Dead Moon Chapel

four

WHEN ABEL WAS TWELVE, HIS mother was possessed by a demon. It was a formidable one at that, but it was not one that weapons could destroy. Most cases of possession were like that, demons without a solid form to kill and eliminate from existence entirely. They held a different kind of power, one that attacked the mind and spirit of its host. It forced them into actions of impurity to poison their hearts, so that Lucifer might reap their souls when their bodies gave out. Though, possession required a preexisting weakness of faith. Any who allowed a devil into their vessel was already tainted.

She was overtaken and compelled to violence. After devouring his father, Abel was set to be the next victim. But the Lord answered his desperate pleas and three exorcists arrived right in time to cast the spirit out of his mother's body. When she saw what she had done, she was driven to madness and taken far away where Abel would never see her again. The exorcists took him back to the Chapel, where he met Father Malachi. Seeing his sorry state, he took Abel in, and the rest was history.

And now, it was Abel's turn to be tested, to see if he was worthy of becoming one of the exorcists who had been his savior that day. He wanted to save others' lives the way they had saved his. The wicked spirits that exorcists were responsible for were far more sinister than the deadly beasts who crawled in the shadows with no intentions other than slaughter. For when the beasts killed, they did not doom the souls of their victims to eternal damnation.

"Do you really think I can do it?" Abel asked, adjusting the cuffs on his wrists in front of a mirror. The cuffs were attached to glowing whips on either wrist, which appeared at will. He was more used to his blade, but he'd trained with these enough to want to bring them, a form of extra protection.

Father Malachi stood behind him, watching him through his reflection. "As long as you remember what I spent all these years teaching you, and you listen to the Holy Spirit, I know you'll be successful."

These exorcism trials were not simulated the way the training was. A clergy member would accompany him, but it was up to him to complete the mission of impossible stakes. It was the ultimate test, and Abel was losing his confidence the more he stared at his own small frame in the mirror.

"This isn't a matter of physical ability," Malachi said as if he knew what he was thinking. At Abel's confused look, Malachi amended, "You're very easy to read."

Abel blushed. "You've mentioned that."

"And yet you love to act surprised every time."

"I certainly don't have the physical talent to fight a creature this dangerous," he said. "But I'm not confident in my spiritual ability, either. And that's what really matters."

Malachi turned him around, prompting him to look up at him. "Brother Atherton, do you trust me?"

Abel gulped. "I do, Father."

"Then I need you to put some faith in yourself."

Abel wanted to say something cruel. He wanted to say that it was hard to have faith in himself when it was Malachi who had spent all his life telling him what he was doing wrong. But he clamped his mouth shut and nodded instead. Malachi was satisfied, and he released his arms where he'd been holding onto them.

"Very good. Now, we'd best get going before this demoness kills anyone else, yes?"

"Sorry, we?"

Malachi stared blankly at him. "Yes. I'm going with you, Abel."

"I thought I would be assigned someone else."

"Do you not trust my abilities?"

"No, I do, with my life. It's just-doesn't that violate some sort of code? I thought there was a rule against going with someone close to you."