CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE #2
I watched, fingernails clawing at the flesh of my arms, as Joe inched closer until he stood mere centimetres away, the crucifix close enough to bite. I did not have to act when I thrashed against the chains and spat at his feet. There was no one I hated more at that moment.
Latin rolled off his tongue, the Devil stirring at the resurrection of the dead language.
I hadn’t known it was Latin during my first exorcism, but schooling introduced me to the language that the Devil was so afraid of.
His silence heightened the fear flooding through my body.
I wasn’t used to facing these horrors alone.
The Devil had always been there. Taunting, yes.
Mocking, of course. But he was there, protecting me when necessary.
I thrashed against the chains as Nathaniel had instructed, channelling the role of a demon fighting against God’s divine power.
Joe raised his voice, but the flames did not rise at his command. Smoke did not smother me. I was not gasping for air, fighting to survive, like all those years ago in North Lane. It was not Joe, then, who had the power to expel the demon. It was my mother.
“Satan!” Joe called, droplets of holy water landing on my forehead. “You are banished from this boy’s body! You are banished from his soul! You are banished from God’s Kingdom! Be gone!”
I wrestled with the chains, spitting at Joe’s feet.
"Be gone!" Joe repeated.
I screamed, the sound echoing along the walls, my reflection trembling as though a demon really were struggling to maintain possession. I gave my chains one last yank before collapsing with feigned exhaustion, eyelids fluttering shut.
A heavy silence followed, the flames drowning in wet wax.
“Did it work?” Nathaniel asked, voice laced with hope. “Is the Devil gone?”
Joe crouched down, fingers against my neck to feel for a pulse. “Augustus?” he called softly. “Can you hear me?”
I forced my eyes open with feigned confusion, groaning as though my muscles ached. “What’s…what’s going on?”
“Your soul has been freed,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face, “you have been saved. The Devil plagues you no more.”
I will tear that smile off his face with my teeth.
The Devil had returned, his harsh tongue a welcome torment. I relaxed, shoulders slumping as though I were a man truly freed.
“What happens now?” Nathaniel asked.
Joe brushed the hair out of my eyes as he said, “Now we pray.”
Nathaniel hovered by the door, picking at his lip as he watched Joe raise his hands in the air, prayer spilling from his lips in endless waves. I could tell he was growing impatient, as was I.
I sat, unblinking, head bowed in a mimicry of devotion. The Devil laughed behind my glassy eyes, hatred laced in each word that poured from his wicked tongue. I dared not look in the mirror, afraid of what I might see in the Devil’s eyes.
“Augustus,” Joe whispered. “I am going to unchain you. Rise slowly, your body may be weak.”
The rustle of metal announced the removal of my shackles, the absence of iron a welcome relief.
Nathaniel was at my side in an instant, throwing one of my arms over his shoulder to steady me as my legs refused to cooperate. “We should go,” he whispered, guiding me toward the door.
“Now hold on, just a second,” Joe said, following us out into the hall, “come to my office. Let me dress those wounds.”
Nathaniel and I exchanged a wordless glance. We had little choice but to resume our roles of obedient soldier and freed soul. We followed.
Joe sat at his desk, gesturing for Nathaniel and I to take the seats across from him. We did, the chairs groaning from our weight, as if on the verge of collapsing at any moment.
“That was a spectacular performance,” Joe said, voice dripping with condescension.
Nathaniel straightened in his seat. I deflated.
“The Devil is still in there,” he went on, shaking his head with disappointment, “I can feel him.”
“Wait, the exorcism didn’t work?” Nathaniel continued his act, lips parted in surprise.
Joe’s gaze snapped to him. “Enough.”
Nathaniel opened his mouth to prolong the act, but I cut him off, knowing the show had come to an end.
“Why let me go, then?” I asked.
“To give you a choice.”
“A choice?” I scoffed.
“You can stay here and pray until the Devil is banished for good,” he said, leaning forward in his seat. “Or, you can die.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat as he withdrew a long blade from his desk drawer, the Devil unnaturally calm as he paced up and down the crowded corridors of my mind.
Nathaniel shielded me from the blade, rising to his feet, long limbs an easy target for an attack.
“We’re leaving,” he announced coldly. “We’re not a part of your…deranged cult.”
“That boy is possessed,” Joe spat, pointing the blade toward me. “And that demon has lodged itself into your heart.”
Nathaniel released a low, humourless chuckle. “Oh, so now I am possessed too?”
“Nate,” I whispered, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
“I cannot allow the Devil to harm another soul,” Joe said, “move aside, boy, or I will cut you down too.”
Nathaniel was as still as a statue, defiance in every line of his body. I realised, with sickening clarity, that Nathaniel would die if I did nothing. He would choose me.
The Devil threw my body toward Nathaniel, knocking him to the side to avoid Joe’s blade.
He grunted as he hit the wall, but an apology had to wait, for Joe lunged toward me, blade aiming for my neck.
It whistled over my head as I ducked, my hands reaching for his robes like a feral cat, nails cutting into the material to keep him from Nathaniel.
His blade swung in my direction, narrowly missing my chest.
I tackled him to the floor, a tangle of limbs battling for dominance. I kicked the weapon from his grasp and held him down with my entire body, knees on either side of his writhing torso, hands pinning him by the chest.
“Demon!” he spat.
I silenced him with an elbow to the throat, reaching out with one hand to retrieve the blade that had fallen from his tight grasp.
Joe gazed up at me, fear dancing in his eyes. I drank it in, absorbing the way his eyes widened, pupils dilating, lips parted in a breathless gasp. I watched him the way he watched me all those years ago, smothered by smoke, trapped in the flames, praying for a God that never came.
“You’re the Devil,” he hissed. “Soon they will all see just how monstrous you are!”
Let them.
Let them believe it. Let them tremble. Because the real monster was not the Devil. It was me.
“See you in Hell.”
I drove the blade through his heart.