night terror
We were in a musty room, the three of us, that looked like it was decorated during a particularly cocaine addled part of the 70s. The chairs we sat in were furnished in cracked, dark orange leather and were shaped as if to fit to the contours of our bodies. Our shoes resting in the corner of the room, we sunk our bare feet into the dark brown shag carpet that was easily an inch or so thick. A record spun on a gramophone, pressing against the needle in the blank wax at song’s end. It made the air crackle and hiss. In the middle of the room sat an antique coffee table, knee high, upon which were scattered lit candles, a knife, and a bowl of sheep’s blood. We sat in a triangle around the table, none of us speaking.
Sitting to my right was Fawn, a teenager with a ghostly pale complexion and white hair, her bangs drawing a line across her eyebrows. Small freckles dotted her cheeks and her eyes were a pale, glacial blue. She was dressed in all white and, in lieu of her virginal nature, was acting our bait. To my left was Dr. Aldous Flynn, an expert in the paranormal and renowned exorcist. His mustache curled down around his lips and his glasses seemed a size too big for his face. He smoked Marlboro 100s and claimed that the smoke allowed him to sense a spirit’s presence more easily. The candles flickered and danced as the record continued its infinite rotation.
“We must hold hands, we must hold hands and you must drink this,” he mumbled, handing me the bowl of blood. I took a sip and the taste of iron and glucose stung my tongue. It smelled like sweet glue.
“All of it.” I turned the bowl upwards, finishing the blood. My stomach growled in disgust and protest.
“Fawn, do you remember the song I taught you? My dear, when we hold hands I am going to need you to begin singing it, do you understand?” She nodded. The small fires danced on their wicks. I was sweating.
“Ok now, you must repeat after me. Fawn, please begin dear. Now, are you ready?” I nodded as Fawn began to sing, a sweet and spindling melody, wordless, but haunting. Dr.Flynn looked at me.
“Repeat every word and be careful to mispronounce nothing. Do you understand?” I nodded. “Ok. Here we go… Exorciso te, omnis spiritus immunde.”
Exorciso te, omnis spiritus immunde.” My heart beat accelerated, the sweat dripping down from my face. The flames began moving faster.
“in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis, et in nomine Jesu Christi Filii ejus.”
“in nomine Dei Patris omnipoentist, et in nomine Jesus Christi Filii ejus.” Fawn continued singing as the record got a bit faster. The smallest candle went out and my hands began to shake.
“Domini et Judicis nostri, et in virtute Spiritus Sancti, ut descedas ab hoc plasmate Dei.”
“Domini et Judicis nostri, et in virtute Spiritus Sancti, ut descedas ab hoc plasmate Dei..” A tear rolls down Fawn’s face and her singing turned more into a whimper. Her eyes opened and they were bloodshot. My skin felt like it was on fire. The record was spinning even faster and my palms were wet with perspiration. The lens of Dr.Flynn’s glasses began to crack. His voice wavered and became louder.
“quod Dominus noster ad templum sanctum suum vocare dignatus est, ut fiat templum Dei vivi et Spiritus Sanctus habitet in eo!”
“quod Dominus… noster ad templum sanctum… suum… vocare dignatus est, ut fiat templum… Dei vivi et Spiritus… Sanctus… habitet in eo!” My head felt like it was splitting apart, chest heaving with heavy breaths. The record rattled on the gramophone, beginning to shake off its base. Only three candles remained. Fawn began screaming and her eyes rolled back into her head. They rolled until only the whites show, then with the sickening sound of tearing sinews, they rolled until they ripped themselves straight from the socket. Blood replaced her tears as she screamed in agony. My hands began to turn black.
“Per eumdem Christum Dominum nostrum!! Quie venturus est dicare vivos et mortuos!! et saeculum per ignem!!” The glass of Dr.Flynn’s lenses shattered, splintering into his eyes. My arms grew black to their shoulders. Fawn’s screaming had reduced to heavy breathing, her head bowed limply, moving back and forth, sprinkling blood on the thick, brown carpet.
“Per eumdem! Christum! Dominum nostrum!!” My throat was beginning to swell and I was completely wet with sweat. My eyes shut tightly.
“Quie venturus est dicare…. vivos et… mortuos!” Every vein in my body pulsated, my legs were tingling and my skin was hotter than any fever. Vomit and bile formed in my throat. I was able to open my eyes. Fawn continued her rocking motion, her white dress completely stained red. Dr. Flynn lay in his chair, his head tilted backwards and his mouth open. Blood trickled from a gash in his neck. The knife on the table could not be seen in the light of the one remaining candle. It was in Fawns right hand. She was holding her eyes in her other hand.
“Et saeculum!!” My blood boiled, the black was all over my body and it was in my sweat, it was dripping onto the floor like oil from an old car. Fawn slowly raised her head, the sockets empty, a grin across her face. She raised her hand with the knife. Unimaginable pain shot through my chest and I screamed.
I woke up screaming.
