A booming voice echoed through the room, even from the other side of the door. "Ready yourself," someone called. "We're preparing for the exorcism now—we'll come for you soon." The retreat of the stranger's footsteps echoed after them, growing more distant.

I swallowed hard. The exorcism... It would be a total understatement to say I wasn't looking forward to it. The spirit inside me didn't seem psyched about it either. They were shivering, though they didn't say anything.

I looked at Luc. "What are we going to do?"

He was just slumped against the wall. His face was still blank. "Go through with it," he said, his voice empty and flat.

"What?" I shouted. My voice rang through the small cell. "You want me to go through the exorcism?! I can't—I can't go through that again—"

"That presence that's possessing can't stay," Luc said, his empty eyes finally dragging to meet mine. "One way or another, it needs to go. And it doesn't appear we're going to get another chance to do it my way..."

"No!" I said, leaping to my feet. I scanned the room again, looking for some way out of the tiny room that we had somehow missed before. "We have to get out of here!"

"And how do you propose we do that?" Luc snapped. His voice was sharp, but at least there was light in his eyes again. "What are you going to do, Rachel? You're not—" he stopped himself.

But I knew what he was going to say—you're not psychic. Even though it wasn't exactly news to me, it still hurt. He really didn't think I could be of any use.

He took a deep breath before he continued. "Even I can't break through these barriers and if I'm not strong enough to take them on, then Tory, Ethan, Polly—they have no chance in hell. And that's if they even know where we are..."

I continued to search the room. "Well, that doesn't mean that we have to—" I started, but my voice suddenly cracked. Sudden tears spilled down my cheeks. I swiped at my cheeks to chase them away. "We don't have to just give up."

The spirit tensed, gently squeezing me. If I didn't know any better, it had felt like... like a hug... from the inside. Weird.

Be brave, the stranger's voice whispered inside my head. I'll help you.

How? I asked back.

They didn't reply.

"I'm not asking you to give up," Luc said, sitting up. "Just try and cooperate with them, Rachel. Maybe it will be easier if you don't fight them."

I opened my mouth to object when another pounding knock reverberated through the door. Luc got to his feet, too.

"It's time," came the same booming voice from the other side.

The door opened. I scrambled away, pressing myself against the far wall. Three women appeared behind the door. They stepped through into the room, blocking the only exit. There was nowhere to go. I felt like a mouse cornered by a cat.

The women that stood before us were all very different. One couldn't have been more than eighteen, with thick black hair; the other—the one in front—was middle-aged, with silver running through her taut red bun; and just behind her was a hunched old woman, completely bald, who looked older than Matilda, even older than Ethan's grandmother. Each one of them was wearing a blue cloak and carrying a thin wooden staff that was covered in intricate carvings.

"Now, please don't resist," said the eldest one. "We don't want to hurt you."

Bullshit. I scowled at them, shrinking back against the wall.

The middle-aged woman strode towards me and swung her staff at me. I raised my hands and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for impact.

But the staff didn't land. I opened my eyes to find she had stopped it just in front of me. I had only a second to study the carved pattern up close—it was like the wood was braided—before each part began to move, separating from each other... Then it shot out at me. I screamed and tried to dodge, but it was too quick. It grabbed me, each tendril snaking around my arms and binding them together, squeezing me tight.

"Stop," she said as I continued to struggle. "I will tighten it if I have to."

I scowled at her but stopped. Maybe this wasn't the time to exert the energy. After a moment, the wood stopped moving, solidifying again.

She nodded with approval, then began to pull me from the room. I had no choice but to follow.

Luc lingered at the wall, watching as I was dragged away. I glared at him. Was he really just going to stand there?

"Him, too," said the oldest one as I was led through the door, "Matilda said she had a plan for him."

Luc frowned but didn't move as the youngest one approached him. Her wide eyes were watching him closely like she was in awe. He didn't make eye contact with her, just folded his arms behind his back and waited for the bands of the wooden staff to wrap around him. He followed dutifully as the young girl pulled him along.

We were in the hall now. Like the room, it was made of stone, floor to ceiling. We were on a narrow landing that sat between two sets of spiral staircases. The eldest led the way, heading downwards. We were dragged along after.

The stairs seemed to go on and on, around in a circle after circle... Just as it started to turn my stomach we finally came to flat ground, entering into another narrow hall. More stone. Were we in some sort of castle? The hall came to a stop in front of a large wooden door. The Eldest waved her hand and the large door pushed aside, opening into an enormous room.

The was circular, too, but much larger. Supporting pillars soared over our heads, coming together to hold up the elaborate stained-glass dome ceiling. Light filtered through the coloured glass, casting the room in a thousand different colours like we were standing inside a kaleidoscope. It would've been beautiful if I had no idea what was coming.

Despite the size of the room, it was almost entirely empty. The only furniture was a strange chair in the centre of everything. It was more like a throne than a chair—it was made of the same twisty wood as the staff that held me, only its branches splayed out the back like a fan. Then I looked down and a large circle carved into the stone directly beneath the chair, adorned with various symbols I couldn't read. In fact, the set up they had here was remarkably similar to the one she had in Matilda's house... only more grand.

It all made sense though when Matilda stepped out from the shadow of one of the pillars.

"Take her to the chair," she said to the others. "Bring him to me."

The women obeyed.

The one that led me dragged me into the circle, positioning me in front of the chair. All the branches began to move at once. As the staff released me, the chair took hold, pulling me back into the seat. The branches overhead came down, twisting across my chest and throat. The spirit began to flutter inside me, a nervous bird beating against its cage.

Matilda was positioned at the edge of the circle, right in front of my spot in the chair. Luc was being pulled along to her side. He seemed a little less calm now.

The girl offered the end of the staff to Matilda, who took it readily. She twisted it, forcing Luc to his knees. The wood of the staff that bound Luc began to move again, taking root in the stone to hold him in place.

"What do you want from me, Matilda?" Luc said, staring up at her.

"I want nothing from you, you fool," Matilda snapped, her quiet voice full of venom. She really did not like him. "It's what you can do for me."

Luc didn't respond but he didn't seem to like where this was going.

Matilda ignored him and turned to me. "Rachel, I know last time this didn't go as smoothly as we would've liked," Matilda said, her voice softening again. "It was because you resisted me. You can't do that again, Rachel... Not if you want to survive. Fortunately, I think I found something that will motivate you."

She reached for Luc, tangling her fingers in his hair and then yanking his head back. She dug into her pocket and produced a strange silver shape. From my position, I couldn't see what it was exactly, but I could see the flash of light that danced on its edge.

Matilda maintained eye contact with me as she raised the silver object to Luc's face, dragging that shining edge against his cheek. Luc cried out and a thick stream of red ran over his skin.

It was some kind of strangely-shaped blade.

No! I fought against the chair, even though I knew there was no way to get free. The presence inside me thrashed, too. It was not happy.

"This time, if you resist me, I'll have to take out my frustration on Luc," Matilda explained, bringing the crescent to Luc's throat. "So, shall we begin?"

🔮

It seems like there's more to this than just an exorcism...
What do you think Matilda wants?

Shout out to one my patrons MilyCollins for all her support. ❤️