And I can feel it: my consciousness slipping behind the bubble of pain surrounding me.
This is it. I’m going to lose control once again, and I’m either going to kill everyone here or I myself will die. Life as I know it is over.
My eyes shift to Cameron, who’s still being held by Julian, his hand outstretched to me.
“Atticus,” he whispers.
With my last bit of strength, I whisper, “I love you.”
Everything, once again, goes momentarily black as I’m forced behind that wall, left alone to watch the scene before me in silence.
Cameron
27
ATTICUS’S EYES ROLL BACK,quickly covered by his eyelids as they slide closed. For a brief second, he’s completely still.
“It has taken control,” the priest says lowly, reaching into his case to pull out a vial of clear liquid.
And as Atticus opens his eyes again, they’re black. The thing that has frequented my bedroom for weeks is now lying on Atticus’s bed, its eyes narrowing on the priest.
“Ego te interficiam,”it says, distorted and deep. A threat, I’m sure of it.
“Nothing can harm me in the presence of the Lord,” Reverend Clark replies. And then he unscrews the vial.
Atticus’s body jerks on the bed, thrashing wildly as the chains jingle around him.
“I exorcise you, demon of hell,” the priest yells, yanking his hand down to throw a thin line of the clear liquid over Atticus’s body.
It wails, a devastating and terrifying sound, as the exposed skin that was touched by the liquid bubbles and burns.
“Abraham!” Mrs. Chastain shouts, and her husband covers her ears, watching the scene before him with saddened, panicked eyes.
“I will tear flesh and drink blood!” the demon howls, tearing the blankets under his hands to shreds.
“Our Father in heaven,” the priest continues. “I call to you to save this boy and banish this vile thing to the depths of hell!”
Atticus’s skin has grown red, his sharp teeth bared, and his black eyes angry and vicious. He contorts, ripping a hand from one of the handcuffs. The metal gives way, slicing his wrist open in the process.
“Oh, god!” Atlas cries, pressing himself to Julian, and by proximity, me as well.
The Chastian Castle cook who came into that room under the chapel earlier, and another man I vaguely recognize, stand next to Julian’s father, frowning.
“You!” that distorted voice shrieks, pointing a bloodied finger toward the priest. “I willdestroyyou!”
Reverend Clark throws more of what I’m assuming is holy water at Atticus’s body, the smell of singed skin filling the air. He grabs his Bible, reciting verses as he coats the demon with more holy water.
It seethes, attempting to claw at the chains holding his waist.
“Is it working? “Atticus’s mom asks, her face still buried in her husband’s shoulder.
No one responds to her because no one knows. All I can see is the man I love, writhing in pain and angrier than I’ve ever seen.
And then, a thin trail of blood begins to leave his mouth, his body seizing.
“Reverend?” the man I vaguely recognize questions, his eyes growing wide.
“You who perverts the will of God, who uses the nature of sin to trap and to harm, I revoke your power! No more shall you use desire and manipulation to control the body you possess! In the name of the Son, the Father, and the Holy Spirit, I banish thee!”
