The Perfect Place

"What in god's name are you all?" Eamon questioned the creature taking possession of Winston's body. His voice echoed throughout the chambers of the compound, covered in darkness. Though Earmon held a facade of stoicism and bravery, the man shivered internally, his lungs breathing heavily, and his heart beating fast, as he was afraid of these alien creatures. 

"Us? We are not from here. We don't have a name for us. You can call us whatever you see fit," the creature replied, its voice a mingle of Winston's voicebox, low pitched. It send a little shiver down everyone's spine when they heard him speak. 

"Are you all demons? Do you know them?" Eamon asked next. 

"Fortunately for you, no. We are not demons. We are separate beings, far removed from them. However, we do have experience in dealing with these 'demons' as you say.