“So, wh-what now?”
The priest-exorcist gave a simple shushing gesture to the mother - not in irritation, but with a reassuringly small smile. He couldn’t have her distracting the rest of the clergy at this crucial period. But with the tears in her eyes by now, it was clear that the mother was unable to even read the small prayer book she’d been given to aid the congregation.
The exorcist then turned to the stand on his right, and retrieved the aspergillum from its goblet of water. Turning to each member, he gave a hard singular shake of the rod upon each person present - including the mother - letting the holy water douse them. Then he gave a sprinkle unto himself, and approached the victim. The boy, no older than eleven, was slowly bobbing around in the middle of the chapel, occasionally flinching or spasming a limb. But his blood shot eyes stared upwards, not even a hint of consciousness present.
Unjudgingly, the priest flicked the aspergillum once more - it got the child’s attention. He hissed and flailed, still not lowering his head. Breathing out, the priest nodded to his clergy and kneeled, before beginning the litany of supplication. His prayers were loud and commanding, and the choir of responses from the seven others followed like waves crashing against the shore. He could feel the strength of their combined faith - they were sure to succeed.
The mother attempted to follow along, copying the clergy’s words. “Lord have mercy… Lord have mercy… Christ have mercy…” She barely understood what was going on, but then again the last two months had been near incomprehensible. The church denied her this rite on multiple occasions; only when every other avenue of exploration had been followed - doctors, psychologists, therapists, school adjustments - and returned with nothing did they allow this exorcism to occur. But now, she worried if even this would work.
When she had broken free from her own thoughts, she looked up to see the priest lowering the cross. Her son’s head was still hung back - it’d been that way for days, as though the last ounce of control he had over his body was being spent to look towards heaven, towards salvation. She couldn’t bear to look and closed her eyes again, joining in the chants once more to the best of her ability.
The exorcist stepped forward, now having to close the gap, and released a breath of air onto the child’s face. “By the br-”
The boy screeched and clawed at the priest, only managing to scrape at his purple stole. Surprised but still determined, the priest swallowed and readjusted his attire, before starting again with the breath. “By the breath of your mouth, O Lord…”
The prayers continued. By the imperative formula, the boy had collapsed to his knees. He gurgled and made horrid sounds as though he were suffocating - no, being strangled. His mother turned away at this point, but the exorcist continued. When the twitching grew to limbs flying outwards, he continued. When that turned to rocking and flailing and screaming and howling to the setting sun, he continued. The boy never went after anyone, only violently reacting in the space surrounded by the clergy, gaze still transfixed skyward.
His fingernails were starting to dig into cheek, blood just barely coming to the surface - when he ceased. The gutteral noises came to a halt. His body, stretching upwards before as his legs failed to stand, dropped. Head fell, finally dropping forward.
“Nate? NATE!” The mother ran forward to cradle her child, and the exorcist smiled, wiping his brow. The exorcism was a success - the demon had been expelled.
The last glimmer of sunset passed, and the stained glass lighting dimmed into nothingness. The only source of light that remained were the candles now, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Too long. The priest looked about at his clergy - they seemed either frightened or dulled from the two hour ritual. He didn’t blame them, but was confused by the fear.
Turning back to the boy, he saw why. Mother cradled son, and darkness cradled them both. A twisted, turning arm of pitch black that continued to a form of night and fangs. Teeth and teeth and spine, endlessly moving into its own gaping maw of a mouth, as though the thing were swallowing its own face. The expulsion… had been a success.
“So…” the beast growled. “What now, priest?”
Written by RedNovaTyrant
Content is available under CC BY-SA