28

01

The Exorcism

The moment the exorcism began, Ed Warren noticed a violation of protocol that made him realize that the situation was even more serious than he had suspected. Even more than that, it made him realize that the church knew how serious it was, and that they had sent someone who would act accordingly.

The ritual being used by Father Nolan was the Rituale Romanus, the Roman Exorcism Ritual, which was performed in Latin and which, in forty-two years of research in psychic and supernatural phenomena, Ed had never, ever seen a priest use in the exorcism of a house. It was often used for the exorcism of a person of the Catholic faith whom the church had decided was, indeed, possessed by a demon, but it was never used to exorcise a house.

As the exorcism went on, Ed began to feel, once again, the constriction in his chest that he'd felt during the Mass. His heart began to pound against his ribs so hard that he could feel it in his throat. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the sensation as the exorcism continued.

Carmen began to feel the hand again, but this time it was much rougher than before. Her exhaustion was overwhelming. She thought she might not win this battle after all.

This time, Laura felt more than just a finger poking her eyes. This time, it was poking her all over her body, poking mercilessly, poking everywhere, poking hard...but she knew why: If she were to cry out, she would bring the exorcism to a screeching halt...and she knew she did not want to do that.

So she simply prayed silently and stiffened her back, determined not to pay attention to the things that were being done to her.

The voice that had growled inside Al's head during the Mass returned during the exorcism. It returned with a vengeance, screaming this time, saying, "You stupid sonofabitch asshole! You think this'll do something, you spineless fucking weakling? You think this'll help, you cocksucking wimp, you ass-licking weakling?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, telling himself, If you just ignore it, it'll go away and this will all be over.

The exorcism continued.

Knickknacks on shelves in cabinets began to rattle.

Pictures hanging on the wall began to tremble, their frames clattering against the wall.

Four hours into the exorcism, Ed Warren's left arm began to ache; it began to throb as his chest grew tighter and tighter.

Beads of sweat began to break out on his forehead and upper lip and trickled slowly down his face as his breath gradually grew short and his heartbeat began to pound in his head.

Ed grabbed Lorraine's hand, clutched it tightly and leaned toward her, whispering in her ear, "I can't believe what's happening to me."

She felt the trembling in his hand, which was very uncharacteristic for Ed, and when she saw the sweat pouring down his face, she became very concerned.

"What is it?" she whispered, turning to him, trying hard not to interrupt the ceremony.

Ed put a hand to his chest. "I think...it's m-my heart," he whispered as the pain in his arm increased and his chest felt as if a steel band were tightening around it, pulling tighter and tighter.

"I'm gonna have to get outta here," Ed wheezed, squeezing Lorraine's hand even tighter as he tried to catch his breath.

She began to lead him from the living room to the hallway, but something happened that brought them to a sudden halt.

The entire house tilted so that Ed and Lorraine were suddenly climbing up the floor rather than walking across it.

Everyone in the room cried out, suddenly clutching one another for balance.

Father Nolan leaned down and gripped the table, but did not miss a beat; he continued the ritual, his voice louder than before, his eyes wider and his jaw set firmly with determination.

Lorraine was not deterred by what she knew to be nothing more than a very convincing illusion, and she continued to lead Ed out of the room, across the hall and into the dining room, where he dropped heavily into a chair, folded his arms on the tabletop and lowered his head weakly.

Father Nolan continued as the others regained their balance when the house seemed to level out.

But it was not through with them.

As the ritual went on, what felt like waves moved fluidly through the floor, making all of them stumble again and again.

Tendrils of smoke rose from the carpet, tendrils that stretched upward like arms and formed hands at the ends...groping, clawing hands...hands that clutched at their legs as they rose...hands they could feel...hands with sharp claws that scraped over their clothes, trying to slice through, trying to get to their skin, to slice through their flesh as well. And then, as suddenly as they had come, they were gone.

The ritual continued.

Perspiration was visible on Father Nolan's face and his hands were beginning to tremble. The strain showed in his eyes and on his unsteady lips.

Suddenly, voices began to fill the room, low, hoarse and guttural voices that were heard by them all and that began to close in on them from every direction...wet, gurgling voices that brought with them a smell...a vile, hideous stench...the reek of rotting, decaying flesh.

"We looooved it..."

"The fucking and the sucking..."

"All that groping and fondling..."

"It was wonderful..."

Then they began to appear, oozing out of the walls and through the furniture like fluid in the shape of human bodies...both male and female...naked and bruised, their bodies puffy and mottled with white and blue and purple...their eyes rolled back in their heads so that only glaring whites were visible...some with their arms swaying limply at their sides as they moved in, others with an arm—or both arms—outstretched as they shuffled, the voices continuing:

"...no god that can stop it..."

"...don't want it to stop..."

"...enjoyed it, all of it..."

"...all that licking on our skin, all that feeling and touching..."

"...fucking and sucking..."

"...groping and licking..."

Father Nolan raised his voice to a near shout, standing straighter than before, his voice growing even louder as he ended the ritual at a fever pitch, shouting the Latin words hoarsely.

They were gone.

The horrible stench had left the room.

Father Nolan was dripping with sweat. He faced those in the room for a long moment, trying to catch his breath. Although he was in top physical condition, he looked as though he had been brought to the very precipice of his endurance.

He turned from the makeshift altar, left the room and went into the dining room, holding a vial of holy water in one hand.

Father Nolan stood over Ed Warren, looking down at him with great concern. "How is he?" he asked Lorraine, who sat beside Ed with her arm around his shoulders.

"Well...I'm not really sure," she whispered hoarsely. "He's had a heart attack before, you know. If he doesn't come out of this soon, we're gonna have to call an ambulance."

Father Nolan sprinkled Ed with holy water, waved his hand through the air in the shape of the cross and murmured something in Latin. Then he leaned forward and asked quietly, "Are you all right, Ed?"

Ed lifted his head from the coffee table and coughed, "Y-yeah, I think so."

"Good. So am I." He stood and said, very loudly, "By the power of Jesus Christ, we are both all right."

Almost as if a heavy blanket had suddenly been lifted from the house, the feeling of oppression, the dark and smothering atmosphere that had permeated the house for so long, was, in that moment, gone.

It was so noticeable that those still standing in the living room gasped with shock when they felt the change.

The house seemed brighter, as if the sun, for the first time in a long while, was finally able to penetrate the windowpanes and illuminate the inside of the house.

Ed Warren pushed his chair away from the dining-room table and stood slowly, carefully, with Lorraine's arm still around his broad shoulders.

He turned to Father Nolan, gave him a weak smile and said, "I think it worked, Father. I think it worked.