Love & Exorcisms | 18+ | COMPLETE |

- Chapter 29 -

The moment I desired to return to control of my body, my muscles began to spasm. I felt as if I were being squeezed into a tube far too small for my body, and my bones were forced to bend, my organs crushed, my flesh tightening. My vision flashed and Damian's face swam before me.

Not this time. You got what you wanted, girl. You asked for this.

I tried to cry out for help but no sound came. My throat constricted, choking out a laugh instead of my desperate pleas. My teeth ground together and my body thrashed in Damian's hold. His strength alone kept me from falling to the ground. Vicious desires ran through me. I could smell blood and sweat permeating the room.

You promised us a kill and there will be a kill, stupid girl.

My teeth ached for the tender curve in Damian's neck, where all the blood ran bright and the skin was thin and I could see the soft blue of his veins. Sweet salty iron. Stringy tense flesh. I began to pant. I struggled now to keep my teeth clenched.

I had made a mistake.

The harder I fought the more it hurt. My ears popped and began to ring. I thought my teeth might crack. My eyes rolled back as my spine began to curve. Through my blurred vision I watched Damian's lips move as if in slow motion. It sent shudders through me. I tasted bile. The room spun.

Damian carried me up the stairs. My greatest fight now was the struggle not to hurt him. I had the strength to do it: to snap his neck, gouge out his eyes, tear into his throat. The voices swirled in an endless cacophony of glee and fury: encouraging me, berating me.

You're ours now. You needed us. No turning back. Open the gate. Kill him. Stop fighting.

They grew louder and louder until my head was reverberating with solid sound. I felt as rigid as the stones my body was laid upon. Damian hovered over me, both far away and far too close. I wanted to reach out for him. I desperately did not want him to let go. I was terrified, falling deeper and deeper toward whatever void awaited me.

What if I couldn't go back?

He straddled my body, his weight preventing me from thrashing. My lungs felt as if they were being gripped by two large fists. With one hand he pressed my head down, preventing me from knocking it against the dirty chapel stones. I realized I had been laid before the chancel, and high above me the unfeeling marble Christ stared down. My arms thrashed, seeking a grip on Damian's face. I didn't want to hurt him, but my nails sought to dig deep. He caught them, contained me. He held my wrists pinned and shouted my name loudly enough for it to come through over the clamor of voices.

"Don't let go, Samara." He sounded far away, as if he were speaking to me from beneath the river waters. "Don't let go. We'll fight them together. I'm not leaving you."

I was being smothered, slowly suffocating within my own body. But despite my struggling, Damian did not stop fighting back. He wiped the ash from his brow, slick with the sweat of his exertions, and marked it in an X upon my forehead. It began to burn, deep and agonizing, but the pain made my body feel like my own again. The scream that ripped from my throat was mine alone, unclaimed by them. And still Damian held me there, and said, "Tell me your name, dark one! May the one who holds her come forth, come forth and speak your name! Relinquish your hold, free her!"

His name...his name...I knew it...but it burned. It burned in my throat and sliced over my tongue. I could see the Black One's eyes all around me, filling me with a fury and hatred that I had not felt since I last laid eyes on Richard Morrison. I could see the demon, blackened and cracked, yellow eyes bright, scuttling across the ceiling like a roach.