The Conjuring 2 - Born of Blood

III

It had been a few days since the incident with the 'doctor', but the weight in Alexandra's chest hadn't lifted. Her nightmares had gotten worse-sometimes she would jolt awake in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, gasping, swearing she could feel cold hands closing around her throat. Other nights, she didn't even sleep at all. Tonight was one of the latter.

Barefoot and wrapped in a thick cardigan that did little to soothe the chill in her bones, Alexandra padded softly into the kitchen, drawn by the dim glow of the overhead light and the unmistakable scent of turpentine.

She found Ed sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over a canvas, his brush working slowly, almost reverently. There was a quiet intensity in the air that made her pause for a moment in the doorway, just watching him. The scrape of the brush against canvas was the only sound.

"Hey, what are you doing up?" she asked softly, her voice rough from disuse. She walked in slowly and eased into the chair opposite him, arms folded over her stomach protectively as though holding herself together.

"Ah, couldn't sleep. You?" Ed answered with a shrug, glancing around the canvas at her.

"Oh, I've been having trouble sleeping lately. Nightmares," Alexandra admitted, the corner of her mouth twitching in a tired smile. Her voice was thin, brittle-too many nights spent chasing rest and being met only with darkness.

"Wanna talk about it?" Ed offered, gentle and patient as always.

She shook her head, too quickly, then smiled again as if to cover the sudden shift in her demeanor. "It's alright. What are you painting?"

He looked at the canvas like it had been haunting him too. "Oh, just this thing I saw in my dream. Couldn't get it out of my head so I thought painting it might help," he said, his brow furrowed in confusion, like he still didn't understand why it lingered.

Alexandra stood and crossed the room with a light smile, but something in her stomach began to twist the closer she got. Her body moved of its own accord, her instincts lagging just a beat behind. She stepped behind him and looked down at the canvas.

Her heart dropped.

The breath whooshed out of her lungs as her smile vanished. Her eyes locked onto the face staring up at her from the painting-the face that had tormented her dreams, that had watched her in every vision since Amityville. The face of the demon. The nun.

Her hands started to tremble.

She turned around before she could stop herself, retreating like a cornered animal into the kitchen. She leaned against the counter, gripping the edge so tightly her knuckles went white. Her shoulders rose and fell with each uneven breath as she tried to calm herself. Her mind was reeling-how could he have seen it too? Why now? What did it mean?

Footsteps behind her. She didn't need to look up to know it was Lorraine. One glance at the painting and her face fell into that same haunted expression. Lorraine's reaction was immediate-stiff posture, pale complexion, eyes wide with a recognition that cut deeper than fear.

"Hey, I know I'm no Picasso, but I didn't think I was that bad," Ed said as he leaned against the doorframe, trying to inject some levity into the room.

Neither woman laughed. Alexandra turned to him slowly, eyes glassy, her body trembling slightly. The weight of the truth was too much to speak, so it leaked out through her tears instead.

"What? Hey, hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Ed asked, the joking tone fading quickly as he saw both of their faces, instantly stepping forward to cup Alexandra's face in his hands, thumbs brushing her tears away as she sniffled.