That night I slept for just one hour before the bell shook me to life. And before that I had prayed like I only had one day to live. From 9 p.m. to 3:30 a.m.
I prayed vigorously, disregarding a creeping fatigue, pushing ๐๐ข๐ช๐ญ ๐๐ข๐ณ๐บ through persisting yawning and leaden eyes. But I did not mind the lack of sleep, and that one hour felt enough, for this was the first time in a month that I felt hopeful.
In fact I was so hopeful I had finally approached Valeria. And what a relief it was talking to her, apologizing to her for the hurtful words I had told her. For all I knew, it was Asmodeus's black energy that had turned my tongue foul. But now I felt like myself again, more or less, and was ready to apologize to the whole world.
Val forgave me, of course, didn't even blink, hugged me tightly and demanded to never go through childish crap again. "Come on, bitch, we're adults. We gotta stick together," she laughed. "Especially when we're trying to leave this dump."
We were back on good terms, ready to support each other through thick and thin. But I did not tell her about Asmodeus and what was about to go down in the chapel that upcoming night, as the voice of the fiend still alarmed when I thought about it. ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ถ๐ง๐ง๐ฆ๐ณ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ช๐ด ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ท๐ช๐ต๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐ฆ. ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ถ๐ง๐ง๐ฆ๐ณ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ช๐ด ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ท๐ช๐ต๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐ฆ. ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ถ๐ง๐ง๐ฆ๐ณ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ช๐ด ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ท๐ช๐ต๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐ฆ!
I waited eagerly for twilight, and then for the nightfall. My itching got worse then, maybe because I was highly stressed about the outcome of the event. "I hope you burn in you hell," I muttered as I tiptoed across the dark halls, through the grand silence and many cells of sleeping bodies, and outside towards the chapel, clutching the ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ก๐๐๐๐ค in my hands. "God is with me, god damn it! God is good!"
I entered the building.
William Dene was already there, standing near the glimmering altar in his immaculate garment, in the holy, candlelit environment, polishing his instruments and sprinkling nearby objects with holy water to low humming chants.
He sensed me because he halted momentarily, yet he did not look at me but resumed his preparations. His hand only beckoned me to approach. I did. I opened the book on the right page and handed it to him.
"Thank you, father," I murmured.
"It is my duty. Hand me that cross over there," said the archbishop with authority. He sounded stern and looked the part, highly concentrated on his task. I found it soothing. After all, we needed all the concentration in the world to send that demon back into his smoldering shit hole.
I gave him the cross and just stood there for a while, at intervals observing the things his hands were doing and the expressions on his face. I thought he was in his late fifties, though if that was true, he looked good for his age, and not that intimidating as I thought him to be when I first saw him. And yet the air of superiority never faded. I still felt like a complete minority next to his presence, a pawn next to a king.
With all the observation, I did not even notice the pig that was sitting in the dim corner, at the end of the front pew. It sat there silently, with ears down and head drooping, did not move one bit as if it was already dead, or practicing to be dead. I asked no questions about it, just averted my gaze, feeling sorry for the poor thing.
"Can I help you somehow?"
The archbishop, who still wouldn't look at me, nodded his head yes. "Go fetch me three wafers while I am arranging the altar. Also, a bowl of fresh water and a towel. Be careful not to be seen."
"I'll be right back."
By the time I brought the needed items, the number of candles had increased, and with it increased the heat in the chapel. Especially bright was the altar, adorned with many gilded candelabras on which twinkled dozens of iridescent flames.
The pig now was transferred closer to William Dene who chanted some complicated prayer over its back while crossing it again and again. In his right hand: bible. In his left: the cross. I placed the bowl with water, the towel and the wafers on the pew.
"We may begin," he uttered, still as gravely, eyes sharp on the animal beneath him.
"I'm ready when you are, father."
"Take the bowl. Come forth," he ordered.
I did.
"Place your left hand on the Bible."
I did.
"Dip your other hand into the holy water and make a sign of cross."
I did.
"Grab that cross over there and bring it to your heart."
I did.
"Now, repeat after me. Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil."
"Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devilโฆ"
He spoke and I repeated like his echo, praying for it to work while I prayed to saints.
"โฆthy mercy, Lord, descend on us."
"โฆdescend on us."
๐๐ญ๐ฆ๐ข๐ด๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฌ, I begged.
"We drive you from us, whoever you may be. Unclean spirit, satanic power, infernal invader."
"We drive you from us," I muttered, "whoever you may be. Unclean spirit, satanic power, infernal invader."
The archbishop circled around the pig, once, twice, thrice, sprinkled it some more. "With God's power be driven into this beast, Asmodeus. In the name of Christ."
"With God's power be driven into this beast, Asmodeus. In the name of Christ." I repeated steely.
"Who suffered for our salvation. Descended into hell. Rose again the third day from the dead, and ascended into heaven."
"SufferedโฆDescendedโฆRoseโฆ.Ascendedโฆ"
"Be gone, fiend! Be gone!"
"Be gone!" I barked at the pig.
"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit be gone!" Archbishop nearly roared, swaying the cross as if fending himself off flies.
"Be gone!"
"Amen." Concluded William Dene.
"Amen." I exhaled with finality.
There was an indefinite interval of silence. There was the pig, watching me with its clueless piggish eyes. There was the archbishop, pulling out something shiny out of his vestment and dipping it into the bowl of holy water. And then there was meโฆfor some reason spacing out into my earlier confession.
๐๐ฆ ๐ด๐ข๐ช๐ฅ, ๐๐ฐ๐ฅ ๐ช๐ด ๐จ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฅ, ๐๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ท๐ช๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ. I replayed. ๐๐ฆ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐จ๐ช๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ. ๐๐ฆ ๐ด๐ข๐ช๐ฅ, ๐๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ท๐ช๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ. ๐๐ถ๐ต ๐ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต ๐จ๐ช๐ท๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฎ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆ. ๐๐ณ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ ๐?
"โฆand complete it."
I winced back to present. "What, I'm sorry?"
"You must now kill the animal to complete the rite. Otherwise it is not finished." The archbishop stretched a silver dagger of a decent size, blade slick with dripping water.
"Iโฆmust ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต? ๐๐ช๐ญ๐ญ it? Butโbutโbutโ" I threw a pitiful glance at the innocent snout. "I can't!"
"Unfortunately, we have no other choice. The one who conjures a spirit must send it back. Death is the only route to the underworld."
I watched the pig sitting under my feet with its swollen belly looking exactly like a little dumbfounded kid. My heart began to race, head began to spin.
For an instant I shut down.
I do not remember how the knife ended up in my hand, but I do remember feeling how deathly cold its handle was, and how nausea rose to my throat almost instantly.
I took a deep useless breath. It was too hot inside to breathe for tranquility. I needed fresh air.
No. First, I had to finish what I'd started.
No. I couldn't kill the poor creature.
But what about Samson and Ronan? I killed them.
No! The demon killed them. I would neverโ
"You must hurry, Genevieve, while our prayers still hold the fiend inside."
I gawked at the preposterously innocent looking pig.
"Yes, I, I justโ" I halted, spaced out and in once more. "Father," I uttered, averting my eyes from the animal to the man next to me. "Forgive me, butโฆI never gave you my name."
He was staring at me now, for the first time right into my eyes, scrutinized me with unreadable face.
Yet I thought I'd caught a shadow of a smile.
There was a micro drop of my heart, a feeling of climbing a staircase with a foot suddenly missing a step. I almost did not want to believe what was forming in my mind. Almost did not want to say it.
"You're not father William." Another micro drop of my heart, another missing step.
The man kept staring, not a word escaping his sealed crooked mouth. And another micro drop. I was falling down the staircase now.
"Who am I looking at?" Deep down I already knew the answer.
The man's eyes glistened when he opened his mouth to say, "You may call me ๐๐ด๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ถ๐ด."
If it wasn't for the altar top, I would surely collapse. It was a miracle I didn't faint after hearing that name. I wanted it all to be a joke, or just another one of my nightmares. Anything but the truth.
"This isn't funny," I whispered, my trembling arm barely supporting my weight from falling. "Father William!"
"You are absolutely right, sugar, it isn't. It's ๐ฉ๐ช๐ญ๐ข๐ณ๐ช๐ฐ๐ถ๐ด," he sneered. "Especially your physiognomy with those dumb eyeballs."
With gaping jaw I goggled at him, appalled. Then breathed out, "๐๐ฐ๐ธ?" For nothing better could enter my petrified head.
"Holy titles do not make sinners holy, just like your habit does not make you a nun."
I refused to believe it. How could I? Before me stood a grown-ass man of 50+. And not just any man but a high figure of the Catholic hierarchy! There was no way in hellโ
The knife was yanked from my hand. I staggered back. The archbishop โ Asmodeus, the demon, the evil, the monster โ kicked the pig with his foot so that the animal, too, staggered to a squeak and rolled on its side.
It all happened fast, the fatal slash of William Dene's hand, the pig's surprised snort and a painful yelp, and its ripped belly glowing with oozing blood. I was rooted to the spot by undiluted horror of the scene. Animated were only my ceaseless tears.
The archbishop crouched next to his kill. "Let's see now," he stretched nonchalantly, rolling up one sleeve.
His hand submerged deep into the animal's belly, swirled around to a nasty slimy sound. When he pulled out a knot of intestines, I puked, and puked, and puked until it felt as if I puked all of mine.
"As expected. The pig has more guts than you." He threw the organs down, rose to a full height and spat on the bloody carcass with contempt.
I wiped my mouth with a shaking sleeve. "Whโฆh'atโฆ"
"Look at you. You are pathetic," he snorted, taking his time to close the distance between us. "How can a weakling like you even begin to think of slaughtering what is undying when you can't raise your hand at the clumsy hog?" A wicked ๐๐-๐๐-๐๐ reverberated through the chapel's walls. "Or are you more inclined to sacrifice men over pigs? Because I ๐ธ๐ช๐ญ๐ญ take this body. And you ๐ธ๐ช๐ญ๐ญ be blamed for not keeping your mouth shut. What do you say? Ready to take on yet another sin upon a soul that is hardly yours?"
"Goโฆto fucking hell!" I croaked through bile-burning throat and immediately felt blood-wet fingers squeezing it to a further burn.
"๐ ๐๐ hell, you brainless, gutless swine."
We glared into each other's eyes with so much enmity that I could have sworn I saw a light bolt flash between them. His grip became tighter, but I no longer resisted. Resistance was useless, that I could see.
"Oh yes, I ๐ธ๐ช๐ญ๐ญ take him. And in due time I ๐ธ๐ช๐ญ๐ญ take you. But!" A wicked smile. "Before another Holy Joe bites the dust, let's make it fun, for the three of us sinners. After all, this charade has been nothing but sheer pleasure. Might as well end the act on a high ecclesiastical note. Sounds like a plan, sugar?"
I attempted to shake my head no but couldn't move it one bit, face statically purple under the pressure of William Dene's grip.
"What was that?" He mocked. I writhed. His fingers eased abruptly. I clutched at my neck, gasping for air. "Speak."
"Fuck. You." I wheezed.
He pushed me towards the communion stone. "You read my mind!" His nasty mirth filled the space, his hands began working swiftly around the complexity of his clothing.
๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ณ๐ค๐ฉ๐ฃ๐ช๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฑ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐จ.
I froze precisely how he yanked me, crooked and shocked at what I was witnessing. His shadow stretched behind him. It was not human but something big and beastly, something that ate all the scarce light around it, something that made me look away and never glance its way again.
He was half naked when he move on to tearing off my habit like it was a gift wrapper, with playful briskness. In moments I was fully naked, body pressed against the altar, blistered skin glistening with anxious sweat and candle heat.
I was mortified, even more so when he lifted me by the hips, fingers digging into sores, sat me on top of the altar and fitted himself between my legs like a puzzle piece. The archbishop and meโฆ๐๐ต ๐ฉ๐ข๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ข ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ฎ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ. ๐๐ข๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฃ๐ฆ, I pleaded.
Where are you when I need you? My heart wept. Why aren't you answering to my prayers? Don't you see how sorry I am, how much I repent? Why do you laugh at me so? Aren't you the forgiver of wickedness? The one who remember sins ๐ฏ๐ฐ ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฆ?
My rage for God grew bigger the longer William Dene's eyes traced my bare modesty and hands stroked my curves. Hot tears flooded my face.
"๐๐ฐ๐ธ can he possibly let you do thisโฆ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ข๐บ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ด๐ฐ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ณ๐ฅ?" I whispered, too humiliated to even talk. "How can he possibly let you walk into ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด home?"
The gentle hands that caressed the sores on my aching thighs formed fists that banged hard against the altar, each landing at my side to a wave of a deep echo. I winced.
"๐๐ฎ home!" He roared. "Ignorant cunt! Do you not know who builds these shrines?"
I gaped at him, transfixed, with even sprinting tears halting midway.
"Sinners like you! To have dens to sin in! Look me in the eyes, dirtbag!"
His face now barely resembled William Dene's for how dark and furious it had become. It was not the archbishop, I had to remind myself again and again, staring by force into the wrath of inhumanly black eyes.
"This sanctum is ๐ฎ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฆ to the very last pebble, to the dimmest candle. And only because of pests like you who had come and turned it to filthy dump that I have no desire to call it mine no more. You parasites adorn it with glittering gold, raise stone idols on pedestals, paint celestial battles in vivid color, with scarcely a century-old hand rewrite eon-long history, claiming ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ as the enemy's fane. And then you exorcise me with unreachable prayers and shiny trinkets. Attempt to drive out what is meant to dwell in there! Ha! Fools!"
He threw his head back in a mad laughter. His eyes changed when they met mine a moment later; they glowed โ fire from the very bottom of hell that he was.
"Oh, Eveโฆ" he exhaled my name slowly, like one exhales cigarette smoke. "Eve, Eve. Eve...Oh, he ๐ธ๐ช๐ญ๐ญ let me in. He has no authority here no matter the number of prayers you chant to him, or the amount of candles you burn in his name. This spectacle of faith is nothing but a child's play."
"You are poison. And every poison has its own antidote. So do you, demon." I retorted.
My response amused him. "A little advice for you, nun. Next time practice on ridding the sky of the sun before coming for me."
"I will keep that in mind." I snarled.
"Do that for me."
His caressing resumed, hands exploring places that turned my spirit black. I went numb, body rigid, lips pressed together, eyes frozen on nothing in particular, some space beyond father William.
Anything to escape the present.
"What's the matter, sugar?" He smirked, aging breast pressing to mine, nose nearly touching nose, as he went on in a low voice, "Withering flesh is not up to your liking?" His closeness brought back sickness.
"Don't. Please. I willโthrow up."
"By all means. And do it all over me," he encouraged. "After all, you have summoned the vilest of all sins."
"๐๐ฆ๐ด๐ถ๐ดโ" I gagged into my hand, trying hard to not actually erupt.
"Say it one more time and I ๐ธ๐ช๐ญ๐ญ rip your tongue out." His tonality hardened. His arms interlaced around my back to a full repulsive embrace, his cheek grazing mine, his hot breath blowing in my ear. "My slaves moan ๐ฎ๐บ name, or no name at all. So shall you moan it for my pleasure."
"Never," I growled, "youโฆfuckingโฆmonster."
He smiled. I felt those repulsive, elderly lips stretch delightfully against my face. Nausea rose up immediately; I swallowed it down, feeling faint. My throbbing, leaden forehead โ despite how much I loathed the contract โ slammed against William Dene's shoulder for a lack of a better support, where it stayed for some time.
"See, eons of experience speak otherwise: a man's 'never' ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ lasts."
I boiled with fury in his arms, listening to his unruffled mockeries. ๐๐ง ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ญ๐บ ๐ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ง๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ด๐ฐ ๐ด๐ช๐ค๐ฌ, ๐ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐จ๐ฉ๐ต, ๐'๐ฅ ๐ด๐ข๐บ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐ข๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ, ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฏ.
"In other words, sweetness," he continued, "monster, beauty, young, old, man, womanโฆall trivialities. In a gulf of desire you will not care in what shape or form I have you. So long as I come, Genevieve. So long as you moan. For my pleasure, and yours."
"Disgusting. Youโ" I had to pause. Nausea. "โyou disgust me. How can you say those thingsโฆwith such certaintyโฆ"
"It is written in the stars." He replied so calmly it made me beyond furious. I was the one writing my own history. I was the one dictating my own fate! Not some god forsaken stars!
"Fuck your stars." I spat.
He laughed, his body vibrated softly against mine. "You will call upon my name soon enough, like all the others ๐ข๐ญ๐ธ๐ข๐บ๐ด do."
"Never. ๐๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ!" I hissed, my body rigidly hostile against his. "I said ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ will I call for you!"
"As all the stars are my witnesses, you will. And when you do, do not forget to thank me. You hear me? Do not. Forget. To ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐ฎ๐ฆ."
I shook my head in denial. "As all of heaven are my witnesses, Asmodeus," I squeezed out, pushing vomit in simultaneously, "I willโฆfind a wayโฆtoโฆstop you."
Followed a contemptuous chuckle.
"In due time, little hero. Now, lie down on the Lord's table. Let me fuck the heaven out of you."
Once the excruciating hour of rape had passed, careless William Dene left me sprawled on the altar where I lay motionless for a long while, conjuring my torpid body to stir when it simply couldn't.
The strength came in slow, small bits, and when I had gathered enough of it, I cleaned Asmodeus's bloody mess. I had no tears left to cry, no voice to scream, no energy to move, so how I moved will always remain a mystery.
๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ช๐ด ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ด๐ข๐บ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ข ๐จ๐ฐ๐ฅ? He said once.
I should have knownโฆ He knew what was going to happen, that bastard. That's why he sent me for a bowl of water and a towel. So that I could clean 'his' mess afterwards. And, humiliated, I cleaned.
I cleaned the altar, scrubbed dried blood off the floor, dragged the pig's foul carcass out and behind the chapel where I dug its shallow grave and attempted its orthodox funeral. It was already in the cold soil when I mumbled ๐'๐ฎ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ณ๐ณ๐บ, ๐'๐ฎ ๐ด๐ฐ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ณ๐ณ๐บ, ๐'๐ฎ ๐ด๐ฐ, ๐ด๐ฐ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ณ๐ณ๐บ, as if it could hear me. I imagined it could; it made me feel less shitty.
Then I trailed back into the monastery, had a long violent shower with tar soap and harsh scrubbing, and, desensitized of all emotion, went straight back to that chapel to Vigils, and later to Midday prayer, and then to Vespers, and to Compline. I prayed hard for William Dene's soul. For my soul was clearlyโฆhardly mine.