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   Chapter 8 His Demon Inside

Sanctum By JMFelic Characters: 17024

Updated: 2018-08-10 21:40

Aurora found herself lying on her bed the next morning with bandaged wrists. She immediately straightened to sit, but an instant shooting headache made her drop in pain.

"You should rest Aurora. Don't overexert yourself, " Sister Clarice kindly said to her, sitting in a stool a few inches away. The nun had been with her the whole night as it was what Father Azrael had strictly instructed. Any unusualities, she must report immediately even if it was in the dead of the night. Luckily, there have been none, to the Sister's relief.

"Sister Clarice? Why are you here?" Aurora looked up, touching her forehead with her palm.

"Father Azrael told me to take care of you. He brought you here unconscious and bruised."

"Oh?" With that, Aurora recollected everything that had happened in the school. Whatever she saw that time, whatever she experienced, it was as real as the mattress she was lying. She was truly thankful that Father Azrael had come to her aid. However, there was a question that lingered in her mind, and to answer it, she would have to confront Father Azrael face to face.

"All right, I think you are hungry. I should go and prepare breakfast for you." Sister Clarice stood up and turned to the door.

"No Sister, that is not necessary. I can stand up, see?" Aurora jumped up and stood straight, fighting the shooting headache off. She had an undebatable expression and a determined face when the nun looked at her.

"Hmmm... I can see that, but you still need to rest okay?" Sister Clarice negotiated.

"Yes Sister, don't you worry, " she guaranteed and then went to pull her bath towel that hang behind the door.

Sister Clarice smiled politely as she left. Now, Aurora finally had the room for herself. She had so much in plan to do this day, but first things first, she needed to bathe and get the stink of the demon out of her.




Father Azrael was already awake at six early in the morning. After finishing his entry on his journal, he slid his brown leather coat on, completing his ensemble. He had already worn a black clerical shirt with a tab collar inserted and black slacks. The pectoral cross was left dangling on his chest. He immediately set foot, intending to reach the orphanage house riding a cab.

The usual hustle and bustle greeted him in the courtyard when he arrived there. This time, he saw Jennie happily playing with the husky puppy and Jessa sitting in a wheelchair looking bright and cheerful.

It was good that everything went out right for her. She was so innocent that she didn't deserve being possessed by a demon.

He passed them silently before the little girls could even notice him and went directly to Aurora's room which had a moss green door. He had expected that she was still sleeping, but he stepped inside the room only to find that it was empty.

He heard a door closing behind him and whirled around to find Aurora standing next to the bathroom door utterly stunned.

"Father?!" she gasped, clutching her bath towel closer in her chest.

Her face looked fresh and clean. Her hair, dripping wet, some strands of it sticking in her skin.

Father Azrael was surprised himself. Never had he expected that this would be the scene that would welcome him. He stared at her, trying his best not to let his eyes unconsciously roam on more dangerous territories. Her dripping hair was distracting him however. The beads of water created a curvaceous stream along her neck. It was unbearable not to even notice.

He heaved a sigh, wanting to leave her room immediately, but his eyes caught a very familiar brown mark peeking out of her wet locks.

What the?! he thought out aloud.

Aurora felt tensed when he suddenly stepped closer to her, his eyes blazing with fire. Then, his right hand lifted up looking as if he was going to touch her cheeks.

"Father Azrael?"

She distanced herself, stepping backwards until her back touched the bathroom door.

He didn't say anything. He just continued to close the space between them and cleared the wet strand covering the mark in her neck. His fingers brushed her skin lightly, and she could feel the warmth on it — a delicious warmth after being in a cold shower. He inspected the mark, tilting her head at the same time. Then, his teeth clenched as he recognized it immediately.

"Father Azrael!" she shouted in a louder tone, quickly pulling her hair back to hide the mark.

His hand froze in the air as he saw her sending him a frightened glare. This time, he knew he scared her. Heaving a sigh, he stepped backward.

"I thought I instructed the nuns to let you rest. Why are you up and about?" he questioned her as if nothing had happened.

She took a deep breath and answered in a calm voice, "I have work Father. I need to be there in half an hour."

She crossed the room and into her closet.

"Bishop Elliot had already arranged that matter Aurora. Don't tell me that because I know you are on leave."

"I can't just lie around and do nothing."

She pulled a pair of jeans, a blue blouse, and then the mint green scarf fr

sworn testimony that Mr. Lafton had raped them during their senior years. Right now, many comments in the social media sites have stated their disgust on the principal and had expressed happiness that he is dead.

One might ask. Is this the work of the demon? Was Mr. Lafton driven by its power to harass these poor students? Whatever the truth is, one thing is clear - the terror principal's reign has finally ended thanks to the efforts of our apostolic society in fighting off the demon's not only in our streets, but also in our hearts.

This is Darcy Cheng reporting live in the Today's News....

Bishop Elliot lowered the volume of the television after the flash report.

He sat on his usual office chair while Father Azrael stood across him with a grim look on his face.

"I have already sent Father Daniels to the Vatican to send your reports to the Holy Pope in person. Surely, that would clear things up, " Bishop Elliot stated as he stood and walked in a nearby food tray. Pouring a liberal amount of wine from the crystalline decanter in his wine flute came easy for him. He had wanted to ease the tension in his muscles since early morning and the wine was the perfect course for it.

"Yes, it would, " Father Azrael responded bluntly.

"It's a good thing that that part of his life was cultivated up. At least it would absorb all the shock about his peculiar death."

"There was nothing I can do. He attacked Aurora with still some degree of human sense remaining in him. The demon was only just feeding on his desire, " he reasoned without any hint of concern. For him, killing a human like the principal was commensurate to killing a demon. These kinds of men didn't deserve to live. Death was always a preferable choice. But who was he to judge when he had his own tumultuous soul to deal with?

"I understand that part now. I, however, don't understand its presence, " the Bishop replied, sitting back on his chair. "Father Eshamael had already exorcised the demon months ago, but you investigate the school now only to find that it is still fastening itself on the principal."

Father Azrael waltzed across the room and settled himself on his now favorite area of the Bishop's office — the window — where he could see the orphanage house downhill.

"You see Bishop, demons are unpredictable creatures, " he started after staring long and hard on Aurora's open windowsill. The inside of the room showed no evidence of her presence, hinting that she was still at work. "However, we do know their tastes. And their tastes are the same. Innocence and negativity. Children are mostly the targets because they are easy. They are innocent. Adults, however, is a different matter. Demons live and feed with negative emotions created by humans. The more these negative emotions build up, the more they can harvest... the more they are stronger... and the harder it is to exorcise them. It would be easy for them to transfer from one host to another, but if they have already bonded with a human being, they would return to them without hesitation. Call it parasitism, but that is how a demon's mind works."

Bishop Elliot's mouth was agape. "Oh, you do know your craft well Father, " he remarked.

"I do..." he answered.


He wanted to add that last word, but refrained. How could he not know the works of their minds when he is a demon himself?

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