chapter 1

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Saturday, Sept. 19, 1987

John was wandering through the house. He ran a hand against the orange-colored walls as he walked up to the second floor, trying to stay balanced as his legs threatened to give out under his weight. He needed to find Amy. He needed to complete the exorcism. For Father Allred; for Mr. and Mrs. Martin. As he finally reached the lounge room on the second floor, John glanced around. He hoped to find the Martins, but had no such luck.

"Mr. Martin?" The priest called, voice shaking, "Anyone?"

No one. He's all alone.

He notices that the door leading to the attic was open. He went inside, forcing himself to traverse another flight of stairs. When he reached the top, he trudged down the short hallway and into the room.

John stopped just inside the doorway, wincing upon seeing Amy. She was alone, facing the priest. Blood coated her hands and drenched the front of her black and white dress. Her dark hair covered most of her face, but what John could see of it, one of her eyes shone through the shadows as a white dot. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm his erratic heartbeat, and spoke.

"Amy! Thank God, I found you!" He said, giving a wary smile, "Let's go back to the basement."

Amy seemed to growl, but she didn't move. John gulped.

"Amy, please. You need to get better." He insisted.

"DID MEREDITH GET BETTER?" She -- or ratter, the demon -- spat, "SHE DIDN'T, DID SHE? YOU COULDN'T SAVE HER. NON SERVABIS VIRGINEM, SACERDOS."

John was taken aback. Amy tilted her head to the side, as if waiting for the priest to provide an answer. He reached into his pocket, fishing around for Father Allred's crucifix.

"In the name of the Lord, this ends now." He said.

Despite his confident tone, John was utterly terrified. He was all alone, on his first exorcism, with a demon that refused to leave this poor girl alone. The demon laughed a distorted laugh through Amy.

"OH, ALL BY YOURSELF?" It asked mockingly, "GO AHEAD. POINT YOUR LITTLE STICK AT ME."

John hesitated. He looked back down the corridor.

"F-Father Allred?" He called, fear in his voice, "Mr. Martin?"

"NO ONE CAN HELP YOU, PRIEST. YOU'RE ALL ALONE." The demon snarled.

John looked back at Amy. She still stared at him -- judgingly, mockingly -- and he sighed. The priest raised his mentor's crucifix out of his pocket, pointed it at the girl, and...

She ran straight at him.

That's when he woke up. John's eyes snapped open, sitting up quickly and kicking the sheets off his body. He breathed heavily, hands clutching the bedsheets next to him. His gaze darted around, finding nothing but his belongings, and someone sleeping in the bed next to him. He didn't focus on them; he focused on relaxing himself. He listened to his breathing, felt his heart pounding in his ribcage, and felt his whole body shake.

Something stirred next to him. John's gaze snapped down to it. A woman looked up at him through tired green eyes, messy golden hair cascading down her back. It was his wife, Molly. She looked concerned.

"John..." she muttered, resting a gentle hand on his, "are you okay?"

Anxiety crawled up John's back as he struggled to answer. Should he be honest? No, she'd tell Dr. Spinel, and he'd be sent back there. Maybe he should just lie? But she'd know, and their relationship has been strained enough as it is.

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