American!) family. What would I do, to become a man? I already turned-away Esmerelda, the love of my awful-life. Emit's security-position reminded me why Earthlings always found 'position' for life/employment confidence (Facebook-like).

"Friends, 'Ronald' (Amlan Satan) didn't make it past New Year's, for that demon he spoke of, in the (incomplete/unfinished) time-capsule tell we've found (years-later) in that now abandoned Amity-house, laid in Ronald's attic-chest (incomplete), took-over his 'consciousness' and moved him to death and a wrong-fate...suicide. While his father was also found having committed suicide, it was Ronald who may've slit his wrist to fake the bloody-murder from the dark-side of the human-spirit. The house, now in ruins, is still said to be holding a lurking wolfen-image specter from the Inferno (of dodecahedrons)."

"Friends, the really awful-stinker of this incomplete tale is that Ronald was a bright American with dreams of becoming an artist or architect and instead router-shorted his terrible social-media friendly-destined life into a tale of bad mortality (for all!)."

RONALD (Journal): "Esmerelda's only gift (Xmas)...a leviathan-exorcising doll with gorgeous orange-hair...it shall release me from the house-demon in Amity that's filled my flesh-and-bone with that non-mortal sense of (bad) lying."

"Friends, 'Ronald' (Amlan Satan) was simply the Earthling-consciousness fate 'victim' of a tale of angels-and-demons, and that doll he commented on in his journal shall forever remind those he left-behind in a fit of haunted-badness why the elephants-and-mice of our fare-rich Blue Planet may (occasionally) render a Selfie-culture comment for a language-arts (inverted) reading in vanity's awful and humbling everyday-life castle-grins."