Blood Moon #Wattys2018

Betrayal and Exorcism

(Student ??? Pov)

Why out of all places would Jamison allow me into a mausoleum during late twilight? It was after class session within Sacred Hearth in the heart of Camberwell and I couldn't believe myself. I'm being driven deeper into the cemetery's infamous mausoleum by an American who thinks a rose is the sweetest gift for a friend. Sure, anyone would usually go get flowers for upcoming Valentine's Day, but not like this!

"Explain why this rose is special?" "Students usually gossip about an interesting rose lying in here, but there's a catch. It's under the guard of some figure unknown to anyone. I believe--" "Dude, I know you're a semi-goth, but this isn't funny! You're thinking it's a demon from Hell! Think of what hysteria will rise from the ashes! Priests--" "You think too much!," he gave me a wink. Still, I don't like him. Sure, we were friends, but I never knew of this unexpected turn. He was listening to punk music, reading goth related content including spell books, and who knows what type of shit he's gotten himself into! I'm starting to believe he's been also hiding 'you know what' under his mattress.

But me, I've been clean. Well, somewhat... My father is known well on the Internet for many topics and this series a friend of his back in America did in 2016. I don't remember some of the details except he told me it was flipping traumatic! Just the thought of going into something like a basement still haunted me! But, let's just say that he displayed me a few times, and I did get some credit. But, something was in the back of my mind. While my father was away, I did a bit of searching. There, I found a small painting of a handsome young male. I displayed it to my father during a video chat, leaving him in surprise. My mother's reaction was completely different on the other hand. Instantly, she took it from my hand and shredded it to nothing. She told me to leave the house and head to Sacred Hearth in Camberwell. What the flipping hell was wrong with her? Who was that male? Why did he...

"Can you at least help me?," he pulled my hand towards a large marble deathbed shrouded in rose thorns and vines. Semblance to a madman, he began slicing the beauty out of the rose vines. I couldn't help but to stare, mentally frightened of whatever was inside the bed. Yet, it seemed silent, but I believed I heard a voice. "James...," I called out to him, but he kept going. "Just stop!" He kept going deeper! I left him with no choice. Instantly, I pulled him out, but his hand controlled knife lacerated my cheek. With wide eyes, he stared at me as the minor trickle of blood streamed down my face. Silence filled the void, yet he peered away from me.

"Why're you doing this? The dead are supposed to be at peace. Just leave the rose behind, and we--" "You don't get it.," he displayed the knife point at me, "You're jealous!" "What?! NO!" "You're jealous because I want the rose just to prove everyone that it exists! Once they do, I'll have everything." "Greed is a sin! You know this! Why let Leviathan and Mammon possess you?!" "I'm not possessed! I just wanna prove that it exists! This rumor seeded about three years ago when two young men were buried alive! Ever since, the rose came to life, feeding upon the rumor." "You're listening to nothing but deception! Just surcease and we can go home."

Then suddenly BANG! We turned amid hearing the stone echo violently like a drum. I peered within his hands, and furrowed my eyebrows. He gave off a cheeky smile amid revealing the rose. Yet, I couldn't be wrong for I believed a voice was inside. "What the--?!" Again and again, the banging continued while this voice was screaming for life's hand to reach his soul. "Are you alright?!," Jamison was first to react, but backed away when the stone collided with bone, banging violently. I came behind him, thinking of whatever could be inside. Could it be the soul who was buried alive? "Wait! Did he say key?," I began to question myself amid knowing the truth, "Start looking!" "I am!," he peered through the thorn vines.