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Chapter 112

INT. - RICHARDS HOUSE - NIGHT

Father Harry Schaefer's heart wasn't as young as it used to be. And he hadn't had a real possession to deal with in over ten years. What started out as a pretense to calm the parents had evolved quickly into this thrashing, screaming mess on the bed, a boy with the eyes of a demon.

Dear God, Father Harry thought. Protect me from my own foolishness.

A faint breeze washed over the back of the priest's neck from the open window as the boy's eyes flared from the cold, dull red of the demonic into normal human brown the moment before they flew wide, a gasp sucking terrified air into the young man's chest. Father Harry bent over the child as his lips moved, whispering, whispering. A demon trick, meant to lure the priest into its grasp. He knew better, learned better when he was just a young man himself and undergoing his training at The Vatican. But, he couldn't resist the panic in the child's eyes, the absolute terror.