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The Exorcism
#writcostorychallenge
I blink as I regain consciousness. My head throbs with a dull, persistent ache, a grim reminder of the blow I had taken. Or had someone hit me? The details are fuzzy, lost in the fog of my mind. Then I realize I’m holding something. It’s cold, metallic. A crucifix.
The only light in the room comes from a single candle, casting long, monstrous shadows on the walls. The air is heavy with an unseen dread, a palpable sense of evil that clings to every surface.
Suddenly, a low growl echoes through the room, a sound so guttural and inhuman it sends chills down my spine. It’s coming from the bed in the corner of the room. A figure lies there, thrashing violently against the restraints holding it down.
As I approach, the figure turns its head towards me. Its eyes are black voids, devoid of any humanity. It’s then I realize - this is no ordinary sickness. This is something far more sinister.
The figure convulses again, and a gut-wrenching scream fills the room. It’s a sound no human should be able to make. The crucifix in my hand suddenly feels heavier.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s to come. This is just the beginning of a long, terrifying night. As I start to recite the rites of exorcism, I can’t help but wonder - will I be able to save this soul… or will it be lost forever to the darkness?
I know who this person is - or rather, who they used to be. They are my friend, my colleague, my partner in this mission. We came here to investigate a series of mysterious deaths in this remote village, hoping to find some clues or answers. We didn't expect to find this.
This thing that has taken over their body, their mind, their soul. This thing that calls itself Legion, and speaks in many voices. This thing that knows my name, my secrets, my fears.
It taunts me with its words, trying to break me down. It says things like:
- "You missed your chance, priest. This soul is beyond salvation."
- "You have no power here, priest. You are nothing but a puppet of a false god."
- "You are playing with fire, priest. You don't know what you are dealing with."
I try to ignore it, to focus on the words of the ritual. But it's hard. It's hard to see my friend's face twisted in agony and rage. It's hard to hear their voice distorted and corrupted. It's hard to feel their pain and despair.
But I can't give up. I can't let them down. I have to do this. For them. For myself. For God.
I clutch the crucifix tighter, hoping it will give me strength and courage. I raise my voice louder, hoping it will drown out the noise and chaos. I pray harder, hoping it will make a difference.
I pray for a miracle.
But time is running out.
The candle flickers and dies.
The room plunges into darkness.
And then I hear it.
A voice that is not theirs.
A voice that is not mine.
A voice that is not human.
A voice that says:
"Hello, priest."
#Horror #Scary #Heartbreak
© Laloselix
I blink as I regain consciousness. My head throbs with a dull, persistent ache, a grim reminder of the blow I had taken. Or had someone hit me? The details are fuzzy, lost in the fog of my mind. Then I realize I’m holding something. It’s cold, metallic. A crucifix.
The only light in the room comes from a single candle, casting long, monstrous shadows on the walls. The air is heavy with an unseen dread, a palpable sense of evil that clings to every surface.
Suddenly, a low growl echoes through the room, a sound so guttural and inhuman it sends chills down my spine. It’s coming from the bed in the corner of the room. A figure lies there, thrashing violently against the restraints holding it down.
As I approach, the figure turns its head towards me. Its eyes are black voids, devoid of any humanity. It’s then I realize - this is no ordinary sickness. This is something far more sinister.
The figure convulses again, and a gut-wrenching scream fills the room. It’s a sound no human should be able to make. The crucifix in my hand suddenly feels heavier.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s to come. This is just the beginning of a long, terrifying night. As I start to recite the rites of exorcism, I can’t help but wonder - will I be able to save this soul… or will it be lost forever to the darkness?
I know who this person is - or rather, who they used to be. They are my friend, my colleague, my partner in this mission. We came here to investigate a series of mysterious deaths in this remote village, hoping to find some clues or answers. We didn't expect to find this.
This thing that has taken over their body, their mind, their soul. This thing that calls itself Legion, and speaks in many voices. This thing that knows my name, my secrets, my fears.
It taunts me with its words, trying to break me down. It says things like:
- "You missed your chance, priest. This soul is beyond salvation."
- "You have no power here, priest. You are nothing but a puppet of a false god."
- "You are playing with fire, priest. You don't know what you are dealing with."
I try to ignore it, to focus on the words of the ritual. But it's hard. It's hard to see my friend's face twisted in agony and rage. It's hard to hear their voice distorted and corrupted. It's hard to feel their pain and despair.
But I can't give up. I can't let them down. I have to do this. For them. For myself. For God.
I clutch the crucifix tighter, hoping it will give me strength and courage. I raise my voice louder, hoping it will drown out the noise and chaos. I pray harder, hoping it will make a difference.
I pray for a miracle.
But time is running out.
The candle flickers and dies.
The room plunges into darkness.
And then I hear it.
A voice that is not theirs.
A voice that is not mine.
A voice that is not human.
A voice that says:
"Hello, priest."
#Horror #Scary #Heartbreak
© Laloselix
