"No," I said, "I didn't suspect that for a second. I've known him for years, and while he had somehow become radicalized, he hadn't really changed. I could tell that it was still him."

"That's what you'd expect in a possession," Tuck said. "The victim still has their mind, but their soul has been squeezed out. Or their soul's expression has just been drowned out by the intruding soul. They're still the same person in many ways, but a different soul is running the show."

I was saddened to hear that Morty was a victim here, doing these awful things while possibly having no idea what he was really doing. At the same time, I took some comfort in knowing that he might not have been evil after all.

"Did you notice that Mrityu is a very similar name to Morty?" I asked. The thought had just occurred to me.

"Yes," Tuck replied. "They're from different languages, but they have the same roots. Mrityu is Sanskrit for death. Morty is short for Voldemort in this case, with 'vole de mort' being French for 'flight from death.' You could say it's a coincidence, but if so, it's certainly a fitting one."

"Anyway," I said, "Mrityu is the only one we have to deal with now. But I think he's going to be plenty. Let me ask you, if just part of his soul weighs 21 pounds, what does that tell us?"

"It tells us that we really need to deal with him before he takes on his physical form," Tuck answered.

"I agree," I said. "Let's go regroup with the others, and figure out what we're going to do."

We began walking towards the door, and as we got closer, we finally saw what Morty had done by pushing that button under his desk. We weren't looking at the wooden door we had expected, but a steel door that had come down in front of it. Morty had trapped us in.

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