Exorcism

Chapter 4: The Book of Shadows

Emily’s unease had reached its breaking point. Jack’s erratic behavior, the murmured words in his sleep, and the unsettling aura that seemed to permeate the house were more than she could handle. Deep down, she knew the strange book Jack had found in the basement was connected to everything. She could feel its sinister weight pressing on their lives, though Jack refused to acknowledge it.

On a cloudy afternoon while Jack was out running errands, Emily made her move. Determined to get answers, she descended into the cold, damp basement. The air grew heavier with each step, and the oppressive silence seemed to amplify her heartbeat.

The book sat on the pedestal exactly where Jack had returned it, as if it had been waiting for her. The dark leather cover glistened faintly under the weak light of her phone’s flashlight, and the strange symbols etched into it seemed almost alive, writhing faintly in her peripheral vision.

Emily hesitated, her stomach knotting with dread. Every instinct screamed at her to leave it alone, but she couldn’t. Not anymore. Swallowing her fear, she wrapped the book in an old towel to avoid touching it directly and carried it upstairs, its weight feeling far heavier than it should have been.

---

The next morning, Emily walked into an antiquities shop on the edge of town. The shop was dimly lit, its walls lined with shelves of dusty books, ancient trinkets, and relics from eras long past. A bell jingled softly as she entered, and an elderly man with sharp eyes and a carefully trimmed gray beard emerged from behind the counter.

“Good morning,” the man said, his voice warm but measured. “How can I help you?”

Emily placed the wrapped book on the counter, her hands trembling. “I found this in my house... in the basement. It’s old, and... I think it’s dangerous. I was hoping you could tell me what it is.”

The man raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. Carefully, he unwrapped the towel and froze as the cover was revealed. His expression darkened instantly, and he stepped back as though the book itself were a venomous snake.

“Where did you say you found this?” he asked, his voice low and cautious.

“In the basement of the house we just moved into,” Emily replied. “Why? What is it?”

The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he donned a pair of gloves and cautiously opened the book, flipping through its pages with a mix of fascination and dread. The symbols and illustrations seemed to unnerve him as much as they had unnerved her.

“This,” he finally said, his voice grave, “is no ordinary book. It’s a Liber Tenebris, a Book of Shadows.”

“A Book of Shadows?” Emily echoed, her stomach sinking.

He nodded. “These books are extremely rare, and their origins are steeped in legend. They were said to be created by cults devoted to summoning and serving dark forces. Each one is a ritual book, designed to invoke powerful entities... demons.”

Emily’s breath caught. “Demons? Are you serious?”

“Deadly serious,” the man replied, his eyes locking onto hers. “These books were crafted to guide practitioners through rituals that can summon and bind demonic entities. But they are cursed. The act of using them invites the presence of whatever entity the book is tied to. Judging by the symbology here...” He gestured to an illustration of a grotesque figure with hollow eyes and elongated limbs. “This one is connected to a very old and very powerful demon.”

Emily felt the blood drain from her face. “What happens if someone... uses it? Can it affect someone just by being near it?”

The man hesitated, then nodded slowly. “These books are inherently dangerous, even untouched. They carry a dark aura that can influence the minds of those nearby. It often starts subtly—dreams, whispers, an increasing sense of unease. But if rituals from the book are performed, even unknowingly, the entity’s influence will grow stronger. It will seek a vessel to inhabit, using them as a gateway to this world.”

Emily’s heart pounded. “You mean possession.”

“Yes,” he said gravely. “And from what you’ve told me, I suspect this has already begun.”

Emily felt dizzy, the weight of the revelation crushing her. “What can I do? How do I stop this?”

The man frowned, his expression thoughtful but concerned. “The best course of action would be to destroy the book. But it’s not that simple. Books like these are protected by the very forces they summon. Burning it, shredding it—it may not work, or it could worsen the situation.”

“What do you mean, worsen?” Emily asked, panic rising in her voice.

“The demon may perceive the attempt as an attack. It could retaliate, amplifying its hold on whoever it’s already influencing.”

Emily’s hands clenched into fists. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

The man closed the book carefully and rewrapped it in the towel, sliding it back toward her. “Take it back, but don’t use it. Don’t open it again. Keep it locked away somewhere secure. And most importantly, get help—someone with experience in dealing with these things. An exorcist, perhaps.”

Emily’s throat tightened. “An exorcist? That’s real?”

He nodded solemnly. “More real than you’d like to believe. Whatever you do, don’t try to handle this on your own. This is far beyond anything ordinary.”

Emily left the shop in a daze, the book feeling even heavier in her arms. As she drove home, her mind raced with fear and doubt. Destroying the book wasn’t an option, but leaving it in the house with Jack felt like inviting disaster.

When she pulled into the driveway, the house loomed before her, its friendly exterior now seeming to mask something far darker. She hesitated before going inside, clutching the book tightly.

As she stepped through the door, she noticed Jack sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the wall. His fingers drummed absently on the surface, and his lips moved silently, forming words she couldn’t hear.

Emily’s chest tightened. She had to act fast—before it was too late.