Simon's First Exorcism, Part IV: Vade retro satana

I glanced at the Father, wondering when it would all begin. Knowing the liturgy from readings was one thing; but being here, the taint of corruption palpable in the air, witnessing what Annie had become, was another.

“Be prepared to place this over her head,” the Father calmly intoned to me. I glanced at his hand and knew, instinctually, that this was fubarred. He was holding a plastic bag.

“But, um,” I hesitated, “I can’t do that. She’d, um, you know, suffocate.”

“Do it now, boy!” the Father entreated, dropping the bag before me. His voice became a melodic whisper at the heart of a hurricane; “Crux sancta sit mihi lux,” he spoke to Annie, agony blistering open on her face. “Non draco sit mihi dux.”

I picked the bag up, its wrinkles and folds making an unpleasant sound as it moved. “Vade retro satana,” the Father continued. The room started to spin before me, all direction lost. “Nunquam suade mihi vana.”

I heard a scream in the chaos, but it could have been mine.

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