Devil at the Vatican (BL)

Chapter 7

Voices stirred Elio awake. He wasn't sure how long he'd been spiraling in that endless darkness. His vision blurred as his eyelids peeped open.

He was laying down on a bed, large and twice as comfortable as his own with plush pillows and silk sheets. Moving slightly, he found his arms and legs strapped down by tight leather cuffs, pulling his body into an X-shape. Panic arose immediately as his heart raced.

Blinking rapidly, two men came into in view at the foot of his bed. One was a very tall black man wearing a butler's uniform, his face like stone. The other was a withered old white man with white thin hair and piercing green eyes. He dressed as a nobleman.

Both stared at Elio as he writhed under the constraints.

The room itself was luxurious with a large wooden bed with a pulled canopy and golden sheets and a decadent fireplace. Every piece of furniture looked custom made, with the carved accents on the chair legs and bed posts matching the crown molding.

"What is this?" Elio roared.

His voice remained like that of an animal, though his mind was clear. He could also feel his blackened eyes and veined face burn in frustration.

Elio had control over himself, so why wasn't his physical form normal like before?

The old man offered a small smile. "I suppose this isn't how either of us wanted to meet."

"You're Oliver Ellsworth," Elio gasped. "You're my father."

Oliver nodded. "So close all these years, yet so far."

"I came here because..."

"I know," Oliver interrupted. "You're here to get help. I already sent word to your mother that you're here and you're safe."

Elio writhed, glancing at the cuffs binding him. "Why am I chained up?"

"Precautions, sir," the tall butler said.

Oliver placed a hand on the butler's arm. "This is my top servant Cecil. He will be attending to you. Edith, the head-maid, will be seeing to your every need as well. She's off cooking your supper."

Furrowing his brow, Elio took a moment to breathe. He didn't understand. Oliver Ellsworth was nothing like he anticipated. The man's wrinkled face gazed at him kindly, almost apologetically. It sickened Elio to a degree.

"Someone threw something at me," Elio murmured, his memories flashing before his eyes.

"Holy water," Cecil told him. Cecil's voice was powerful and deep. He had a preacher's voice. "It subdued you. Apologies if it hurt, young master. It was necessary in your former state."

Young master?

"How did you know to do that?" Elio accused.

Oliver walked around the bed, coming up to Elio's side. He rested a hand on the steel chain attached to Elio's left cuff. Elio instinctively snatched his arm and the chain rattled, but did not budge.

He didn't want Oliver to touch him.

"The evil inside you is strong, Elio. It stinks. I could smell it from when you were at the front gate. Your pre-occupation with my young guard Marvin gave us enough time to prepare."

More memories flashed before Elio's eyes.

Marvin. What he'd done to him.

Elio thrashed and cried aloud. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

Oliver looked away, silent.

Elio struggled with the restraints. That inhuman strength returned to him with a fury. His body flung against the limitation of his limbs. Elio felt his body rise up from the bed, almost on its own, and thrash back down. He screamed.

The entire bed trembled, then stopped as suddenly as it started.

He was enraged again, but unsure why. He couldn't control it. He gnashed his teeth and glared at Oliver, who didn't seem shocked in the least at this strange happening.

Fear thickened at the back of Elio's throat and tears fell from his eyes. Yet that rage was immovable.

"You know something, don't you?" Elio asked. "You're my father. You knew about me all this time and never came for me, not once. You owe me answers. What's happening to me?"

"You're possessed," Oliver said.

Elio's heart sank. Possessed. The vilest evil had infected him somehow. Hearing Oliver say it this straightforwardly, he knew it was right.

Oliver continued, "I can't help you, but I've sent for someone who can."

"Who?"

"Father Marcellinus. He's an old friend and the best at what he does. He's going to be here within the next few days."

"The best at what he does?" Elio repeated. "What does he do?"

Oliver took a breath. "Exorcisms. You're going to receive an exorcism, my boy."

The idea seemed absurd. Elio went to church every Sunday and praised the Lord every waking minute. Besides, he wasn't even Catholic.

"Exorcisms aren't real," Elio said. "Where is Pastor Robinson? Have him come pray over me. He will drive this evil from me."

"Your pastor is not equipped for this type of evil. This is very real, Elio. You've already drained the souls of two people in two days. At this rate, you will kill again soon."

"I haven't drained any souls," Elio snapped. "I haven't killed anyone! You're lying. I would never!"

"I am not, son."

"I am not your fucking son!" Elio growled. "How could I have drained souls?"

"Your friends," Oliver snapped. He seemed angry now. Had Elio hurt his feelings?

"Marvin and Andries, sir," Cecil added.

Oliver nodded absently.

Elio cowered at the sound of their names.

Oliver continued, "Andries died a few hours ago, Elio. Marvin is expected to follow him. He's catatonic now, a living corpse."

"I would never do that! I couldn't have!" Despite his anger, Elio wept. His chest heaved and he struggled to speak. Tears burned his eyes. Andries had died. He only really got to know him for one night and now he'd never see him again. And yes, he hated Marvin for how he treated him, but he didn't want him to die. He didn't want anyone to die.

"Whatever it is inside you did that, Elio. But believe me, son, I will drive it from you. I will abolish it, even if it kills you. Father Marcel will save your soul."

Suddenly weak, Elio collapsed into the bed. Death would have been a relief at this point. Andries was dead. Losing his virginity killed a beautiful young man.

Oliver left the room with Cecil close behind. Elio laid in the bed for seemingly hours. His demonic energy remained calmed, but he could still feel it throbbing beneath his skin.

A knock on the door startled him. Elio lifted his head and saw a short, full-figured older woman in a maid outfit poke her head into the room.

"I'm Edith," she said, entering the room and closing the door behind her. She carried a tray with a plate of food on it.

Her round, happy face brightened the room. She sauntered over to Elio's side and placed the tray on the bed.

She smiled at him. "You must be our possessed little guest."

"Get away from me, bitch," Elio snapped. He didn't feel like being smiled at by some clueless maid.

"Easy now, young master Elio." She laughed softly. "I'm not allowed to kill you, but I will surely cut your little manhood off if you fuck with me."

He gulped.

"Want to eat now? I made tomato soup with a side of parsnip fritters and sweet potatoes."

He nodded, obedient.