In the Name of Evil

By Noëlle McHenry

Father Kain Akkerman never wanted to be a priest.

His faith in God and all things holy is and always was lacking. But for one reason or another, on a Sunday night in November of 1992, he finds himself preparing to exorcise a demon from a teenaged girl.

Working with a stranger, an angelic young priest named Jasper de Witte, he assumes it will be no more than a routine exorcism. But he soon learns to never underestimate the power of the devil's angels . . .

Will Fathers Akkerman and de Witte survive long enough to complete the exorcism, or will they become nothing more than the demon's mortal playthings?

A fictional horror novelette by Noëlle McHenry, author of Don't Wake Me Up Just Yet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Noëlle McHenry
• Release date: Jan 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370361199

Noëlle McHenry

My name is Noëlle McHenry. I'm a Canadian author, and I've been writing dramatic fiction since I was a young squirt. I began writing my first story in 2006. It wasn't very good, but you need to start somewhere, and I feel like I have improved so much since then. What used to be a mere hobby is now steadily becoming my passion. Almost all of my stories are part of a fictional universe that I call Project Eclipse. I have been developing the characters and stories of this universe since 2011. In all honesty, I could probably say these characters are like family to me. I hope to have many more years of writing and improvement ahead of me. I can't wait to write my next story, whatever it may be.

Book preview

In the Name of Evil

Also by Noëlle McHenry

Don’t Wake Me Up Just Yet

Polarity

Ignore the Camera

In the Name of Evil

A fictional horror novelette by Noëlle McHenry

This novelette is a work of fiction. Names, characters, dialogue, businesses, locations, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Text copyright © 2016 – 2017 Noëlle McHenry

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 1981426663 (Paperback Edition)

ISBN-13: 978-1981426669 (Paperback Edition)

ISBN-13: 9781370361199 (Smashwords Edition)

ASIN: B01N2ZR5SI (Kindle Edition)

Exorcism rites quoted from Catholic Online

Copyright © 2017 Catholic Online

Cover by Noëlle McHenry

Cover font: Sea Dreams Font by Heather Taylor

Free for commercial use

Fifth Edition (01 December 2017 – 02 December 2017)

Written for my beloved parents, without whom I would be nothing.

Table of Contents

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

About the Author

Connect with the Author

I

It wasn’t until they heard the deep, demonic snarls from upstairs that the two priests realized what they were about to walk into. It was Sunday, November 1st, in the year of 1992. Nighttime.

As the thumping and roaring continued upstairs, Father Kain Akkerman stared at himself in the hallway’s mirror. Behind him was the living room, but he didn’t focus on that. Instead, he focused only on his old, weathered face and thought about his life.

He’d never wanted to be a priest. When he was younger, he had aspirations of being something . . . well, less religious. His faith in God—in the whole umbrella of religion itself—had always been wavering, even from a young age. There were a lot of things about the bible that he’d never understood, and that he knew he never would understand. Things like God having a plan for everybody. With almost 5.5 billion people to watch over, He must’ve felt overwhelmed. There must have been times when billions fell into the cracks, assuming He was still watching at all. Which of course assumed that He had ever been around, and that people of religion weren’t fooling themselves.

Yet even despite his lack of faith in God, there he stood in the Giese household. He wasn’t even a bishop anymore; he had been, once, but ended up demoting himself. There were others who were more deserved of the title. Others who had much stronger faith than he did.

That train of thought brought Father Akkerman’s eyes off of his own reflection and onto someone else’s. Behind him, in the living room, stood Father Jasper de Witte. The young priest, ordained only recently, spoke to the ever-anxious Mr. and Mrs. Giese in a low voice. His straight, short hair was a near-platinum shade of blond. From what Father Akkerman had heard, it and the priest’s blue eyes were frequent topics of discussion among the local archbishops. It seemed strange for such attention to be put not on Father de Witte as a person or a catholic priest, but on his appearance. But Father Akkerman figured he understood: Father de Witte had what he could only describe as an angelic presence. With a voice as smooth as silk, he was a calm and gentle man. His small frame only added to his much-admired aura. All of a sudden, the young man glanced toward the hallway, as if sensing that he had an extra pair of eyes on him. Father Akkerman averted his eyes from the mirror altogether and instead looked down at the dark wooden dresser under it.

They had two violet stoles. The ritual he and Father de Witte were about to perform hadn’t been in practice for decades. Because of its near-archaic nature, neither of the priests were entirely sure what they were doing. Father Akkerman had attempted a similar ritual during his brief months as a bishop. Needless to say, it had almost been unsuccessful. But this case—the case of the sixteen year old girl upstairs—was already so much worse, and he’d not even set foot upstairs yet. No, that had been Father de Witte the day prior. After returning to the church, his flushed skin no longer so, he’d only said that he believed something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Whether it had been Father de Witte who proposed the ritual or not, Father Akkerman had come from another city for it. He was the only priest close to the small town who’d ever had success in performing the act. But the priest had his doubts, for he was in his late sixties. He’d been a young man last time. Now he was too old. He glanced back at his reflection and asked himself what he felt was a necessary question: was he ready to die?

Alongside the stoles were two folded surplices and a golden pectoral cross. While he was no longer a bishop, and thus no longer wore a pectoral cross, he’d borrowed it from his church for luck. There were also two bibles and a small orb-like bottle of holy water. It was easy to tell which bible belonged to which priest. While Father de Witte’s looked brand new and well-maintained, Father Akkerman’s had seen wear and tear and was standing the test of time. Print on some pages had faded with age, but he’d never bothered to ask for a replacement. He wasn’t too concerned about losing a few pages.

Gentle footsteps approached him, so he again looked up