Page 50 of Splintered
It took Father Mathew a few minutes to reply. Ben clutched the phone the entire time, willing a response. Evan kept whispering in his arms, a ceaseless, constant loop of susurrus sound.
[He’s saying:
‘“But I am a worm and not a man, scorned by men and despised by people. Everyone who sees me mocks me. They sneer and shake their heads: He relies on the Lord. Let Him rescue him. Let the Lord deliver him!”
Tomorrow. Tomorrow.’
The first part is from Psalm 22. Then he says ‘tomorrow’ twice.
Ben, the demon knows we are coming.]
As he finished reading, Evan’s whispers quieted on an exhaled breath, and he turned to dead weight against Ben as sleep seemed to take over. He began to snore, soft, quiet breaths through his open lips.
Ben kept his phone on the edge of his pillow and pulled Evan close.
He held Evan for the entire night, watching the light from the amber lamp in the hallway burn around the bedroom doorframe. The house groaned as the clock ticked the hours down.
Until tomorrow.
* * *
Chapter Fifteen
Despite his best efforts,Ben fell asleep sometime before dawn, his eyelids falling faster and faster as he held Evan and counted his breaths. Right before he drifted off, he kissed Evan’s hair and whispered, “I love you.”
He snapped awake hours later, the sun streaming through the window and into his eyes. Evan lay curled beside him, his face smashed into Ben’s chest, one arm clinging to Ben’s waist. Their legs were tangled together.
His heart hammered as he stroked Evan’s back, as he listened to him snore. Had he missed anything? Had Evan hurt himself? Would there be blood in the bathroom again? If he got out of bed, would he find something horrible somewhere in the house?
He hated this, the fear that grew inside of him. The uncertainty. The way he couldn’t trust the man he loved lying in his arms.
His stomach clenched so hard he curled over himself. Ben worked free from Evan’s hold as he gritted his teeth and jogged for the toilet. He barely made it before he was down on his knees, hurling into the bowl. His reflection shimmered back at him through the watery bile, tinted orange and vile green. Pea soup green.
Today was the day.
Every movie he’d seen, every book he’d read, every news article on failed exorcisms in the modern age. Every historical account from the classes he’d taught, the hundreds of years of horror and carnage.
Was he making a huge mistake?
For every terrible headline, there were a thousand success cases, Father Mathew had said. The successful exorcisms outnumbered the tragedies by leaps and bounds. He’d given Ben names to look up.
He’d been on Google all night Sunday.
“Ben?”
“I’m here.” He flushed, wiped his mouth, and padded back to the bedroom, plastering a smile on his face.
Evan beamed at him, though he seemed tired, fuzzy on the edges. He held out his hand for Ben’s and kissed Ben’s palm. “This is what I want. Us, like this. Back to normal.”
Things were so far from normal for Ben he couldn’t even imagine what normal looked like anymore. Couldn’t fathom how this moment could be at all like what they used to have. He smiled, though. Kissed Evan’s cheek and ran his fingers through his hair. “How are you?”
“Tired. I don’t feel like I really slept.”
You didn’t. There was something else with you. Or, your symptoms were flaring again.Ben shook his head. He was almost dizzy he was so exhausted himself. “Me either.”
“I think the meds are starting to wear off.”
“Oh?”
