Devil at the Vatican (BL)

Chapter 39

The pain of exorcism was unbearable for Elio. He believed, foolishly, that because he held no reaction to holy water and scripture, that pain of exorcism was impossible. But things such as blessed water, prayer, and sacred garments were on the tip of the iceberg for deep exorcism. The tools they began to use felt like pliers on his teeth, yanking and prying until his nerves screamed for death.

Father Felipe handled the bulk of his exorcism, with assistance from two nameless clergymen and an advisor. Felipe was much harsher with him when advisor was whispering in his ear, so Elio dreaded the days he arrived.

Days felt like years. It only took three days for Elio to stop asking about Father Marcel and his recovery. It took seven for him to lose his voice from all the screaming. They demanded the demon's true name. Every time Elio tried to tell them, his mouth would snap shut. Jonah proclaimed that he was not the reason behind this, but Elio knew better than to trust a wicked thing.

At first, Elio rejected Jonah's protections. When the demon told him that the pact had been severed with Marcel, he didn't believe him. But then Father Felipe mentioned it during one of his torture sessions and Elio knew it was true. Still... to accept the help of the demon was to embrace sin itself and he refused... Until the bleedings began.

Then Elio hid away inside himself and allowed Jonah to take over. Jonah seemed to make attempts to speak his name to stop the torment, or to even draw it, but he would then be wracked by seizures. So the torture grew worse.

Jonah bore it while Elio hid, feeling only faint remnants of pain of the powerful relics they used... holy water mixed with traces of ash from Joan of Ark's pyre, preserved finger of St. Ignatius Loyola, and others.

The only pain Elio could not flee was the one that found him in the darkest of the caves of his soul, the violations. When the light went out in the room, Jonah closed Elio's mind to his body, but he could still feel the probes that felt like hellfire entering him. His teeth rattled and scalp felt as though it would blister from his hair being pulled so hard.

An unknown amount of time later, Jonah rested with him inside his soul, leaving his body empty. Elio slept, though Jonah would rise into the body when Father Felipe returned for the sessions.

I think Father Marcel is here, Jonah told him one day. Elio was floating in a black lake down one of the tunnels, watching his happy memories twinkle at him like stars above. He couldn't reach those memories here, but he could remember once being happy. Jonah watched him from the beach of black crystal sand, an old chateau behind him.

"Who's that?" Elio asked.

Your beloved priest. Do you want to see him? He's calling our name now.

"It's better for me to forget him." Elio rolled over and pulled the water over him. It transformed in a blanket, and he was suddenly back in his room at home, smelling bacon and grits. "I'm tired."

Ah, someone else is here now.

"The advisor?" Elio shuddered and pulled the covers back over his head. It transformed back into the lake, and he drifted to the bottom where a waterfall carried him to another tunnel. He ran then, towards the darkest corners of his soul.

There was a spot that was difficult to get to, but it shaded him in these moments. He dove into the tent, an exact replica of the one he shared with Marcel just a few weeks ago. A clay replica of Marcel was there, frozen with open welcoming arms. Elio climbed into the arms of the statue, finding it bitterly cold and hard, and closed his eyes.

"You smell like Marcel," Jonah's voice echoed around Elio. "I haven't seen you before." So this was someone new.

"I brought a special relic for you," the visitor's voice boomed, sticky and sweet like honey. "St. Benedict, the Father of Monks. Do you know of him?"