The battle is over. Even demonic ghosts cannot be fought and all that’s left of you, my demon, is a ghost. The how and when hardly matter, all I know is you have been vanquished allowing me to someday find peace.
What’s left of you are scars and patchy memories which will fade with time. Nightmares that will gradually lose their power over me. Guilt of letting you escape that I will wear down. I know it wasn’t my fault.
I will heal, demon. You have not won.