Author Games: Salem

Task Four: The Exorcism - Male Entries

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Joseph Carlyle - The Mayor

It seemed as if God was laughing at a cruel joke.

The glorious, insane plan Joseph had hatched that would lead to the downfall of Luca had been reversed. With no finesse, no planning, no thought. All it took was him speaking first.

“Witch!” Luca had cried.

And everyone was on him in moments. No matter that he had slipped in blood and was covered in blood. No matter that he was the Mayor and had kept them all safe.

Possessed. That seemed to be the word of the day. Possessed.

After that, people were crowding around him and everything was a blur. Nothing he said was payed any heed. He could see his niece in the crowd.

“Joana! Please! You know I'm innocent!” he cried out, little pride left.

Joana simply shook her head and moved to out of his sight.

He was tied down in a bed to “keep him from harming any one else.” A priest was called from a neighboring town.

Joseph screamed and cried but no one listened. “I'm not, I'm not,” he kept muttering, his mouth dry, his throat hoarse. Fear pulsed through him. Dehydration and exhaustion played tricks on his head. Delirium clouded his mind.

“I'm not, I’m not.”

“You are! Devil! Sinner! Demon!”

Repeated over and over until he began to doubt. Was he? Was he a demon? Certainly a sinner. Was he possessed? People who were possessed didn't remember doing things, right? Or did they? How would he know? Was he possessed? He must be. Was that why everyone around him had died?

The priest appeared. Cold water – holy water? - was thrown on him, the iciness of it causing him to cry out, almost in pain. The priest began chanting. Someone was waving incense.

The room spun, the voices blurred. Joseph couldn't breathe for a moment, then two. Everything became fuzzy, blurred, out of focus. Then everything came back in sharp relief.

The noise around him was muted, unclear. But there was one voice, one sound that stood out sharply. When he saw what it was, he recoiled, trying to get away desperately.

It was an ugly, misshapen thing, all curled in on itself and a bloody red. Unbidden, the image of the sister he once almost had came into mind. Torn from this world long before her time, it hit Joseph that this was his child. Possibly his child. Lillian's child.

Fear chilled his very soul.

“Oh, look, the Lord Mayor, fallen so far,” it cooed. In Lillian's voice. “So high, so mighty. You stood so tall, knew so much. And now your subjects have turned on you. Now you're nothing. You're lower than the nothing you came from. So pathetic. You couldn't even father a child without not knowing if it's your or another's. Your daughter wasn't. Lillian's child probably wasn't. You've left nothing on this Earth. And you will die with nothing.”

All of his fears, laid bare. “No!” he choked out. He had everything. He was the Mayor of this town. He was above all of this. He had a child. He had two!

“Poor little Joseph. Always wanting to be so much more than you are. Did you enjoy the little taste you got? I hope you did. Now the truth can be that much more cruel.” The things smiled, its sightless eyes gleaming. Did it even have eyes? He couldn't tell. It was getting harder to breathe. No, no, he had everything, he was still the top. He thrashed against his bindings, trying to get away. No.