The Journal of Father Thomas Michaels

[SJIngram]

EXCERPT FROM THE JOURNAL OF FATHER THOMAS MICHAELS

7 DAYS SUMMER 2013

AUGUST 7th 2006

It’s been a very long day, as I sit here with a shot glass and cheap brand of local firewater, I look out from my balcony onto a crowded square, people coming and going about their daily business, blissfully unaware of the dark seed that lies among them. I hate these first few days with a passion, finding our feet, playing Tom and Jerry with the natives.

We don’t know who or what we are dealing with yet, but one thing is certain – It’s hot! Trying to get a breath in that room is damn near impossible, wearing us out even before the show has begun. I know you are going to read this, so won’t get too hung up on complaining, after all I’m not writing for Trip Advisor!

I met her today for the first time. Maria Lopez, a beautiful girl. I was sad. It upsets me to restrain them, but I know it’s for my own protection. Sometimes I wonder whether we have it all wrong? She looks like she couldn’t break a sweat let alone nearly break a priest’s neck!

Maria was very polite and well spoken, her comprehension of English is certainly better than my hack-job of Spanish. Father Vestor and I met with her immediate family in Maria’s presence this morning, and discussed the case to date. During our interview, she did not display any of the symptoms identified in the previous reports, staying quiet and nodding correctly in all the right places. I know she understood us, and the gravity of the position she was in, the fear in her eyes was a dead giveaway and argued viciously with the fake (yet exquisite) smile.

Following lunch at a local eatery selected by the family, we headed off to the house. To me, pre-ritual lunch always feels like the last meal for the condemned. We did explain to Maria that this was probably the last thing she would eat for some time, and that it was really important for her to take in as much nourishment. She pecked like a bird, but who can blame her? I never attribute today’s lack of appetite to Demonic possession, more the fact that subjects are petrified as to where the next few hours and days will take them. The lunch is always a laboured task before a ritual begins, uncomfortable small talk, all of us desperate, trying our best to evade the real reason why we are here, pretending to be a couple of lost tourists. I understand fully the necessity of ensuring subjects eat before being hooked up, so we can start monitoring her intake from zero hour, but still there must be an easier way?

The house is a rundown three storey plastered affair in the Iztacalco borough of the City. Looking at it before we went it sent shivers down my spine. Who finds these places? Location scouts for Horror Movies? It was boarded-up from the outside, all the way up. It would shut life out, and keep whatever we unearth in. Ideal yet un-holy – which is a real contradiction for what we are about to do.

We were greeted by a short little Gringo and two local nuns, who had already been assigned to us prior to our arrival. Sister Bethany and Sister Cruz both seem really nice, and I have every faith that they will remain professional and vigilant at all times throughout. The Gringo is also very accommodating, having sorted everything we had identified on the itinerary. He has set the room up perfectly as per our requests, and sourced all the materials on the list we had sent though the week before. The only drawback was the lack of any quality air-conditioning. With the windows boarded, the house baked from the outside, leaving us roasting slowly within.

At about 3pm we allowed Maria and her family to have some ‘alone’ time together (well at least under Father Vestor’s watchful eye), as we would need to get her settled in before dark, and prepare for tomorrow. To be honest, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. I think they were relieved that something may actually be getting done, after the crap they have had to put up with. Her father even cracked a joke or two (even though I could tell he was shit scared and trying to cover this up). A few tears were shed as they always are. When it came time for them to leave, Father Vestor remained with Maria, whilst Sister Bethany and I showed them out. I tried my best to re-assure them that no matter what happens, I will do my best for their Daughter and Sister, and that she was now in the safest hands possible. I had already explained to them over lunch that once the rite of exorcism had begun, they would not be allowed to visit their daughter, nor would we be feeding them with constant updates. They understood that it could potentially open up a nasty can of worms and let whatever was in Maria infest them all. They had already signed the waiver to contact before then, but I just needed to make sure they understood the reasons why, and that we weren’t being unreasonable.

Just before 5pm, we finally settled Maria onto the bed, making sure she was as comfortable as she could be. She asked for ‘Ave Maria’ to be played during the preparation time. Gringo has already got this sorted. I did laugh quietly as he produced the shittiest of record players, it was as if he wanted to add to the atmosphere with his crackling rendition. They must have CD’s players in Mexico? I know MP3 is asking a little too much.

She changed into her nightdress and laid down. We made sure she had a glass of water with hydrolytes, noting the time, 5:04pm. The nuns performed their customary final checks, and administered the appropriate injections, before hooking her up to the saline drips, and sedating her for the night.

She looked at me, and I held her hand as she squeezed it tight. She tried to hold on as long as possible, but as the sedation took over her grip lessened and her beautiful, scared eyes began to glaze, before the lids dropped and she was asleep. Her finger’s uncurled around mine, and I lay her hand gently on the bed next to her. It was Father Vestor that fitted her restraints when she had passed-out, these were double checked by Sister Cruz.

The reason why I am recording this moment in such fine detail is as a direct response to some concerns I have. I felt something at that moment, when she left, something I haven’t felt in a very long time. I felt fear. I felt hopelessness.

It wasn’t the trepidation of the chase as I have always found that healthy and motivating. This anxiety was saturated by an over-whelming despair. As I write this journal I still can’t shake the unnerving notion that no matter what I do over the coming days, the outcome is pre-determined. I cannot enter this rite with any doubt of my own ability or I will be putting her soul at risk, I know that, and will be having a quiet word with myself before re-entering tomorrow, after all I am sure we all go through this from time to time.

What scares me the most about today was that in her eyes I also saw something else. I saw a kindred spirit. She stared at me as she fell asleep with faith and adoration, a profound love. This has left me thinking this evening, as I look out onto the locals below, and the sun bathes everyone in its last coat of protective gold, I am the right person for this job? I am human and not a superhero. I am no better or different, I am flawed. I have loved, and felt what it has been like to be loved. Love can be the cancer of the soul. Without love there is no fear of the dark. Without feeling love there is no fear of loss. She looked at me with unconditional love, and for a moment I reciprocated.

When that sun goes down, and leaves these folks at the mercy of the dark who is out there for them? When the love in someone’s eyes dissolves into a narcoleptic glaze who will bring that love back?

It’s now 7.45pm, and as Maria enters her last (albeit enforced), dreamless sleep, I wonder how many tequilas it will take to numb my dreams tonight?

[Dara]

.....Looking forward to reading on.The scene has been set.

[SJIngram]

Thanks Dara. I will be uploading the next few entries in the coming weeks :)

[SJIngram]

THE JOURNAL OF FATHER MICHAELS
August 8th 2006

I woke around 3am, and had to close the shutters to my windows, it seems that the locals are a little ‘nocturnal’. That left me baking like a loaf as I had to sacrifice my breeze for silence. Either way it meant that I didn’t sleep well last night.

I met Father Vestor (who I shall now refer to as Father V) for a spot of breakfast in the square and planned the day’s activity. The allocation of roles always reminds me of the old ‘Good Cop’ and ‘Bad Cop’ routines from 50’s gangster movies. I suppose we’re not far off the mark.

I called ahead to check on Maria. She had a good night’s sleep, and remained sedated. Neither of the Nun’s had any cause for concern, and Gringo had even cooked them dinner. I know what I do isn’t everyone’s idea of a fun job, and that I must have a screw loose somewhere to be able to walk in to a room willing to take on Hell, but I always tip my hat to the support staff. I couldn’t stay twenty-four seven. Granted, they work in shifts, but from the beginning to the very end, they never leave the building. That takes a lot more guts than I could ever muster. I don’t think it’s a question of faith just preservation of one’s sanity.

We rolled up on the house at around 1030am, had a debrief (Gringo made a mean cup of ‘Rocket Fuel’) and we were good to go.

When we walked into Maria’s room this morning I already sensed it. There had been a real shift in the atmosphere since yesterday evening. Even though the Sister’s had no concerns about the night’s activity, I could smell the energy. I guess its years’ worth of exposure. Paramedics and Cops report they can smell death, and that smell sticks to them way beyond the discovery of a corpse – the same can be said for the possessed. It’s not a smell per se, just a thickness in the air; I use the analogy of smell as it suffocates the nostrils. I can’t really describe it any other way.

There was no physical difference in her appearance, she hadn’t even moved from the position we had left her in. I wondered what I would see in her eyes this morning when we woke her. I guess I was a little apprehensive after yesterday. That had knocked me for six a little, and I was worried that if whatever was inside her caught on then I would be putting everyone at risk.

At around midday, the Sister’s administered the adrenaline, and she woke.

I watched her, as her eyes searched around the room lazily, trying to fix on something recognisable, still drugged by the enforced sleep. When she focused I was quietly relieved to see that she was still present. Years of fieldwork should have quelled my anxiety, as I know better than most that a Demon will never present itself so early in the proceedings. It wasn’t the Demon I was afraid of, they’re a dime a dozen. Me, however, sometimes I can be my own worst enemy.

Father V kicked the proceedings off immediately, delivering blessings to all of us in the room. Gringo is not allowed in during the ceremony, banished to the kitchen downstairs. We can call him as and when, but he cannot step over the threshold. For his own safety we won’t let him.

Father V blessed Maria last, anointing her with the sign of the cross on her forehead with Holy Water. Sometimes, I half expect the possessed’s skin to boil and blister as the water sizzles away like acid. I always laugh at Hollywood’s portrayal of the rite. I think I actually want that to happen one-day so we can cut to the chase and stop with all the pomp and ceremony. It certainly would make this job a lot easier if they gave themselves up so easily.

I shan’t bore you with the next few hours, as you are already very familiar with the due process, but not a lot happened. There was no supernatural activity, no temperature fluctuations, nothing. This Demon is good, so good even by 5pm I started to wonder whether the Church was the appropriate agency for Maria, and that maybe her Doctor should have pushed more for a place in rehab.

It was at 6.58pm precisely (I know because I was responsible for the contemporaneous logs) that we had a minor breakthrough. Father V had just finished delivering Psalm 53 and went to anoint Maria when she involuntarily pulled against the cuffs restraining her wrists to the bed. It was a sudden movement, so violent that the leather straps cut into her. It wasn’t repeated, and was over as quickly as it had begun. Father V ordered that that was enough for today, and the Sister’s promptly sedated her ready for day three.

We ate in the kitchen this evening. I think Gringo was happy as he had his chance to shine. His culinary skills are sharp, a perfect complement to his hospitality. Myself, Father V and both Sister’s deliberated on what we had just witnessed, and all were in agreement that we could record the incident as a legitimate paranormal response to the invocation of Christ.

I got back to my room shortly after 9pm, and after last night’s antics, and today’s arduous wait I am exhausted. It’s taken every last drop of energy to even write this journal.

My personal reflections for the day – well, despite initial concerns over my feelings for Maria, I think I held it together quite well. I didn’t have an active role and happily allowed Father V to take the lead as discussed over breakfast. It hurt me to see her lash out the way she did because it wasn’t her. I remained resolute despite an over-whelming urge to grab her and hold her. She’ll be left with the bruised, cut wrists and the physical pain when she next wakes, completely oblivious to how ‘it’ reacted to our goading.

It’s not just Maria, I feel for all the subjects I have worked with. Our cure puts their bodies under extreme pressure. They may have no recollection of what had happened, but can be sometimes left with permanent disabilities. As I write, my mind wanders around the globe adding up all the casualties of this ancient war, the broken limbs, the disfigurements, the sheer physical pain caused by those unfortunate to be considered collateral damage.

If Demons were tangible, the gloves would be off, and I would be the first in line to kick their ass. Maybe that’ll go some way to dealing with the guilt I sometimes feel?

[SJIngram]

THE JOURNAL OF FATHER THOMAS MICAHEALS
AUGUST 9TH 2006

It’s 3:26am, and I am writing this before I go out and deal with the telephone call.

I met Maria last night. The dream was so vivid, the lucidity still hurts my head now, I need to write it down before it fades. She was sitting up on the bed where she is currently lying. I sat down on a chair beside her, and held her hand once again, free from the ugly restraints. She looked into my eyes and shared with me the poison within. As I cusped her hands and wrists, I felt the torn, moist flesh torturing my fingertips. She asked me why are we doing this to her? I sounded out three simple, yet destructive words, “I Love You”. She smiled. It smiled. At that moment I knew I had been stupid and already fallen foul of the beast, as I tried to let go, she tightened her grip with agonising strength.

It was the call from Sister Cruz that broke me out of the nightmare. She sounded calm when she said, “It’s begun”. I knew that. It had already found me and I fear may have already broken me. I am so angry with myself right now for being so stupid. It knows, I told It. Maybe I have become too comfortable with what I do, too anesthetised, too complacent? I knew how I felt as soon as I saw her, I can’t help that, but maybe I should have backed away and given the job to someone else? I just hope I haven’t fucked it up for everyone.

I’ll take a while getting to the house this morning. Maybe have a wonder along the shore for a little while. The support staff are more than capable of dealing with the initial stages of the showing, and I need some time to gather my thoughts and re-group before I even think about dealing with what is to come. Anyway It isn’t going anywhere fast. It can wait until I am ready.

It is now 10:36pm, and I am resuming the journal from today’s earlier entry,

I finally arrived at the house around 6:30am. Father V had got there about an hour before and met me in the kitchen before I went up. He told me that Maria had been specifically calling for me, and that when he had tried to talk to her, she had gotten abusive, even to the point where she has spat at him. He wanted to know what had happened. He isn’t stupid and has done this for way more years than I. I told him about the dream, and he just nodded at me. We discussed whether I was an appropriate agent to carry out this assignment, and rather foolishly (I think) I bluffed my way back in. I don’t think I could leave now even if I wanted to.

During the night, just before Sister Cruz called, staff were alerted to a profound wailing from Maria’s room. At first they assumed that the sedation may have worn off, and that the pain from her wrists was causing her upset. When they went in she was still fast asleep, and the noise had ceased. There is a strong possibility that the drugs may have not been sufficient, causing her to slip in and out of her coma; however it was reported that there were no signs of physical distress, i.e. dishevelled bed sheets, bedside furniture knocked. They left and returned downstairs. Apparently no sooner than they had re-filled their coffee cups, the howling started again. This time there was a touch more urgency to their return.

Maria was still asleep, and the room quiet. It was the sulphurous, stagnant smell that hit them square on that aroused further suspicion. Having looked at the logs, they checked whether she had soiled herself to negate the sources of the smell. The windows were tightly shut and sealed, as were any vents to the room. Unable to trace its root, they recorded this as a legitimate paranormal event, and then, as protocol dictates, alerted myself and Father V.

When they left the room again, the banshee returned. This time they did not go back in, as they are not allowed to re-enter following an event without the guidance of the managing agent, in this case either myself or Father V.

When Father V arrived, he too witnessed the wailing. I feel for the Nun’s and Gringo, I really do –it must have really grated them like a broken car alarm or a faulty tap, helpless to turn it off. All in all in went on for around 2 and a half hours, only stopping when Father V poked his head around the door a couple of times to check on her.

As you well know, once the showing starts all teams must be double crewed when dealing with the possessed, so unfortunately Father V had to wait until I arrived. Apparently, it was about 15 minutes or so before I got there that the noise became more tangible and she started calling me out directly, hence Father v’s interrogation. It knew I was coming.

It was decided following our conversation that Father V would once again take the lead today, and I act as back-up. We went in just after 8am and performed the Litany of the Saints. Maria and It remained quiet throughout.

We broke around 10am for another coffee and re-group. Gringo had prepared some excellent churros. If you don’t know, they’re very similar to a donut. Deep fried sweet batter coated in a powdery sugar and cinnamon dusting. Anyway, I digress (but they did hit the spot and give us the energy rush we needed until lunch).

At 1030am Father V led us through Psalm 53, and I read the verses from John 1:1-14. I was about a third of the way through my reading when she began to mutter something. I paused and we listened. She paused too. I resumed. She resumed. Later we would all concur that she was uttering, “I Love You” over and over in a breathless mantra. Understandably this upset me a little as I knew it was meant for me. I didn’t let on to the Sister’s, but Father V knew. The Gringo knew it too as he has overheard our conversation earlier that morning. I know that this is just Its way of trying to unsettle me, falter me, mock me. To be honest it was a pathetic and predictable display of power. I had half expected it, and that is why, although mildly upsetting, it didn’t really phase me. Maybe I am a little more resolute after all, especially in light of my dream faux-pas?

We broke for lunch at 1pm and resumed again at 2pm.

The afternoon proved to be a little more taxing than the morning session. The first distinct change we noticed following lunch was the room temperature in the immediate vicinity of the bed. It had to have dropped a good 15 degrees from the rest of the room, confirmed by our monitoring equipment. Again, customary investigation could find no natural cause for such a fluctuation. Following the Litany, I sat down on the chair beside her and once again read, this time from Mark 16:15-18 and Luke 10:17-20.

I have taken the liberty of reviewing the audio footage from this reading, and although you are provided with this, I wanted to cover it with a brief transcript. I find listening to it back, and writing it down to be quite therapeutic as it allows me time to digest it fully.

Me: At that time Jesus said to His disciples: "Go into the whole world and preach the Gospel to all creation. (Maria gurgles something incoherent) He that believes and is baptized will be saved; he that does not believe will be condemned-

Maria: -I love you -

Me: -And in the way of proofs of their claims, the following will accompany those who believe: in my name they will drive out demons; they will speak in new tongues;(Maria giggles) they will take up serpents in their hands, and if they drink something deadly, it will not hurt them; they will lay their hands on the sick, and these will recover.

(I Pause for a moment – shuffling from Father V)

Maria: Make love to me Mikey?

Me: Excuse me?

Father V: Thomas, focus.

Me: At that time the seventy-two returned in high spirits. "Master," they said-

Maria: -Be my master Mikey?

Me: -Even the demons are subject to us because we use your name!" (Maria laughs) "Yes," He said to them, "I was watching Satan fall like lightning that flashes from heaven-

Maria: -C’mon Mikey, play with me-

Me: -But mind: it is I that have given you the power to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and break the dominion of the enemy everywhere; nothing at all can injure you-

Maria: (starts singing) –Don’t go breakin’ my heart –

Me: -Just the same, do not rejoice in the fact that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice in the fact that your names are engraved in heaven.

Maria: Enough already just come and fuck me will you?

Father V: Thomas, allow me to take over for a while. You go and sit over there, you have done well.

Maria: Yes Mikey, you did yourself proud, I just wish I could cum. Loosen one of these straps sweetheart, let me touch myself. It looks like you two could do with a good show.

I retired to the back, sitting over by the dresser at the far end of the room for the remainder of the session. She continued a relentless tirade of sexual suggestions toward me, and if I’m honest (and I know you want me to be) what scared me most about what had happened is that I found this erotic. It knows that I like her, feeding off feelings I simply can’t help, and twisting them into something so much darker and sordid. The vulture picked away at me, gnawing at little chunks, searching for its prize; however my soul remained intact, my faith resolute.

[SJIngram]

The abusive sexual torrent and Its efforts to waver my resolution by appealing to a mankind’s most primeval urges leads me to believe that that the demon we are dealing with is either an Incubus or Succubus. This would narrow down the field somewhat to a number of key players.

My initial thoughts are that we are dealing with an Incubus demon, as the early reports from Maria’s case file cited numerous accounts of wounding akin to that of violently abused rape victims. Previous dealings with Succubus demons have been a lot more subtle, as there modus operandi tends to psychological rather than physical. The vaginal / anal wounding would also suggest that the demon has already exercised its raw physical power over her in a stereotypically male fashion.

The human feelings I have are natural, and, if she were human then I may have reciprocated. I have to disassociate what I see in front of me with these emotions, and constantly remind myself that it is the beast within that wants me, not her. It wants me as its toy. It wants me to go rouge and compromise our group. I won’t let It as I am far stronger than It believes. I don’t believe It wants me sexually, and is using Maria as a tool to contaminate me.

For now, for the good of my soul and sanity, for the greater nobility of the group, and for the redemption of the innocent, beautiful girl that is at the mercy of the Devil, I am me. I am Father Thomas Michaels, exorcist extraordinaire and someone who doesn’t take nicely to losing!

[SJIngram]

THE JOURNAL OF FATHER THOMAS MICHEALS
AUGUST 10TH 2006

Another long day doing what we do best or in this case could do better! When I joined the seminary, not once did I think international travel, expenses paid, beautiful women and fine wines would be part of my job description!

It’s just a shame that the travel takes us to the far ends of the earth and puts us in the shittiest of roach-ridden motels, the money doesn’t even begin to cover the outgoings, the beautiful women happen to be violently possessed, and the fine wines are supplemented with an acidic brew of God-knows-what!

I am a tired and, if you hadn’t guessed, really pissed off this evening. Father V and I shared a couple of ‘words’ this afternoon, as I found his approach today to be a little ‘unyielding’ shall we say. I appreciate that is the very nature of the rite, but sometimes the vicious pace takes its toll on the victim. Maria got hurt, and I don’t want that.

We arrived together at 9am precisely and had our morning briefing in the courtyard over coffee and a fresh batch of churros. It was so hot today, we didn’t want to spend anymore time than was absolutely necessary cooped up indoors. The inhibiting heat exhausted us even before we began to work on the entity causing a riot in the upstairs bedroom.

The crying had been inexorable last night. After we shut operations down yesterday evening, apparently Maria continuously called out to the Sisters, asking for me, asking for mercy. They did not go in at all last night, as it would have been too dangerous. I couldn’t do it, but then that’s why I’m living the low-life in this palatial cesspit four blocks away.
We went in at 10.12am according to the logs kept by Sister Bethany. I start to lose all notion of time as these ceremonies progress.

Maria was sitting up in the bed, her arms extended, still restrained at the wrists to the posts either side. It watched us as we set-up, her eyes were darker, inquisitive and malicious, which led to believe that she had gone for the interim. The bed sheets had been kicked down to the bottom of the mattress, and It had writhed around so much that her night gown now rode up over her waist, revealing her naked beneath.

As Father V and I walked around the foot of the bed, It parted her thighs into a wide extension, displaying her open vagina for us all to see. Sister Cruz rushed over to attempt to cover her up, but Maria began thrashing around quite violently, preventing her from getting near.

As we began the Litany, she calmed, and Sister Bethany was able to cover her. We now felt it appropriate to administer leg restraints. This was done swiftly and surprisingly smoothly without issue by the Nun’s. Both I and Father V double checked the restraints.

I sat at the far end of the room again, not wishing to get too close today. Not because I was fearful, but felt that a little more physical distance between us may be appropriate. I read Luke 11:14-22. It didn’t take her eyes off me throughout, shifting her legs up and down, trying to dislodge the cuffs fitted, and give me a site of her genitalia. As I concluded, she spat down the bed towards me, instructing me to lick it up.

Father V led us in prayer. Once again I have taken the liberty of transcribing this piece of audio for you.

Father V: Almighty Lord, Word of God the Father, Jesus Christ, God and Lord of all creation; (Maria laughs) who gave to your holy apostles the power to tramp underfoot serpents and scorpions; who along with the other mandates to work miracles was pleased to grant them the authority to say: "Depart, you devils!-

Maria: -Here we go again-

Father V: - and by whose might Satan was made to fall from heaven like lightning; I humbly call on your holy name in fear-

Maria: -You know nothing of fear you pervert-

Father V: - And trembling-

Maria: -I saw your knees tremble when you saw her cunt. You’re weak, you wanted nothing more than to stick your cock in her you pathetic old man. I bet that’s the first bit of pussy you’ve seen in a while, other than the young nuns in your seminary of course-

(The above was quite hard to transcribe as Father V continued his prayer over the demons ramblings)

Father V: -Asking that you grant me, your unworthy servant, pardon for all my sins-

Maria: -You know a lot about sinning don’t you Vestor? I know because I was there when you forced those nuns to masturbate you-

Father V: -Steadfast faith, and the power - supported by your mighty arm - to confront with confidence and resolution this cruel demon. I ask this through you, Jesus Christ, our Lord and God, who are coming to judge both the living and the dead and the world by fire.

Maria: You’re so right Vestor. ‘He’ is coming. ‘He’ will judge you. You’re no better than me you patronising old man! When ‘He’ is finished with you and casts you to one side like he does when ‘He’ is bored, me and you can finish this little dialogue on my turf. I can show you what you should have done with those little Penguin whores.

Father V: SILENCE DEMON!

Maria: Cumming on their faces, making them clean your old, withered, stagnant cock was lame. I can show you how to really pleasure women. I’m sure Maria will tell you how she wants it when she’s good and ready-

Me: SILENCE DEMON

I admit I was a little rattled at this point, and my order was more a personal reaction than a professional command.

(Father V then formed the sign of the cross on himself, and then Maria’s forehead – she squealed)

Maria: Get the fuck off me you old coot!

This was the first time that anointment of the cross had caused a physical reaction. She pulled against all of the restraints, tearing into her skin, causing the white bed clothes to stain crimson. Her head also arched back, and turned away from Father V. The violent movement caused me grievous concern, as I have no wish for her to sustain further injury. I stood up and tugged at Father V’s cassock.

Me: Maybe we should take a break?

Father V: We need to continue, focus.

Father V laid the end of his stole on her neck and his right hand on her forehead. I took a step back. Inside I was raging, really pissed off that Father V did not take a moment to pause and see what pressure we were putting her body under. He was blinded by the task at hand, and momentarily forgot that we also have the welfare of a human being at stake too. I didn’t say anything, as any public dissidence in the ranks would have been leapt on by It, and have ended the whole sorry affair then and there. Satan one – God Nil.

Father V: See the cross of the Lord; begone, you hostile powers!

All: The stem of David, the lion of Juda's tribe has conquered.

Father V: Lord, heed my prayer.

All: And let my cry be heard by you.

Maria: This is the fun part coming up right now. You seen what I can do already Father’s? Touch me and I’ll hurt the bitch.

Father V: The Lord be with you.

Maria: Get your fucking hand off me.

All: May He also be with you.

Father V: Let us pray.God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Maria: I am giving you all the opportunity to walk away right now. Turn your back on us. You really don’t want to play with me.

Father V: I appeal to your holy name, humbly begging your kindness, that you graciously grant me help against this and every unclean spirit now tormenting this creature of yours; through Christ our Lord.

All: Amen.

Maria bellowed. The coarseness must have torn at her voice box, as that noise could not have been made by a woman. The vocal range simply wouldn’t permit it. The reverberations of the roar shook me to the very core. Its deafening pitch dislodged dust and plaster into the air, choking us, and promptly halting the proceedings. We all retreated downstairs for some water and air, leaving It cackling hideously on the bed. It was a timely lunch break, and gave me the opportunity to express my grave concerns to Father V.

His response was (as usual) for me to stay focused, and remember that Maria is an unfortunate innocent caught up in God’s war. He stated that we cannot be held accountable for the physical damage that is done to her throughout this time. He even waved the damn disclaimer paperwork in front of me, counting the signatures.

Accountability? I hate that term. We are so (excuse the pun) hell-bent on covering our asses in such a litigious world that once we have a couple of signatures on a sheet, we believe that gives us carte-blanche to do whatever we want? BULLSHIT! What about personal accountability? What about the night-time hours where you are left with your conscience as a prosecuting attorney? Who will save you from yourself, and convince you what you have done is for the good of the cause? I can’t re-iterate enough that we are human, and this is something that Father V has issues with. In this stupid conflict, it is so easy to forget that humans are involved too… It’s not all angels and demons!

[SJIngram]

We re-grouped around 2.30pm, and the afternoon was pretty much the same as the morning. Litany, prayers, reading, shouting, swearing. One again I had to watch, biting my tongue as Father V attacked the demon, and It attacked Maria. I could see bruising appear freely under her skin as It tore her muscles in vain, trying to free itself from the leather binds. The crunching of her joints, grounding furiously together as she writhed pierced me. I can still hear the unholy echoes now as I write.

It has been three days since we began, and over the last 24 hours, it has escalated very quickly, beyond what I think we were all prepared for. I haven’t seen a demon with this power before, one that isn’t afraid of us. It may seem a little rattled, but that’s only because we have it tied to the bed. I think we pissed it off rather than struck the fear of God into it.

I wonder what tomorrow will bring? Whatever happens, I want Maria back, and will not let the Leviathan have her at any cost. Father V is doing a good job at crippling her, and there is nothing I can do or say about it… It’s all legit, and I don’t think the Church will back up any allegations if I wish to lodge a grievance at this stage. Disclaimers remember??