Exorcism

By Ella Hughes

Two tales of the demonic and supernatural
LAST EXORCISM Scout is a young woman that is recovering from an exorcism. She has little memory of being possessed other then flashbacks. She finds herself in a support group with other women her own age who relate their own personal stories to each other. They each have one thing in common other than being possessed...they are now being stalked by a mysterious, older woman. GAME OF EVIL Two estranged sisters who show up at their missing mother's estate to settle her estate and collect the proceeds. But as they sift through her belongings, they find a board game that holds a connection to their mother's disappearance ...and deadly consequences for anyone who plays it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trellis Publishing
• Release date: Jul 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201577339

Book preview

EXORCISM

table of contents

EXORCISM

GAME OF EVIL

Chapter 1

The girl heard the scraping of the crucifix against the wall as it slowly turned upside down, like iron on rock. The sound of it was as if it was scraping against her ear drum. She shut her eyes and screamed just to drown it out.

The men shouted louder.

Their prayers were deafening.

From all evil! the first shouted.

Deliver us, O Lord! the other called back.

The girl’s body was yanked up from within, her back arching upwards as if lifted from underneath by invisible hands. Both shoulders popped and she felt the invisible knife of dislocation stabbing her. The rope binding her wrists and ankles tore at her skin.

From all sin!

Deliver us, O Lord!

Make it stop! she screamed.

There was a hammering at the door. What are you doing to her?! came the scream from the other side. Let me in!

From sudden and unprovided death!

Deliver us, O Lord!

The priests were getting louder. The bed shook beneath her, its legs pounding into the floorboards. Underneath everything, within the textures of her own screams, there was another sound that only she could hear.

It was a voice.

It spoke in a language the girl had never learned, but she understood the meaning of every word. There were few words with equivalents in the English language. When she recalled them now, they came under umbrella terms like Obey, Awake and Submit, but there was more to them than that, nuances she couldn’t put into words, not even in her own mind.

From the snares of the Devil! The older priest was shouting at the top of his voice, competing with the screams and otherworldly groans that emanated from the girl.

Deliver us, O Lord! the younger priest shouted back.

One of them splashed water across the girl’s chest and it opened up as if she had been sliced with a knife. She felt the air rush into her chest cavity. She opened her eyes and her body was yanked back down to the bed. She took in the dark room, mattresses covering the windows, plastic covering the floors. She took in the two sleep-deprived priests, covered in bruises and scratches and with dark circles under their eyes. The older of the two was dressed in a white robe with a purple scarf. His robe was covered with red and brown blotches. The younger priest was dressed in black. Both wore the collar. Both were sweating and wild-eyed, caught up in the frenzy of the exorcism.

The girl took in the gaping wound in her chest.

Through it she could see her ribs, red with blood. He skin had parted like the opening of a flower bud.

"What are you doing to me?! she screamed at the priests. What are you doing?!"

She heard her mother’s pleas from beyond the door. Stop! she screamed. Please! Stop! You’re killing her!

The girl screamed too, matching her mother, like wolves howling in the wild. "You’re killing me!" she screamed.

Her ribs began to shift in her chest. They opened like interlocked fingers of two hands being pulled apart. The creaking and the cracking of bones added to the symphony of pain in the girl’s bedroom, the Hello Kitty dolls and the Justin Bieber posters witnesses to her physical deformation, to what she felt were sure to be her final moments.

The old priest held up his holy cross and shouted, We cast you out, every unclean spirit! In the name of and by the power of our Lord Jesus Christ!

The girl’s screams stopped and turned into horrific gargling sounds as her ribs withdrew into her body, like claws descending into an abyss below her flesh. Violent convulsions followed as her internal organs were laid out before the world, her chest opened like a sports bag. She looked down and she could see the beating of her heart.

Her heart sped up.

It went fast and faster.

She couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t think.

She could only wait to die.

The voice whispered to her. It seduced her. It spoke to her of peace and happiness. It offered her a place at its side. It offered her eternal life. The men in the room shouted their empty rituals helplessly at her, their ropes cutting into her flesh, holding her in place for the monster with its mouth to her ear.

The older priest drew a gun.

She only had to say the word, and it would all be over. The heart would stop. The world would disappear. Her pain would be forgotten.

The girl screamed, No!

*

The sound of gunfire jolted Scout into consciousness, throwing her back into the room and violently ripping her away from her hypnotic state.

She sat upright in a state of panic, her eyes wide, scanning for danger, looking for unfamiliar faces in the shadows, listening for whispers under the everyday sounds of air conditioners, fish tanks and traffic outside. It was just gone eleven in the morning. The daylight fought against the blinds of the therapist’s office and created an orange glow in the room, like fire light. Scout turned on the couch and put her feet on the floor.

It’s OK, Scout, Dr Maddox said. He stood and poured her a glass of water and set it down on the table beside her. Drink this.

Scout put her hand to her own chest and looked down.

There’s no hole, Dr Maddox said. You’re safe. This is a safe place.

The office was furnished in oak, with large bookcases with leather-bound books, framed photographs of Dr Maddox with his family on vacation and with community leaders at charity events, and a Juliet balcony which looked out over a trendy district of Detroit. The place was in one of the few places in the city which had more occupied buildings than derelict ruins. Nowadays, that counted for trendy.

Dr Maddox sat back down behind his expensive, custom-made desk. He took off his glasses and placed them on top of his notepad. He had loosened his tie while Scout had been under, she noticed, and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He watched her in a state of concerned detachment. She caught him glancing at the clock on the wall which told him her time was up.

Take your time, Dr Maddox said. You’ve been through a lot today.

The sound of the traffic below soothed Scout. She closed her eyes and listened and felt her heart almost beating out of her chest.

You’re doing great, Dr Maddox said. I can see real progress.

Scout opened her eyes. She brushed back her long blonde hair and rubbed her face with her hands to wake herself up.

I’m afraid our time is up for today, Dr Maddox said. I really think with a few more sessions we’re onto a real breakthrough here.

Scout walked to the coat rack and grabbed her puffy red winter jacket. She pulled it on. She stopped before leaving and looked at Dr Maddox. She had practiced this speech a hundred times. She felt her stomach knotting up as she readied herself to say the words.

I’ll see you next week? Dr Maddox said, standing.

I need to talk to you about that, Scout said.

Is it the money? Dr Maddox said.

Scout nodded. Her face was red with embarrassment. I’m sorry, she said, looking at her shoes. I don’t know if I can afford to keep seeing you.

Dr Maddox walked from around his desk and stood in front of Scout. If she was another patient, he would have touched her to comfort her, she knew that. But Scout didn’t like to be touched. Not by men. Dr Maddox was the only good one she knew - he had been helping her for six months now after she begged him for a reduced rate - but even he knew to keep a little physical distance. At 5’ 2", Scout was easily dwarfed by those around her, and, therefore, easily intimidated. She was always aware of her size, of others’ strength. It always been this way, ever since she could remember. At twenty-two years old, nothing had changed.

I want to get better, Scout said. "I want to be better. But I don’t have the money."

Are you working? Dr Maddox said.

At Havana’s, the nightclub over on the west side. I get steady work there, but it’s not enough for this.

I’m afraid there’s not much more I can do, Dr Maddox said. This is the lowest rate.

Scout tried to smile through the kick she felt in her stomach. I’ll be OK, she said, her voice breaking.

Listen, Dr Maddox said. Today is on me. I’ll mark it down as I cancelled the appointment. Keep your money.

Scout wiped away a tear. With a half-second decision like that, Dr Maddox had spared her a few sleepless nights and days upon days of worrying. She would never tell him how much it meant to her, because she was ashamed of how crucial an extra $60 was for her life. Thank you, she said.

Wait one second, Dr Maddox said.

He went back to his desk and wrote something down on a piece of paper. He folded it up and handed it to Scout. She opened it. It was an address. A church.

I want you to try something for me, Dr Maddox said. It might sound scary at first, but, I promise you, it will help you a lot. There are people there who have been through situations like yours. Not exactly the same, of course, but they are very open-minded about this kind of thing.

You mean they’ll believe me? Scout said.

You know I believe you, Scout, Dr Maddox said.

I don’t know if I can go to a church, Scout said. I’ve heard all the prayers I-

It’s not like that, Dr Maddox said. It’s a support group. The woman who runs it is a friend of my wife’s. They meet once a week, every Wednesday night. They meet in the basement. I was going to tell you about it when I thought you were more ready, but I think you need something to keep you going. Your situation... You need a support system. You don’t want to fall back into old ways of thinking. You have to give it a shot.

Thanks, Scout said, with little enthusiasm.

There’s free coffee and donuts, if that helps.

Scout managed to smile. It might, she said.

The woman who runs it is named Tara. She’s a bit of a hippy, but she’s good people. It’s a safe place. It’s for people who have suffered a spiritual crisis, or just people in need of a friend who, for whatever reason, aren’t comfortable with sermons. Will you go along?

Scout hesitated, then nodded.

You have my number. Give me a call if you need anything. If your situation improves, come back and see me. I wish I could take you on for free, but there are rules against that kind of thing. I could lose my license.

I get it, Scout said.

Dr Maddox fished in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He handed Scout fifty bucks. Here, he said. Please. I’ve only seen you for a month, but you’ve looked thinner every time I’ve seen you.

Scout held up her hands. No, she said. It’s OK. I’m OK. Thank you, though. I don’t want to take your money.

Dr Maddox took her hand and placed the note into it. Scout recoiled and shouted, No! She pulled back from his touch like it burned her.

I’m sorry, he said, raising his hands. I’m sorry. I just want to help.

Scout took a step away from him.

Listen, he