PROOF PART III

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Ward crossed around the table and knocked three times on a closed door. After a moment the door slid open, and two large men, both obese and balding, probably brothers, shuffled in the room. They carried a woman between them. Her arms were propped over their shoulders.

She was their sister, Arthur guessed. She had a small belly. A beer belly, by the looks of it. Her hair was long and stringy. It desperately needed to be washed. She wore a tank top and shorts. Her head bounced in front of her, as if she didn't have the strength to keep it up. Her eyes were open, but only halfway. Arthur couldn't tell if the woman was conscious or not. Obviously not fully, or she wouldn't have to be carried. The men helped the woman sit in a chair at the front of the room. Then, they took straps and bound her wrists and ankles to the chair. Fernanda looked to Arthur, concern filling her pure, green eyes. Arthur had no comfort to give her. He was simply a spectator, watching the show.

As soon as the woman as sufficiently strapped in, the two large men took their leave, disappearing through the door they used to enter. The woman's head hung down in front of her, her hair covering her face.

Ward circled the chair, then turned to address the group. "This is Melanie. She's 27 years old, and has a history of alcoholism. During my many interviews with her and her family, I learned that she was sexually abused by her uncles as a young child, a trauma which has greatly affected her adult life. She was a prostitute for a number of years, has no formal education, and none of you have ever seen her before in your life."

Disgust wormed its way across Fernanda's wonderful features. Even when she was disgusted, she was gorgeous, Arthur thought to himself, how many people can say that?

"I don't feel comfortable with this," Fernanda said with a furrowed brow.

"Nor should you. It's not a comfortable matter. If you really want to leave, Ms. Victor, you're welcome to do so."

Fernanda remained in her seat.

Ross clapped his hands together "What now? She looks half dead."

"She's been through a lot," Ward said, wearily, as if he were taking upon himself some of the woman's burden. "She'll liven up shortly. The entity that is possessing Melanie doesn't respond to that name. It considers itself to be a different entity entirely from her personality." Ward took his seat at the table by his notes. "So without further ado, let's begin our session." He faced the woman in the chair. Cleared his throat. "Demon, can you hear me?"

They waited for what felt like minutes. Arthur's heart was pounding in his chest. Finally, the woman in the chair raised her head. Hair covered her face, and she shook her head to clear it out of the way of her eyes. Her eyes were open now. And she looked scared, as she gazed around at each of them. When her eyes fell upon Arthur, he felt a chill run through him. Like he was doing something wrong.

"Who are you?" The woman's face crinkled with emotion, tears rising to her eyes "How did I get here? Why am I tied to this chair?"

Her voice rose to a shrill note. Hysteria. She was panicking, and rightly so. Arthur was now on edge. He wanted to leave. He wanted this cruel trick to be over. Was this academics? Torturing a poor woman? Tying a woman to a chair. How did he get here? Why didn't he do anything? But he knew it was only beginning.

"What is your name?" Ward asked. He was the only one in the room who appeared unfazed.

"Melanie..." the woman said. "My name is Melanie Jones." She spoke with a thick, southern accent.

"No it isn't. Don't lie to me. We know what you really are, and we've brought you here to prove it to the world."

"Prove it to the world? LET ME OUT OF HERE!" The woman shook in her chair, trying to break free of her bonds. But they held strong. The candles in the room flickered. A growing dread began to grow in Arthur's chest. He couldn't tell what it was. But it was as if all hope had been sucked from the universe. His mind was screaming at him to get out of there, to leave the room. But his body refused to listen.

Fernanda slammed her fist on the table "Ward, this is enough! Let the poor woman go!"

"No!" Ward shouted "I did not work for months only to be cheated now. This woman is not what she appears to be. She is possessed. I've seen it."

The woman was crying now. Thick tears streaming down her cheek. "I'll do anything you want. Just please, turn the camera off."

"Demons are liars," Ward said through gritted teeth. "She wants to make you think it's not real. That's the devil's greatest trick. But there are ways to coerce it into coming out. It wants to be in control. To show its power. To boast."

Fernanda stood up "I've had enough of this. Ward, you're insane." She moved to the end of the table. Toward the video camera.

"No!" Ward shouted "Leave it on!"

Arthur watched the woman's face. Her eyes turned to Arthur. For a split second, he saw her face change. She licked her lips, a hint of lustful menace behind her dark eyes. It was only a flash, and then the woman was in tears again. But Arthur saw it. And it chilled him to the bone.

Arthur was positioned at the end of the table, the closest to the camera. Fernanda reached out to turn the camera off, but Arthur found himself stopping her. He took her by the wrist. "Wait." He said "Just wait."

Fernanda yanked her wrist out of his grip. She looked at him with anger, and he could tell she wanted to hit him. But he didn't care. He had seen that look that woman had given him. And it terrified him. Fernanda turned in a huff and returned to her seat. Glaring at Arthur the whole way.

Ward removed something from his pocket. A wooden cross. He held in in front of him, like the priests do in the movies. He slowly inched closer to the woman. At first, there was no reaction. But as the cross grew closer to the woman's face, Arthur could see she was in pain.

"Get that thing away from me!" She yelled "I'll have you arrested!"

"Show yourself. Show yourself for what you truly are." Ward thrust the cross against the woman's skin.

A strange wind seemed to blow through the room. Arthur looked to the windows. They were shut. So where was it coming from? The candles flickered, but the light dimmed in the room. As if a shadow had fallen over them, like the sun did when it went behind a cloud. The dread in Arthur's chest filled him, making him sweat. He suddenly felt like a child. It's something he couldn't explain. He couldn't explain what was happening in front of him, and this was his body's natural reaction.

Suddenly, the woman's expression changed. She smiled now. A wicked, insidious smile. And when she spoke, it was almost a totally different voice. There was no accent. It was high and shrill, a mocking tone.

"Good to see you again, Professor. Did you miss me?"

CONTINUED IN NEXT PART...

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