a familiar exorcism

7/27/2019 A Familiar Exorcism

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A Familiar Exorcismby: PSilva

White sheets twisted around his arms and legs, tightlyholding him against the wooden chair. The house's temperature haddropped near zero. His rotten breath fogged the living room. TheDrakkar's large mansion seemed like a lost diamond amidst rocks.His parents could not only afford one but numerous of them. "Ding,dong," shouted the doorbell. His nose could already sense the holywater. Martha rushed downstairs and opened the door. A mandressed in black walked in and followed her to the living room. Thechair began to shake furiously. Blood traveled quickly through his

strained arms and legs. He banged his head against the back of thechair.Exactly a month ago, mid September when the sun blazed

the northern hemisphere, Damien sat bored at home. He watchedtelevision, and played with his expensive toys, which lived in theplayroom on the third floor of his house. Being an only son wasextremely hard on Damien. Even with an entire room filled withToys'R'us products, he was not happy. Martha, his middle-agedmother would not let him associate with the poverty-strickenneighbors. Damien could, on the tip of his fingers, count the amount

of friends he had.Martha loved to pet Damien's curls as she bathed the eight year old. Every night she sat beside his bed and read him a bedtimestory and when Damien fell asleep, she kissed him goodnight.Damien's father, John, on the other hand was never present toexperience the sugarcoated moments Martha created throughout the day. He worked in Seattle and only got to take the nine hour tripon the weekends to visit his family. Martha did not mind hisdistance; as long as the money kept coming, she was more thansupportive.

Damien wondered about the tall steel gate of the house,face down, rusting his hands against the shinning metal hoping toone day cross it and be free from his mother's claws. Suddenly asmall rock banged against the gate. Damien looked up in surprise. Aboy stood in front of him. Damien right away saw the opportunityand sprung into action.

"What's your name?" he asked."My name is Luis," he said while gazing at the tall house."My name is Damien, do you want to play?"Luis looked around and noted the street was empty."Sure."Damien asked the servant to open the gate. The servant

did not argue and silently carried out his wishes."Never let strangers enter this house!" Martha would

scream at Damien.She hated the town yet John never wanted to move for it

belonged to his great grandfather.Luis was a meatless child, pure bones who only took baths

once a week. Damien avoided his dirty appearance, bathed or not, hewas desperate for a friend. Luis's mind burst in excitement; hecouldn't believe the size of the playroom, which was bigger than hisown house. There were many varieties of toys from stuffed animalsto pin-pong tables. They played for hours until Martha arrivedhome. She had taken five hours to complete the grocery shoppingand she had taken four servants to help her carry the merchandise.The second she witnessed the strange pair of cheap Havaianasresting on the 500 dollar "welcome" rug, her faced turned red inanger. She asked the servants whom they belonged to and they didnot hesitate to answer.

"Damien!" She screamed from the first floor.Her voice carried out strongly all the way to the third

floor. Damien knew he was in trouble. He ran downstairs, pushingLuis in front of him.

"Nice meeting you!" said Luis shyly towards Martha.Martha examined the boy closely. She did not reply. She

called Damien to the kitchen."What were you thinking?" she shouted.
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"I'm tired of listening to you!" he yelled nervously.Martha was shocked. The strength on Damien's words

scared her. He had never spoken to her in such a tone."I'm sorry cornflakes!"Damien walked away with a grin on his face, he ran

upstairs and Luis followed him. Martha shook her head and looked

to see it any of the servants had witnessed the happening."I at least want his house number so his parents can pick

him up!"In the pile of board games resembling the Eiffel Tower,

Luis grabbed one of the boxes. Inside consisted a wooden board anda planchette. There were no instructions but Luis knew them byheart. He grabbed the board and asked Damien's permission to play.

"What is it?" asked Damien."It's a game that lets talk with ghosts!" confirmed Luis.Damien was not convinced at first, he had never heard of

such a thing, but as he looked within himself, he realized he had not heard of much in the first place.

"How does it work?"Luis explained and they started to play."Just place your hand on this piece," he said pointing.Luis turned off the lights and the board glowed amidst

darkness."Are there any ghosts in here?" giggled Luis.Damien shook in fear, all he could see were the mysterious

letters and numbers the board consisted of. The planchette slowlymoved to YES.

"Your pushing it," declared Damien."Shhhhwhat is your name?" directed Luis to the board.The board spelled out, A-C-A-R-I-O. They proceeded to ask

questions to the talking board. Unexpectedly, Martha opened thedoor and switched on the lights.

"What are you guys doing in here?" she asked."We are just playing a game mom.""It's getting dark, I think you should call your parents,"

said Martha towards Luis."It's okay, I will just walk," he said.

"Well, at least give us a call when you get home."They both released their hands from the planchette. As

they walked out of the room and closed the door behind them, theplanchette twitched by itself.

The next morning, when Damien entered the playroom,the board was in the exact same place. While he was placing it back

into the box, he found the instructions glued with gum under theboard. As he shuffled through the instructions, his eyes came upon aterrifying factor. Damien's heart jumped in fright. Luis and he hadnot said good-bye, which was an important rule of the game. Damienlooked around and felt dread surround him. He rushed to thekitchen where his mother was waiting to start breakfast.

"What's wrong cornflakes? Looks like you've seen aghost!" said Martha.

Damien did not respond, he quietly ate his breakfast. Theentire day he followed Martha around the house, he even decided to

go out shopping with her. Martha interpreted it as his way of feelingbad for screaming at her the day before.

When night arrived, Damien's room temperature droppedfive degrees. As he lay asleep, the bed lightly trembled. He woke upfrightened. He was paralyzed, his eyes moved rapidly tearing inpain. He heard footsteps approaching. He tried to scream for hismother, but no voice left his throat. Lurking in the corner of his left eye, he saw a black figure, standing over him. As the black figuredstretched out his wrinkling hands to cover Damien's eyes, theblackness turned into light as he gasped out of paralysis. The next morning, Damien no longer felt like himself.

Damien slowly walked downstairs, breathing heavily andgrowling. Martha's palms sweated in fear of her eight year old childas he walked in the kitchen with empty eyes.

"What's wrong cornflakes?"Damien did not speak, he silently set down on his usual

seat and starred at the wall. Martha right away phoned John crying,telling him about Damien's strange behavior.

"Are you sure he is not just acting up?" John suggested."Don't patronize me, I know my son."


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"Take him to see our doctor then. We pay him for that exact reason," John suggested, not even worried.

Martha noticed Damien had anxiety and anger written allover his face. After many exams, the doctors did not find anythingwrong with Damien, so Martha took him home. Damien continued toact strangely until Martha could not take it any longer. She phoned

John and pleaded for him to return home. Once John placed his eyesupon Damien, he noticed the emotional features in Damien's faceand right away knew it was no longer his boy inside the pale body.John gathered all his resources. They jumped from doctor to doctor,but none could help. Weeks passed and Damien only got worse.

John and Martha laid in bed, worried for their only child'ssafety. Martha laced her arms around John's chest and kissed hisshoulder.

"I have missed you so much John," she pleaded.John looked at the celling, not replying. He turned to the

side, facing his nightstand. His cellphone ringed. "Wrong number,"he responded to Martha as she asked who it was. Martha felt lonely.She rolled on top of John and fiercely kissed him. She kissed his neck and made her way down to his chest. She gripped his nipple andlightly bite it. in luscious pain, John grabbed her by the neck andlifted her silky red lingerie. Martha breathed heavenly as Johncaressed her breasts. It had been years since the two had made love,Martha longed for her husbands touch. In this moment she nolonger felt alone. John's cell phone rang again. He reached to grab it.

"Screw you," she yelled as she walked towards the masterbathroom.

Martha starred at herself in the mirror. She could see whyher husband no longer desired her. She wrapped her arms aroundher stomach and walked back in the room. John quickly hanged upthe phone.

"Wrong number again?" asked Martha."It was Doug, I have to return to Seattle in two days."it's one in the morning!""You're point?""Oh go to hell!" Martha whispered in his ear as she turned

around, placed on her eye mask and fell asleep.

"It's our last resort, we have to call him." John pointed out as he sealed his eyes for the night.

The priest sat down on the corner couch in the living roomand analyzed Martha and John standing over Damien as he waslatched onto a wooden chair.

"My poor cornflake," whispered Martha.

"That is not our little boy," said John, "I am sure.""Please help us father," she begged, directing her voice

towards the priest.The priest did not answer. He quietly placed on his

necklace cross, kissing it before resting it on his chest. He grabbed aglass vial from his pocket and rose it to the heavens. The boy staredinto the vial, his eyes twitched in fear. The room silenced. The boy'sheavy breathing scared Martha. The priest's forceful footsteps shook the floor. The boy gathered an immense amount of saliva and spat on the priest's necklace. The priest calmly grabbed a tissue from his

chest pocket and polished the silver cross. Diabolical screams filledthe living room. The priest opened the vial and poured some of theliquid into his right hand. The boy's skin ripped open as the holywater splattered all over his thin, unfed body.

"Stop it!" screamed Martha, hearing the cries of paincoming from her son.

The priest did not care to listen, he continued to slat holywater on the boy and pray in God's name. The boy's tears turnedred. Martha moaned in shock.

"What on earth is happening?" asked John.The priest maintained with his prayer. The boy's chair

levitated into the cold air. The priest's jaw fell to the ground; he hadnever experienced such malicious power.

"The power of Christ expels you!" shouted the priest,gasping for air.

John, who had been comfortably sitting in the cornercouch, got up and grabbed the chair. He used all this force to pull it down. The bone on his left thumb cracked. Martha, lost in the chaosran towards John and helped him lay down on the couch. The priest continued to repeat his sentence until the chair returned to theground. The boy's head leaned forward, his eyes shut.


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"Is it over?" asked Martha hopeful.The inexperienced priest shook his head in doubt. Martha

walked over to Damien and lightly tapped his raw right shoulder."Cornflakes?" she muttered.Damien's eyes opened and he gently lifted up his head."Mom?" he asked confused. His eyes had turned back to

their usual green color."Oh my sweet cornflakes!""Why can't I move?""Don't worry, everything's okay."Martha looked at the priest's droopy eyes. The priest

searched for his pen inside his briefcase. When he found it, he pulledin a chair near Damien and jotted down some notes.

"My name is Father Hayden."Damien paid minor attention to the priest, he looked at his

wrist and feet and still wondered why he had been confined to the

chair."Damien," demanded the priest, "listen to me carefully."Martha left Damien's side and took John to the bathroom,

to take a closer look at this fractured thumb."Do you know what is happening to you?" asked the priest."No...But...I can feel something inside of me," Damien said

innocently."Inside you?""I think its Acario" whispered Damien.The name echoed inside the priest's mind."Where did you hear this name?""He told us when we played the game.""What game Damien?""I don't know, but Luis does, he can tell you."The priest called Martha into the room and explained the

situation. Martha right away grabbed the phone and looked at therecent calls. She phoned.

"This is Martha Drakker, Damien's mother, is Luis in?" sheasked.

Cries were heard on the other end of the phone."Hello, hello?" repeated Martha confused.

"Luis is missing," cried a woman."I am so sorry!" Martha quickly dropped the phone to its

base. "He is missing father!"The priest did not make any promises, for this would be

the first time he would try to exorcize a demonic entity. The priest rested on his knees and begged God for strength. Martha prepared a

light soup for Damien, whose hollow stomach pleaded to be fed.After she satisfied Damien's hunger, the priest was ready to begin.Father Hayden sat across from Damien, while Martha sat on thecorner couch. He violently evoked Acario. Damien began to sweat and felt a cold worm swirling within his body.

"He's coming!" shouted Damien in ache.Damien held on tight to the chair and bounced like a

basketball as Acario took over his body. His eyes once againdarkened.

"Hello father," giggled Damien.

The priest trembled; he could not allow the entity to notehis fear.

"You have to leave this boy's body!"Damien laughed hysterically. Paused. He then seriously

looked into the priest's eyes."NEVER!"As the priest rose from the chair to grab the holy water,

Damien vomited the freshly ingested soup all over his black vest.Martha ran towards the kitchen and grabbed a damp cloth.

"Here you go father, I am so sorry!"The priest cleaned his vest and grabbed the vial. Damien

began to call the priest hideous names. The priest closed his ears tothe demon and focused on his praying. He cleansed Damien's bodywith holy water and he screamed in pain. Martha could no longerwatch the body of her small child being torn apart. She ran towardsthe chair.

"Get out of my son!" she screamed while shaking Damien'sbody.

She repeatedly slapped Damien in the face."You don't want me to rip out of this chair do you? You're

ruining all the fun!" said Damien with a deadly smirk.


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"Get out of my house!" Martha said shaking.The priest grabbed her hand."Stop it, that's not going to help.""I just want my little cornflake back," cried Martha leaning

on the priest's shoulder.John walked in the room. They both sat in the couch,

hopeless. The priest grabbed his bible and began to read. Damienshrieked and screamed as the father Hayden preached God's word.The entity refused to leave Damien's body while the priest refusedto stop. The priest grew tired of the continuous back and forth. Heexploded.

"Leave this boy you pest!"With his wrist secured to the wooden chair Damien's

bloodless hands rotated like helicopter blades. His bones crackedand his skin ripped as it twisted inside his muscle. Martha and Johngot up and rushed towards the chair.

"Do something!" John screamed shaking the priest's vest."I don't know what else to do!" he calmly said," We have to

keep praying."Martha, lost in thought, slammed her tired body into the

couch crying."I knew this wouldn't work! I just want my cornflake

back."The lights in the living room flickered, the glass coffee

table slowly shattered. The designer plates hanging on the wallbegan to fly across the room. The priest fell to the floor as a golden

plate sliced the side of his scalp open. Martha placed the couch'scushions on top of her and screamed helplessly. John helped thepriest up to his feet. The priest pressured his head to stop thebleeding.

"I am sorry," continued the priest, handing John a tightlywrapped bulk of one hundreds, "I can't do it!"

The money flew from the priest's hand to the turbulent and chilly air. The one hundred dollar bills slapped John in the faceas they created a tornado in the living room.

"Hahahaha," laughed Damien, "your money can't save younow!"

John looked at boy sitting at the chair, his own son,transformed into something so ugly and monstrous.

"Shut up!" he shouted, trying to hold back his anger, "giveme back my son."

"Do you miss him John?" Damien asked with a grin."He is my son! Don't you dare ask me that"

"Is that why you only visit him on the weekends?""Shut up, shut up, shut up!" screamed Martha with all herstrength.

John walked over to Martha. Both were lost. Their last hope had ran out the door. They were lost. John sat down besidesMartha. She leaned her head against John's shoulders. He lifted herhead.

"I promise you, I will fix this." he strongly affirmed.Damien giggle turned into a deep laughter. He turned his

head and looked Martha straight in the eyes.

"What do you want?" Martha yelled."You should be nicer to me Martha; at least I am honest

with you.""What the hell are you talking about?"So you don't know? Hahahaha!"Martha looked around. She looked at John confused. John

demonstrated no understanding."So she really does not know about Linda?" Damien asked

John.Martha looked at John. He looked away. His heart pumped

faster, his blood pressure increased."What is that thing talking about John? What about your

damn assistant? Huh?" she yelled punching his chest.John's anger took over his mind and body and he ran

towards Damien. He wrapped his hands around his son's neck."What are you doing? Stop it!" screamed Martha, she

pulled John away from Damien.John continued to suffocate the boy. Damien laughed

hysterically as his last breath on earth expired.Martha yanked John, "Get off him!"


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John was in tears, yet he was not able to let go of his son'sneck.

"What have you done?" screamed Martha from the top of her lungs, "You killed my cornflake! You killed my son."

John took a deep breath, swallowing his own tears. Marthaslapped John repeatedly across the face as he fell to the ground

realizing what his merciless hands had done.His hands dangled from the tip of the armchair, his armsand legs were ripped and sliced open from the holy water's power,his eyes empty and trailed with bloody tears, his lips dry andcracked, his soul gone.

a familiar exorcism

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