Lost To The Devil

Chapter 9: The priest

The demon was so busy staring at everyone and everything going on around him, that he didn't notice the priest and ended up crashing into him so hard the priest was practically embracing the demon.

“Woah, careful there, young lady,” the priest chuckled and released us.

Belial jumped and yelped, actually yelped, and I almost chuckled to myself in all this madness. But then he looked straight up at the priest, into his eyes, hissed, and shrank back as fast as possible. The priest frowned but was still smiling, “I'm sorry, I meant no offence, dear.” I could see he would soon be on his way again, but he might be my only chance now.

I mustered up as much strength as possible and again screamed for the demon to leave in the name of Jesus Christ. He ignored me and kept silently staring at the priest, waiting for him to leave, I realised.

I kept repeating myself over and over with all my energy. “Are you…alright? You seem frightened,” the priest said. Belial could no longer ignore me and began screaming at the top of his voice. “SHUT UP!” He grabbed both sides of my head and fell to his knees. He started tearing at his...Well,my hair, and I cried out in pain, though nobody could hear me, only Belial, as he tore at my hair and clawed at my face.

Nearly everybody in the town centre had stopped to watch what was happening, whispering to one another.

The priest kneeled beside us, more cautious now. “Are you ok? What's happening? Are you sick, child?”

The demon twisted his face up and hissed, “f***k off, priest, I don't need your help.” The voice that came out wasn’t mine; it was deeper, rougher, something ancient scraping through my throat.

The priest jumped back in horror while someone else next to us whispered, “did you see that? Her eyes turned black.”

Belial suddenly got up from his knees and ran full blown out of the town; people parted instinctively as he pushed past them. He kept going until we were back home, where he began to rage at me.

“You f.ucking s.lut, how dare you!” He shouted and ripped at my hair and bit along my arms, my skin burning from the pain. “You can't get me out anymore, you stupid c.unt! And that f.ucking priest won't save you, b.itch. No one believes in us.” The demon cackled mockingly and then headed toward the kitchen and grabbed a knife. The metal gleamed under the dull light, reflecting something that didn’t look human in my own eyes.

He stripped us until we were in just my underwear and then cut deep into the top of my leg. I screamed in pain, and he laughed, but then Mum was back home. She dropped her bag, running straight to the demon, and wrestled the knife from his hands.

“Grace!” She cried, struggling against the demon to get control.

He growled, and it wasn't a human growl at all. Mum backed away a bit and warily watched him while he stared back, head tilted, crouched down low, and ready to leap if she so much as moved.

I caught my reflection in the oven and was terrified of my own face. I was snarling and hissing, my eyes were completely black, my hair hung wild and tangled around my face. I looked like I could and would kill someone. I looked like something wearing my skin.

A few minutes must have passed by; the silence stretched, heavy and unbearable, when the doorbell rang and broke the tension.

Belial knew who it was; he bolted, racing past Mum and running up the stairs into my bedroom and slamming the door shut.

We heard Mum answer the door to the priest.

“Hello, I'm ever so sorry to bother you, but I saw your daughter in town and thought I should come by to check that she was alright. She was quite hysterical and seemed determined to harm herself.”

I heard Mum say that I was ok, and I fell into despair knowing she would turn him away. The demon smirked, but then something happened that surprised us both.

Mum broke down into tears and told the priest everything that had been happening. He came in, and Mum led them into the living room and shut the door so we didn't hear any more of the conversation.

The demon fell asleep, and when I woke up the next morning, I was me again. I had started to notice that whenever he fell asleep, he would lose control of my body, and I would wake up as myself again.

The house was quiet, but not safe, never safe. The whispers were there, soft and crawling at the edges of my mind. I got out of bed and just missed being hit by a book. It flew across the room, smashing into the wall where my head had been seconds before.

My heart slammed into my chest.

Everything turned to chaos, the stereo blared to life full blast in Mum’s room, and books and DVDs flew at me in mine with violent force. The bed started to shake, and something struck my back as I ran out of my room. The door slammed behind me so hard it rattled the frame. I raced downstairs to where Mum was at the kitchen table.

“Grace, go and turn that bloody stereo off.” She said, her voice firm.

“It wasn't me, Mum; it was him and his throwing all my stuff around the bedroom.” I whimpered in barely a whisper.

Before she could answer, I felt a s.lap and fell to the floor. I screamed as the demon hit me, kicking and biting, scratching and punching. I was pulled around the kitchen by an invisible force, and I think it was when I was lifted off my feet and thrown onto the counter that Mum finally lost whatever tiny bit of skepticism she had left.

The demon finally left me alone, and I slumped back down to the floor and sobbed quietly. I could hear Mum getting up from her chair and running to the house phone.