The Crooked God Inside: Exorcism Files from Saint Somabra Ward

Season 1

CHAPTER 1: THE FIRST ECHO

St. Somabra Psychiatric Hospital - January 19, 1985 - 3:46 AM

Leaked Tape: “Interview Room C – Father Marris”

Transcript Log #: E-13–001

“What you’ll hear on that tape.. it’s not a voice. It’s a mirror turned inside-out.

And if you’ve ever believed in anything .. God, medicine, your own name -

..it’ll stop answering after that sound.”

The first sound wasn’t a scream.

It was a scratch. Like a dry twig dragged across a porcelain basin. Over and over. Until blood was drawn not from skin, but memory.

Father Marris paused the tape.

He sat back in his chair at Interview Room C of St. Somabra’s admin wing, fingers shaking against the rusted playback dial. The room around him smelled like stale prayer and lemon bleach .. the hospital’s attempt at dignity after decades of rot.

The tape had been found beneath the bed of Patient 43A .. Emily Roan .. after her final seizure. And unlike the others, this one wasn’t just static or muttering or guttural noise.

It was a pattern.

A message.

THE GIRL WHO BROUGHT HER OWN ECHO

Emily Roan had been admitted 7 months earlier.

Fifteen years old.

No prior psych history.

Catholic orphanage background.

Found outside a burned-down chapel, mouthing Latin into a tree trunk.

By week two, she had:

• Dislocated her own jaw during sleep (twice)

• Rewritten The Lord’s Prayer backward, on a pillowcase, with blood from her ears

• Spoken in the voice of a nurse who’d died in 1976

But nothing scared the staff more than what she said to Father Marris during his first visit:

“My God used to be yours too.

But then yours grew old and started forgetting his bones.”

THE TAPE

The sound that played from the tape was.. wrong. Not evil. Not even chaotic.

Just impossibly inside. Like it had always existed somewhere behind the cochlea .. waiting for the right frequency to remember.

It began with scratching.

Then sobbing.

Then a chorus of doctors, speaking in unison:

“Soma non est sana. Memoria est lingua daemonum.”

(The body is not healed. Memory is the tongue of demons.)

Then: a child’s giggle.

Then: silence.

And then, the echo.

THE HOLLOW SPEECH

The voice that followed didn’t just sound like Emily.

It sounded like Emily’s voice being rebuilt from dead tissue, syllable by syllable:

“Father Marris.

Do you know where your spleen ends?

That’s where I learned your prayer.”

His hands went numb.

The speaker vibrated as if trying to crawl away from itself. And when he looked at the wall-mounted crucifix above the tape deck, the silver body of Christ had tilted - mouth open wider than before.

He turned off the tape.

FILE REDACTIONS

According to the official report, Room C was sealed the following morning.

Father Marris took leave.

Emily Roan was pronounced brain-dead 24 hours later .. despite her lips still moving.

She was the first case.

She was not the last.

EXCERPT FROM THE DOCTOR’S NOTEBOOK

(Dr. Sylas Velter, Chief of Psychiatry - written in blue pencil)

"We thought we were treating a schizophrenic.

We were sterilizing the cathedral."

CHAPTER 1 ENDS WITH:

A janitor claims he saw Emily walking the hall after her death, whispering into a bedpan.

The tape has since been lost. But two staff members who heard it later had identical brain hemorrhages.

And in Room C, no sound recordings last longer than 19 seconds.

Chapter 2: “The Organs That Spoke Her Name”

Saint Somabra Hospital - Autopsy Sublevel B - January 21st, 1985 - 2:42 AM

Internal Report Log #: X-43 - Dr. Sylas Velter

Subject: EMILY ROAN (Patient 43A)

“If the body stores trauma…

…what happens when it starts replying?”

THE AUTOPSY THAT NEVER HAPPENED

Technically, they were never supposed to open her up.

Emily Roan had been classified “non-biological brain death” .. a legal gray zone that blurred the line between science and supernatural paralysis. Her pupils were blown. Her reflexes absent. Her breathing shallow and arrhythmic, yet sustained.

But her mouth never stopped moving.

Dr. Sylas Velter broke protocol and initiated a private exam beneath Sublevel B ... a floor reserved for long-term anatomical studies. The cameras were off. The notes were kept on red-lined paper. The attending nurse, Leila Cohen, would later suffer amnesia localized to one hour of that night.

The table was cold.

The air smelled like antiseptic and grave moss.

Emily’s chest rose and fell like a puppet's breath ... measured, automatic, and entirely wrong.

SURGICAL FINDING #1: THE LATIN KNOT

The scalpel touched her chest. No blood.

Just a faint sound.

A hum.

As Dr. Velter cut through the upper sternum, her exposed organs revealed something no living person had ever documented:

A Latin word had formed in the folds of her intestines, looping perfectly through the curvature like an anatomical rosary:

“NON REVERTAR”

(I will not return)

The tissue hadn’t been carved. It had grown that way.

As if her body had begun praying to itself.

SURGICAL FINDING #2: THE SECOND VOICE

Her lungs were next.

Velter used a micro-suction unit to separate the lobe tissue when a faint sibilant tone echoed from her trachea.

Not her voice.

Not any one voice.

But two voices, layered .. one speaking forward, the other in perfect reverse.

“Inhale.. me.”

“Emerge.. limb.. child..”

Nurse Cohen dropped her instrument tray and ran. She later claimed she saw her mother’s mouth inside Emily’s thoracic cavity .. lips forming words no one remembered teaching.

Velter stayed.

He recorded the sound and stored it on Tape E-13–002, now presumed destroyed.

SURGICAL FINDING #3: THE WHISPERING HEART

Her heart was healthy.

In fact, too healthy.

The organ beat at a slow, monk-like pace ... and when Velter placed the diaphragm of his stethoscope against the left atrium, he didn’t hear pumping.

He heard syllables.

“Crooked.. god.. echo.. light… me.. through..”

The heartbeat followed prayer rhythm ... six syllables, pause, three syllables, pause.

Like a mantra.

Or a spell.

The walls of the room began to sweat.

And in the observation mirror behind them, something moved. Not a figure. Not a person. Just a shadow that had joints in the wrong places.

AUTOPSY REPORT: NEVER FILED

Dr. Velter recorded his notes and tagged the body for containment, not burial. Emily’s organs were not cataloged. Her chest was sewn shut, but with black thread, not hospital standard.

Velter resigned two days later.

Nurse Cohen never returned.

The surgical theater in Sublevel B was shut down permanently.

On the final page of his private journal, Velter wrote:

“We did not dissect her.

She revealed herself.”

TAPE RECOVERY

A student aide named Jonah recovered Tape E-13–002 months later while clearing Velter’s desk. He played the tape at home.

He was later admitted to St. Somabra as Patient 67B, suffering from persistent delusions that his own liver was speaking the name ‘Emily’ during REM sleep.

CHAPTER 2 ENDS WITH:

The hospital is now treating three more patients who display identical traits:

• Mouth movement during unconsciousness

• Organ-generated audio frequencies

• Visions of a “twisted infant made of light and ribs”

They are kept in the same wing.

And every night, all three patients point toward the vent above the surgical room and mouth the same phrase:

“She’s still remembering her shape.”

Chapter 3 : The Echo Ward

Saint Somabra - South Isolation Wing (Echo Ward) - January 23rd, 1985 – 1:09 AM

Ward Observation Log #ECHO-03, Restricted Staff Access Only

Filed by: Nurse Tilda Rehn

“Three patients. One sound.

And somehow, they all knew each other’s dreams.”

THE LOCKED WING THAT NEVER EXISTED

Official blueprints of Saint Somabra don’t mention South Isolation. It was built in 1968 after the “Clavicle Incident” - a patient revolt that left four staff dismembered ... and sealed two years later when seventeen patients refused to stop humming the same Gregorian chant in unison.

It was reopened ... unofficially ... to house Emily Roan’s “echoed cases.”

There were now three:

1. Patient 67B - Jonah Elswick - 22, former medical student

2. Patient 44F - Nyra Baptiste - 19, mute since age 11, now speaking in reversed French

3. Patient 18G - Harold “Bunk” Cray - 64, diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, known for drawing surgical diagrams he claimed were ‘taught to him by his stomach’

Each had their own cell.

Each had their own cameras.

Each, at exactly 1:11 AM, whispered the exact same phrase.

“She echoes now through us.”

SHARED SYMPTOMS - UNCONNECTED LIVES

• Jonah had no contact with Emily prior to her death.

• Nyra had never spoken until Emily’s “autopsy.”

• Bunk had been in Saint Somabra since 1973, yet his drawings now contained Emily’s name in the surgical margins.

But all three patients began exhibiting:

• Tongue etching: Skin peeled back from their own tongues, revealing symbols beneath.

• Organ-led speech: They spoke only during REM sleep .. and only in the voice of Father Marris, who had now gone missing.

• Cavity Resonance: During one session, a metal spoon placed against Jonah’s ribs vibrated and repeated the word “Return.”

THE INCIDENT: NIGHT THREE

Nurse Rehn logged the event as a “collective dream seizure.”

At 1:11 AM, all three patients sat upright simultaneously.

Nyra opened her mouth and a second mouth was visible beneath her tongue ... whispering Latin.

Jonah levitated 3 inches off his mattress.

Bunk began to bleed from the nose, eyes, and sutures in his abdomen ... despite never having had abdominal surgery.

And on the hallway walls outside their rooms, black fluid began leaking from the vents.

Security was called.

The footage from that night exists.

But the sound cuts out at 1:12 AM and returns at 1:31 AM.

When the sound returned, all three patients were unconscious.

The wall vent had the words:

“DO NOT FIX HER NAME”

...scrawled in bile.

MISSING MINUTES

Staff report strange phenomena in the “mute” minutes of footage:

• One nurse saw herself on the monitor instead of the patient.

• A janitor reported hearing Emily’s voice... coming from his own lungs.

• The hall clock read “25:09.”

CHAPTER 3 ENDS WITH:

Patient Jonah wakes up briefly.

He asks a question:

“If she’s not a ghost.. then what part of me is hers now?”

Before slipping back into sleep, he removes a tooth from under his tongue ... one he didn’t know he had.

It’s engraved with a tiny Latin phrase:

“Fiat ossis lumen.”

(Let bone become light.)

And then the ward lights explode.

CHAPTER 4 : Father Marris's Donor Form Was Blank

Saint Somabra - Archives Wing (Locked Cabinet B13) - February 3rd, 1985 – 12:11 AM

Clerical Addendum: Internal Investigation Report

Filed by: Dr. Anaelle Voss (Records Examiner)

“Before he vanished, Father Marris claimed:

‘I was never born. I was composed.’”

THE VANISHING PRIEST

Father Elias Marris was the hospital’s unofficial chaplain, brought in during Emily Roan’s early spiral to consult on spiritual matters.

Six days after Emily’s autopsy, he disappeared.

His last known act: signing his own organ donor form and placing it ... unsigned by any witness ... into the red dropbox outside Records.

But the form was blank.

Except for a single phrase under “Organ Preferences”:

“Any that remember.”

Dr. Anaelle Voss, tasked with inventory of the donor files, found Marris’s entry physically present, but digitally nonexistent.

The barcode didn’t scan.

The paper felt wrong ... porous like untreated skin.

It reacted to heat by producing a faint ammonia scent, and when she photocopied it, the machine jammed and bled ink.

That night, Voss began hearing Latin in her right ear ... even though she didn’t speak the language.

THE LETTER HE NEVER MAILED

Tucked inside Marris’s locker was an envelope labeled simply:

"TO HER."

Inside was a single page. Handwritten. In mirror script. It read:

“The god did not enter Emily.

She was the womb for its NAME.

And once a name is born, it cannot die.”

There was no signature, but the letter was warm.

Still warm.

As if fresh from inside a body.

That’s when Voss noticed her stethoscope vibrating on her desk.

She picked it up and placed it against the envelope.

The letter had a heartbeat.

SHOCKING CORRESPONDENCE: PASTORAL FILE 219

While tracing Marris’s history, hospital staff unearthed an earlier psychiatric intake form from 1974, under the alias “Eli Morass.”

It was the same man.

In that file:

• He listed no birth date.

• No family history.

• But under “Known allergies”, he wrote:

“Cannot tolerate prayer while uncontained.”

He was admitted for tongue lesions shaped like Hebrew letters, and claimed to have been born inside a confessional booth during a stillbirth exorcism in Avignon, France.

The file contained a drawing:

A fetus-shaped cross, composed of bone segments with six names in Latin embedded down the spine:

“Ossis, Nomen, Lux, Verum, Mors, Iterum.”

(Bone, Name, Light, Truth, Death, Again)

WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS ORGANS?

Three days later, someone tried to file Marris’s organ donor card again ...this time under a different ID.

The handwriting matched Emily’s.

And on the same day, Jonah Elswick’s liver scan revealed a suture pattern identical to Marris’s pre-disappearance scar.

Jonah had received no transplant.

Yet his liver bore Marris’s birthmark.

CHAPTER 4 ENDS WITH :

Dr. Voss files a containment report and sends the blank donor form to Storage Unit X4.

Two hours later, it reappears on her desk.

But this time, it’s signed.

Not by Marris.

But by Emily Roan.

In a handwriting sample taken post-autopsy.

And below the signature:

A new phrase appears, not in ink but raised through the page like Braille carved by fingernail:

“He is inside her memory now. And she is leaking.

Stay Tuned For Season 2..Out This Thursday...

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"This tale is spun from threads of global whispers...half-heard warnings, fractured folklore, and the chilling ‘what if’ that lingers after midnight. While shadows of real accounts may flicker through these pages, every character, curse, and creeping horror is a work of original dark encounters with a touch of fiction and any resemblance to actual events, Name, Place, things....past or present...is purely accidental and Co-incidental, a trick of the light, or proof that truth often imitates the uncanny. Names, places, and unsettling occurrences are conjured from the void...not the record. Proceed with curiosity (and maybe a nightlight).

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