"
So, Nolan. We meet again,
" the demon said. Its eyes glittered in the semi-darkness that permeated the bedroom. The curtains had been drawn across the windows that overlooked Park Avenue, allowing the shadows to reign supreme. Horns curved away from its face, angling back toward the bed's padded head board.
"Oh? We know each other?" Nolan put his bag on the nightstand beside the bed and cracked it open. Inside lay everything he would need, though a detailed inspection might produce some interesting results. Amidst the vestments, stoles, bottles of holy water, and other religious talismans were things such as bandages, tourniquets, and lubricants. Not exactly the kind of things a casual observer might expect a priest of all people to be carrying about. Nolan removed his dark overcoat and folded it over once before placing it on the nightstand. He still wore the black garb of Catholic clergy, even though he'd unofficially left the order more than a decade before. The only difference was the tab in my collar wasn't white. It was red.
"
In a way. Your reputation precedes you.
" The demon smiled lupinely, wearing the body of twenty-two year old Jeremy Prentiss like a set of clothes. "
I've...heard of you, you fucking sodomite,
" the demon added a moment later, the last word expressed with a hiss.
Nolan wasn't really interested in conversation. The demons always lied, and while it was possible he had exorcised the abomination previously, Nolan rather thought he hadn't. It would already know it was going to lose, and this one seemed too cocksure.
"Then you know you should be very afraid," I said. "The terror you've brought to this boy's family is nothing compared to what your masters will do to you once I send you back to Hell."
"
You'll do no such thing, phony holy man,
" the demon said with a sneer. "
You think your crucifixes, your holy water, your stoles and vestments mean anything to me?
" It released a dry cackle. "
What kind of exorcist are you?
"
"Oh, I'm an exorcist, all right," Nolan said. "But not like one you've ever met before."
The demon wearing Jeremy Prentiss's body was already tied down to the bed, a four-poster affair that had crucifixes attached to each post. The demon had already played with them; each symbol was now upside down, inverted despite the tape that was supposed to hold them in place. Hands and feet were bound, and the demon lay spread-eagle beneath the thin sheet that covered it. The air in the darkened room as cold, cold enough that Stephen Nolan could see his breath clouding before him. He removed a bible from his bag, then draped the holy sacramental stole over his black jacket. Though he was no longer part of the order, Nolan still worked as God's agent on Earth, and the accoutrements of the Faith were still his to wear.
He regarded the pale figure beneath the sheet. Jeremy Prentiss was the scion of a financial management company, an organization his father had built up starting in the early 1970s. His family was now worth billions, and Jeremy had been following in his father's footsteps as a star student at Princeton. But now, he'd been fingered by the dark forces. Jeremy Prentiss, a future chieftain of the financial world, had been possessed by a demon.
The family had tried everything, of course. All the usual medical and psychiatric routes. Medications, therapy, mental health techniques, all the great things mankind had come up with to combat the ills of the world. But some of those ills couldn't be handled by technology or science. They were beyond the scope of man. Some of these things had to be handled by a higher power. Or in the case of Jeremy Prentiss...a higher power's agent.
"Let's begin, shall we?" Nolan asked. His voice was deep.
The demon smirked. "
Let's begin, shall we?
" it repeated, and its voice was exactly like Nolan's. "
So polite. Try not to bore me, Christian fake.
"
Nolan sighed and with his right hand signed the cross. The demon watched him with glittering eyes, then abruptly looked away. Nolan noticed this.
"The sign of the Father causes you distress, does it?" he asked.
"
The sign of your cock-sucking God makes me sleepy.
" The demon brightened slightly. "
Did you know Mary took it up the ass? That's why she was still a 'virgin', if you buy that.
"
"I hadn't known that, no."
The demon cackled. "
She and poor Jeremy have that in common. He takes it up the ass too, only he takes it from black men.
"
Nolan shrugged. "Well. Things change."
The demon smiled at him slavishly. "
You want to try, cocksucker? You
are
a cocksucker, aren't you? Isn't that why you're not with the order any longer?
"
Nolan tilted his head, momentarily intrigued. "You want to find out?"
"
Jeremy would be so disappointed to have a fifty-seven year old white cocksucker going down on him,
" the demon said. "
Truly, 'Father'...think of the child!
"
Nolan snorted and signed the cross again four times, once from each corner of the bed. The demon shifted about slightly beneath the sheet, trying to mask its discomfort. Its beady eyes followed Nolan as he moved, and the beast grunted as it released a loud, dry fart.
"
A little potpourri for your trouble, 'Father,'
" it snarled.
"Hey, shit the bed if you want. You're the one lying in it."
"
You could always join me, cocksucker. I'll have you know, Jeremy can hump and pump for hours.
"
"Yeah, sure. Hold that thought." Nolan ripped the sheet off the demon, exposing the entirety of Jeremy's body. In full health, he had been quite the specimen. Sculpted muscles which had been defined from a lifetime of gyms and personal trainers and a low-fat diet. He was a broad-shouldered, broad-chested sort, his trunk swooping down into a meticulously crafted six pack. His hips were narrow, but his thighs were broad. He'd lost a bit of body mass during the possession, mostly from lack of eating and spending the better part of two weeks bound to a bed. But just the same, the dark-haired young man was still a prime specimen of humanity.
"
Check out the size of his pecker,
" the demon said. "
Tough to believe he's a catcher, not a pitcher. With that thing, he'd be the belle of the ball, so to speak...if he'd only use it. A waste, no?
"
Nolan did take a moment to look. Even flaccid, Jeremy's cock was impressive, lying limp against his left thigh beneath the patch of crisp, black pubic hair that adorned his pubis.
"Yeah, it's a winner," he said.
"
I figured you'd think so, cocksucker.
" The demon laughed dryly. "
By the way, I'll supply the holy water. My treat.
"
Jeremy's cock stirred as the demon suddenly pissed all over the bed. Nolan reached out and grabbed the thick penis and pointed it away from him. The demon howled with laughter.
"
That's right, grab that cock--the first thing a Catholic priest would do! You know you want it, faggot!
"
Nolan held onto the thick penis until the stream of urine slowly faded. He eased himself into a sitting position and looked directly at the demon's face.
"Anyway. Let's continue, shall we?"
"
While you're holding onto a guy's cock? Sure, why not.
"
"How's your Latin?"
"
How's your sphincter control, faggot?
"
Nolan smiled. Keeping his eyes on the demon's, he began. "
Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio et colluctatione, quae nobis adversus principes et potestates,
" he said in perfect Latin as he commenced the Prayer to Saint Michael, an exorcist's primary weapon. As he spoke, he slowly stroked his hand up and down the demon's penis, keeping his touch as light as a butterfly's. The demon growled and writhed, baring its teeth as it glared at him with hate in its eyes. "
Adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritualia nequitiae...in caelestibus.
"
The demon snarled. "
Your fucking prayer is a load of shit, Nolan! You know your revered Michael is getting buggered by Astarath right now, don't you? He was a fucking kid toucher!
"
"So Astarath is your patron?" Nolan said. "Thanks for that."
The demon made a strangled sound and looked away from him. Nolan smiled. He was dealing with a demon now, not a devil. While both were bad, demons could be dealt with more directly. Devils required hours and hours, if not weeks and weeks, of small talk. Demons were chaotic evil, and they sought to destroy. Devils were aligned evil, and they sought to corrupt. Both were equally bad for humanity, but in this case Nolan's plan of attack wouldn't have to depend on sleight of hand. He could start work immediately.
Thank God for small favors,
he thought.
"Come to the aid of men, whom God created immortal," Nolan continued, switching over to English. "Made in his own image and likeness, and redeemed at a great price from the tyranny of the devil."
The demon hissed as it strained against the bonds that held it spread-eagle on the bed. "
Your Michael eats Lucifer's shit, and licks Mephistopheles's balls! Your puny prayer is like a bad poem, full of nothing but bullshit!
" The demon suddenly became aware of Nolan's slow, gentle ministrations on its penis. The organ was slowly beginning to become erect, stiffening against Nolan's palm. "
Faggot preacher...why are you touching my cock?
" it asked.
"Seems like you're into it," Nolan said. He ran his thumb beneath the head, stroking the sensitive nerves there. "I figured I'd give you something to distract you while I recite my 'bad poem.'"
"
You'll never make it hard as long as I'm in this body, Nolan. I control this pitiful lump of flesh. Trust me, you're wasting your faggot time.
"
"I don't know about that," Nolan said as he increased the frequency of his motion. "Seems like you're popping a stiffy here. A
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