The Exorcism of Conchita Cross

May 17, 2015:

The Magdalena watches over an exorcism but it seems to be only a beginning rather than an end.

New York

A cheap apartment block in New York.

Characters

NPCs: Father Jarvis, Conchita Cross

Mentions:

Mood Music: Suspiria


Fade In…

Magdalena can’t decide whether the chill of the night air is typical of New York in the spring or if it is caused by the exorcism happening ten feet away. Either way it causes her to pull her cloak a bit closer around her body and bring forward the hood a bit more. She is currently perched on a fire escape balcony railing and clad in full regalia – armed and armoured, the hood of the cloak keeping her face in shadow. Peering through a window a few feet along the wall of the cheap, crumbling apartment block, she watches a priest performing the rite of exorcism upon a young Latina girl who can’t be any more than thirteen years old. The priest, Father Jarvis she was briefed, is in his early fifties though he looks far older – the life of an exorcist can do that to you. The girl, Conchita Cross, has been tied to the small bed. Her body bucks and twists as she spits phlegm and curses at the priest. Her horrified mother, Sophia, watches on in horror.

If the Magdalena did not know that any official exorcisms have been vetted and researched before they can begin, she would be thinking that the girl has been watching too many horror films. It all seems overly dramatic from her experience but hers is not to judge but merely to serve. And if this is genuine then she is here to make sure the expelled demon really does leave. She glances up and down the dark alleyway – not a soul in sight – before looking back into the room to find Conchita has stopped her screaming and now just glares at the priest. The Holy Water that he splashes upon her small, frail frame making the girl hurl insults in return – in Latin. The Magdalena’s eyes open wider in surprise at what the girl is suggesting; can you even do that with a lit candle and two stoats?

And then Conchita slowly turns her head to stare at the Magdalena.

Father Jarvis is the only one present who knows she is here and he has no reason to tell the girl. He continues the ritual, ignoring where the girl’s eyes now watch. Conchita’s lips are pale and crusty with dried vomit and as they curl into an evil smile they start to crack and bleed. The girl even ignores the burning of the Holy Water upon her flesh; smoke rising as the skin cracks and splits.

‘We will feast on your soul’ boasts a voice in Magdalena’s head before Conchita laughs. It was not a girl’s voice but rather the deep, evil bass of Hell’s denizens. A voice at once alluring and detestable. Magdalena takes a deep breath and steels herself, her hand finding the hilt of her sword. A bottle is kicked along the pavement of the alley below and she looks down to see three figures standing at the entrance. Silhouettes against the streetlight behind them, their heads turn upwards in unison towards the Magdalena. Their eyes pinpricks of red in the shadows that hide their faces.

Magdalena looks back to the exorcism…only to find a demon’s face mere inches from her own. Its breath is the smell of death and corruption as it leers at her with lascivious red eyes. Drool seeps from its oversized mouth where a row of teeth jut out from the lower jaw like tusks. Its dark skin seems to shift and slide on its own volition as if it were skidding over the tissue and muscle below. ‘We shall see each other again…soon’ it growls in her mind rather than attempt to speak with such a deformed visage. And then it is gone; a blur of motion that descends and sweeps over the alley until there are now four silhouettes standing in front of the streetlight. The electric light flutters and then blows out, the glass shattering onto the pavement.

Inside the small apartment Sophia holds her daughter to her, sobbing with relief as Father Jarvis wanders nonchalantly over to the window and pulls it open. He takes a deep breath as he leans out but his features immediately screw up with distaste. “It came this way?” he asks softly, not looking at Magdalena though aware of where she is.

“It did. I think it was Kaymel. It joined three others in the alleyway.” Magdalena starts to stand. “I should get after them.”

Jarvis shakes his head. “They will be gone by now” he sighs. “I think we have played into its hands, Magdalena. The girl was just an instrument to get into our world and it wanted to be exorcised. To be freed into another form.”

“But the rite should have sent it back to Hell.”

“Should have” nods Jarvis with a frown, “But I think it is more than individual demons escaping Hell at work in New York. This is…planned. Prepared. Something is building. I think you will have much to do here.” A faint grimace at the thought. “May God be with you” he notes softly before glancing back at the mother and daughter. “At least one innocent soul is free…for now.”

Magdalena looks over at the family reunion and then back to Jarvis. “I shall escort you back to your church, Father” she informs him with no allowance for refusal. “They know you and they know your name. Even if they planned this, they will still want to destroy anyone who could send them back to Hell.”

“That may be so” Jarvis shrugs before finally looking over at her. “But I am not their biggest threat and they know that. Give me a moment to gather my things and say my ‘goodbye’ and then we can go. I do not think they will come back for the girl. Not this one. If there are four of them on the streets already then we can assume that at least another three will soon reveal themselves…or even another nine. It depends on what number they find important this time.” He frowns. “Let us hope that there is not another six hundred and sixty-two to arrive. I am not as young as I was.” A friendly smile for the Magdalena before he disappears back into the apartment.

The Magdalena does not smile. This is far too serious for that. There are already four demons out there in human form and she needs to find and destroy them before their unholy plans come to fruition. Whatever those plans may be.

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