Love & Exorcisms | 18+ | COMPLETE |

- Chapter 38 -

I shivered as Damian's fingers worked their way to my scalp. They paused there, a gentle pull on my hair, as his voice grew quieter and then, silenced. He sighed, and I looked back at him over my shoulder. His eyes were distant, caught in memory. Shadowed with pain. I longed to reach out to him, to touch him, to offer some...comfort. If anything could even ease the pain of seeing your own mother turn against you.

"Damian," I began, but did not know where to end. What could I say? I was familiar with pain, and for any comforting words of understanding there was only emptiness that followed. Words, in the face of such trauma, were mere grains of sand.

"She was already gone," he said. "It had been feeding on her for weeks, the being that crept inside. A woman as wise as she should have seen it, should have recognized the danger. But the pills they gave her kept her numb. They clouded her mind. It gave them the time they needed to infest her." Slowly, he began to rinse my hair again. "It wasn't she that wielded the knife. Not truly. It took all that she was and destroyed it. It used her body to stand over me, laugh at me. I recognized it for what it was, even at that age. My grandmother had taught me well: I knew the signs of possession. Dizzy and sick as I was, I called it out." He laughed, bitterly. "I had no power in me to stop it, but I still tried. I demanded its name."

"There is power in their names, isn't there?" I said, as he began to massage the soap onto my scalp.

"To know a demon's name is to know how to command it. They will still fight you, but it is like putting a gun in your hands when previously you only had your fists. That is why I was able to cast Krahia from you - part of why, at least. It gave us a fighting chance. I can't imagine your other tormentors have been so bold as to tell you their names?"

"Sadly not," I said. It was easy to forget, in that peaceful moment, that there were still "others" within me. They were silent, and I wondered if they were merely resting or if they were still watching, ready to punish me with a vengeance the moment they had the chance. "That man...James...the doctor, I assume..."

"Does he sound like your Carnickey?" I nodded. "I suspected as much. Would that I could better remember his face, but the moment you made mention of him I thought of James..." He sighed. "They called it Legion: her infestation, the army, the host of demonic entities that swarmed into her."

"Like the Book of Mark," I murmured. "We are Legion, for we are many." I shuddered. I had heard that name before - in reference to myself. "You've spoken of Legion before...about me..."

He paused. "I thought you were asleep during that conversation. Here, tip your head back."

I scooted forward in the tub, and let him ease my head down into the water. Thus submerged, his fingers massaged the filth from my scalp as I gazed up at him. The care with which he handled me matched the expression I beheld upon his face. I tried not to look at him too long. Just seeing the gentleness in his eyes sent my mind into a flurry. How was I supposed to react to kindness? To care? I barely knew how to conduct myself and it made my belly light with embarrassment.

The record had reached its end, emitting only a scratchy static from the gramophone. Damian helped me sit back up, then moved across the room to bring me a fluffy towel from a hook upon the wall.

"What is Legion?" I said, as I pulled the tubs plug and my warm water began to swirl away. "Why is it that I'm the second woman to be infested with it? Why are these people-"

"Stand up please," Damian held open the towel for me, so when I stepped from the tub he draped it around my body and I was immediately engulfed in warm, fluffy goodness. "This has become an even longer conversation than I anticipated. Though I suppose it needs telling after everything..." His tiredness had returned, but it was the sleepiness of a relaxed man, not the exhaustion of one utterly depleted. It seemed our little session had done us both good. He motioned to the gray cushioned stool beside the gramophone. "Sit please, if you would, with your back to me. I'll tell you what I know."