The Priest's fingers spit out holy water, which sizzles on the walls. He circles the living room chanting useless words from a book. The Victim is sitting on the sofa, rocking, smelling like sweat and death. And I am waiting unseen on the ceiling.
"Begone demon!" The Priest yelled.
The demand makes me smile. Weak Priest. The Victim is mine. And they will have their endless nightmares, blood-letting scratches, and my wicked whispers. They will see the images of my twisted, contorted, vile body.
I am their Hell, Priest.
I won't leave...
because I'm still rotting in the basement.
About the Creator
K. Kocheryan
I write, delete, write, and on most days, delete again.
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31 Days of October Writing Prompts
October is right around the corner, and what better month to inspire creativity and story? For this year, I decided to create daily writing prompts for the month for inspiration to exercise the writing brain. To have fun with putting down whatever comes through the pen—or if a sudden urge comes along, a paintbrush.
By K. Kocheryan3 years ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Wow that last line really sealed it. Nicely done!