On a glorious sunny day doing a not-so-lovely task, Father Chris walked along the cracked stone pavement across the green lawn of St. Michael’s Church heading towards the back entrance.
Walking along the stony paths leading to the church steps, Father Chris was about to meet Sebastian, his wife Patrica, and his best friend Clark to witness in case anything unexpected happened during their private session.
He met them in the church chapel where they promised to meet as he opened the large oak double doors and solemnly entered. He blessed himself with holy water bowing to the Tabernacle where the Lord was present.
Only to Him would the priest bow.
In the back of the chapel, darkened and empty, held the tortured man Sebastian who hit his head on the white walls steadily rocking miserably back and forth like a ticking clock.
Patricia gazed at Father and said nothing, his friend Clark looked worried and said, “Hi, Father Chris. How we doin’?”
“Good, good. How are you all?”
“We’re doin’ pretty good.”
“Are you kiddin’ me,” Patricia said curtly and hurt. “He had a fit last night.”
“That’ll happen right before the first meeting sometimes,” Father Chris assured gently.
“You weren’t there it was fuckin’ terrible,” Patricia said, tears streaking her brown eyes. “I don’t wanna see what I saw last night ever again.”
“OK, OK, I’m sorry, Patricia.”
“Don’t you be sorry to me you fuckin’ priest! My husband almost died! You don’t care if he dies or not, do you?”
Father Chris shifted nervously. He sensed something was wrong. Patricia wasn’t telling him everything. Restless, she didn’t dare look him in the eyes. Huddled together shivering like mad dogs, they were present but reluctant for the session to start.
Father Chris pushed forward uncertain, doubt creeping inside his mind. “Well, let’s get started, shall we? You ready, Sebastian?”
Sebastian turned and cursed quietly and spit in his direction. “I’m not feeling so great, father.”
“It’s OK, son,” the old priest comforted him.
“Will you be able to help me, father?” he desperately cried.
“I won’t be able to but Jesus will help you, son.”
Then his eyes turned into green serpent eyes evil and cunning screaming and attacking as he dug his wolf claws into Father Chris’s shoulders.
Violently, he grabbed his hands and struggled with him full of pity for Sebastian. The possessed man cursed him and his Lord.
“You have no power here, priest!”
Flinging his sharp claws into his head, Father Chris said softly, “Be still. Christ demands it. The Virgin rejoices.”
Becoming quiet, his appearance changed back to what it was before disappearing as the demon went dormant hiding out of fear.
Suddenly, the demon tortured him as he fell to the floor writhing and screaming, “Oh, help me! Please, somebody!”
“Get him to the front.”
“No, please I don’t want to. Please!” Sebastian wailed.
“He doesn’t want to, Father!” Patricia yelled at Chris.
“The demon doesn’t want to Patricia. I need him to be closer up there.”
Her eyes inflamed with fury, “He’s not possessed, you idiot! He’s sick, he’s emotionally disturbed.”
Clark said, “Come on, Patricia, we got Father Chris, here, for a reason right? Sebastian wanted it.”
“Oh, he doesn’t know what he wants, Clark. How can you say that? He stays up late every fuckin’ day! He’s not right in the head. What he needs is to be loved and listened-”
Then Sebastian clawed her and cursed at her laughing wildly. Patricia held her face as it bled flowing down and she yelled in fear running out of the chapel.
“Patricia!” Father Chris called. “Patricia we need you! You agreed!” The two men held Sebastian down as he writhed violently and convulsed spitting and yelling.
Then he started muttering rapidly in Latin looking dazed staring up at the ceiling.
Abruptly, Patricia came back in as the doors slammed shut. The three men were on the floor as Father Chris wiped Sebastian’s drooling mouth.
Then silently and intentionally, Patricia wiped her eyes and then all of a sudden attacked Father.
Climbing on his back, and cursing at him viscously, he flung her off as she was hurled roughly to the side altar. She landed into the offering where the burning candles caught her clothes and began to catch fire.
She screamed wiping her sleeves where the flames were fuming wildly, “Look, what you made me do, priest!”
The fire went onto the rug and was catching fire on a church banner that read All Are Welcome in this Place desinged by kid’s coloring letters. The flames spread to the pamphlets and streaked along catching other banners like a living spirit. Active and alive burning up a sign that read, The New Atheist Catholic.
She rose like a tiger huffing like some wretched beast and ran on all fours toward Father.
“Father, what’s going on,” Clark asked terrified.
“Mother of-”
Patricia lunged at him and laughed maniacally smiling wryly and spit in his face, “Mother of dirt!”
Her eyes were yellow glaring deep into Father Chris’ soul burning wickedly.
The demon went to bite his neck but Father Chris backhanded the possessed and kicked her off as she rolled and guffawed deeply, “You think you can defeat me, priest! No man can defeat me!”
She ran full speed ahead and brought him down again.
“Look at me, stare into my eyes when I impale you with your own crucifix!” Patricia smiled wickedly as she bled from her mouth and spat over the priest. She tried to grab the giant crucifix he wore around his neck and then rapidly ripped it off of him.
“Unhand me, devil in the name of Jesus!”
Suddenly, she stopped short and moaned loudly. She sounded like a gremlin from hell choking and then rolled over violently vomiting blood.
But as Father Chris rose, he saw Sebastian casting his friend Clark into the flames as he burned shouting in agony.
Father Chris pushed Sebastian over into the pew, took off his priest’s vestments, and extinguished the raging flames on Clark as he wiped his sleeves profusely. Agonizing over the traumatic events, Clark rose and landed on the church’s pillar.
“You alright, Clark?”
“Yeah, damn.”
“Damn is right,” Sebastian screamed with wolf’s claws stretching forth. “Damn you all to Hades!”
Sebastian came back as Father Chris, cross in hand, held it up and commanded, “I’m a child of God, Satan. Go back to hell in the name of Jesus Christ!”
Sebastian yelled holding his miserable visage that looked like a hairy monster with yellow eyes and fangs, but as he slid down to his knees positioned perfectly and facing the tabernacle, he screamed defeated.
Father Chris panted and bent over tired after a short but eventful session.
Sebastian looking downcast put his forhead on the cold church floor in the darkened hall breathing in and out deeply.
“You, OK, son.” Father went to Sebastian who saw him for the first time, looking at his priest and seeing the concern and compassion in his hazel eyes.
“Father… Oh, I want him to go away.”
“Are you sorry, Sebastian? Turn to God and repent and the evil one will flee from you.”
Sebastian with a bloody mouth turned to the tabernacle and as he did, Patricia battered and angry seized his throat.
She wrung his neck with her ugly thick fingers strong as five men as hatred Father Chris had never seen before revealed itself in all its ugly fury.
“He’ll never forgive you!” Patricia screamed.
But Father Chris then shouted holding up the crucifix of Jesus dying on the cross for the sins of the whole world.
“Be gone, devil in the name of Jesus Christ, begone! For a Savior has come and He has covered us in His blood! He has set mankind free! Be gone in the name of Jesus! Out, out of her!”
Patricia vomited again all over the marble floor as blood and water trailed along.
“Patricia… are you, OK?”
Sobbing, “I’m so sorry.” She trembled as Father Chris held her and she cried in his arms.
“It’s OK, do you believe, Patricia?”
“In what? I don’t know, I just know I never want to experience that again,” she cried, lamenting loudly.
“Believe in Him, believe in Christ for He wants to save you. Do you want Jesus?”
She cried again but then after a moment stopped and breathed in and out slowly sitting there on the floor.
“Do you,” he asked concerned for her salvation.
Clark comforted Sebastian as he came to himself.
“Well,” Father Chris said after Patricia didn’t respond. “Think it over. Only Jesus can save you, my dear.” Gently he rose and brushed off his priestly garb.
Without a word, she wiped her nose and rose heading towards the bathroom door.
“How do you think it went, Father,” Clark asked helping up Sebastian.
“Well, only time will tell. Let’s get you cleaned up, Sebastian.”
He moaned hoarsely. “I’m sorry I hit you, Father.”
“Nothin’ to be sorry about, son,” Father Chris said quietly and gently. “Turn to God now. I’m just a vessel. I’m nobody. Turn to Him for He wants to save you.”
Aaron Michael has a substantial insight into the presence of evil. Fascinating yet sobering account of the daily war between good and evil.