THE AGONY IN HIS MIDDLE was so great that Malachi desperately wanted to succumb to it. There was little keeping his body from splitting in two as he crumpled to the ground in a bloody mess. He could feel his middle unraveling over the floor, but there was one thing keeping his eyes open. One thing keeping his mind alive through the pain, even though he should have shut down by now.
Abel.
The room was illuminated by white light, swallowing up the shadows the monster created. This light did not come from the fixtures hanging from the ceiling, in fact, they did nothing to brighten the room anymore. They were useless against the glow of holy power that radiated from the young priest, one man shining like a league of angels.
Long white hair spilled down his back, from which six white wings had sprouted, the tips dusted in blood. His usual two eyes had become dozens across his face, all unblinking, all staring down the creature in rage.
He spoke, but Malachi was too disoriented to understand. That, or Abel spoke a language beyond his mortal comprehension. Abel extended a hand, placing it against the demon's forehead--the demon who possessed no body and could not be touched. The room grew even brighter, bright enough that Malachi still saw white when he closed his eyes, and something in his mind settled.
He felt pure once again.
✞
"Father, I'm going to help you, okay? I'm going to get you help. You're going to be okay. Just keep breathing. Keep breathing."
Keep breathing.
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Dead Moon Chapel
FantasyA young priest makes a deal with a sexy demon to reject his faith and lose his purity in order to save himself from being sacrificed to a looming, all-powerful God. * * * All that young priest Abel Atherton wants is to become an exorcist, but that d...
