The Xxxorcism of Scarlett Foxett

A mundane, run-of-the-mill cul-de-sac had found its typically tranquil, monotonous nature in shatters. Following the death of one of the residents, some time had passed before her home was sold, and the new homeowner had slowly been getting settled into their new home. The former homeowner had no executor, no next of kin, and no known family, so her possessions had been auctioned off by a local auctioneer, however not all the items sold. Whatever wasn't sold was returned to the home, right where it was left by the former owner, which mostly consisted of décor of questionable taste - countless pieces of erotic art.

All had been well for Scarlett - the new owner - for the first few weeks as they got moved and settled in until things had taken a turn for the strange. Items had been found in places she didn't remember leaving them, cupboards and doors seemed to be opening of their own volition despite their being no draught, and she had been hearing unusual noises - particularly at night - which had been getting increasingly more frequent and louder. She was also sure she had even

seen

something move by itself and sometimes had the eerie feeling that she was being watched.

Scarlett had befriended her next-door neighbour and told them about what had been going on, just to be sure that someone knew about it in case anything drastic happened - which, on this night, it did. This night, quiet up until this point, was pierced by a blood-curdling scream originating from Scarlett's house. That friend, who was fortunately home at the time, heard the scream and instantly dropped what they were doing, and sprinted out their front door. Their door crashed against the frame, swinging back closed behind them, and they ran across their front lawn and leapt over the picket fence separating their property from Scarlett's, and made a beeline for her door, and there were more screams before she got there.

Scarlett herself had not long gotten home from a quick trip to the grocery store, and she had not locked her front door yet, something her friend took advantage of. The screaming continued as they barged through the front door, following the sound of the shrieks up the stairs and then into Scarlett's bedroom, where they found her. She was in a frenzy, aggressively convulsing and throwing her body around the room, on and off the bed, and her friend tried her utmost to communicate with her.

"Scarlett?!" they said loudly, though she did not respond. "Scarlett!!!"

They shouted louder, and suddenly Scarlett stopped her turmoil and looked toward her friend. Her friend looked back at her and into her eyes, and what and who they saw was not their friend, was not Scarlett. They took a step backwards subconsciously, their mind telling them that it wasn't safe for them to be in here with her, then they retreated out of the room, swiftly closed the door, and barricaded it shut. This wasn't something they could do alone.

The friend ran back down the stairs and out of the house and made their way around the rest of their neighbours to get help, banging on their doors and getting anyone who was willing to help to come along with them. After a few neighbours willingly followed and more shut and locked their doors in their faces, the small group ran back to Scarlett's house, in through the open door, and up the stairs to the barricaded bedroom. They moved the makeshift barrier out of the way, then tentatively opened the door to Scarlett's bedroom.

They stepped inside, finding Scarlett hunched over in the corner, whimpering, her clothes no longer upon her body and instead in a pile beside her. "Scarlett...?" her friend attempted to communicate with her calmly, "It's Zoe, we're here to help you."

Scarlett's whimpering stopped, then she slowly turned around and looked at her friend, and still, in her eyes, there was no sign of Zoe's friend.

"Scarlett?"

She didn't respond and, a moment later - almost in a flash - Scarlett lunged over the bed and at her friend. She pounced upon Zoe like a wild animal, clawing at her, and the rest of the group immediately jumped in to restrain the mad woman. Scarlett was staggeringly strong - her strength seemingly amplified by whatever was going on - not to mention fierce, and despite their greater number, the group struggled to overpower her. But, after a short struggle, overpower her they did. Two of them managed to get her onto the bed and hold her arms down, while the other two - including Zoe - found whatever they could to restrain her.

They rummaged through her drawers to find whatever would work, eventually finding things that would suffice, and they frantically tied Scarlett to the bed by her wrists, binding them to the bedposts at the top end of the bed, leaving her unable to get free. The group panted as they caught their collective breath as Scarlett struggled against the restraints keeping her bound before one of them let their feelings be known.

"What the fuck?!" the man exclaimed, still wheezing, "What the fuck was

that

?!?!"

Scarlett snarled at them, writhing in place on the bed, the restraints doing their job.

"Somebody go grab a blanket or something," said Zoe, and one of the group set off in search of one, ransacking a couple of cupboards on the landing, and finding one quite quickly. They came back into the room, unfurled the blanket, and then placed it over the naked Scarlett because while they were protected from her thanks to the restraints they'd put on her, her modesty wasn't protected from them. "Thank you," Zoe expressed before the group's attention turned to her.

"Care to explain just what the

fuck

that was all about?" one of them asked their unelected but designated ringleader, with more than just a hint of exasperation in their tone, though Zoe couldn't really give them a straight answer.

"I..." she started, herself unsure what was going on, though having an idea of what it might be even if it sounded unbelievable, "...I don't know."

"You're her friend," one of them commented, "You know her better than we do - just what have you two been up to?"

"Nothing!" Zoe defended herself, "I've just been helping her settle in and feel more comfortable in her home, and been someone to support her."

"What has she needed support with?" one of them probed, curious just what the two had gotten up to since Scarlett moved in, suspicious that it was something illegal.

"Well..." she started, "Ever since she moved in, she's been experiencing weird things around the house..." explained Zoe.

"What sort of weird things?" another one of the group asked.

"You know, the sort of things you see on TV - hearing weird noises, objects moving on their own, doors opening on their own, feeling like you're being watched..."

"So, you're telling us that this house is haunted? That there's a poltergeist?"

"I don't know," said Zoe, "All I know is that it had not just been getting more and more frequent over the past few days, but worse too. Yesterday, Scarlett told me that she was sure she saw something..."

"Saw '

something

'?" one of them queried.

"A figure," answered Zoe.

"What, that of a person? Like a shadow?"

"Yeah," continued Zoe, "It's been freaking her out ever since she moved in, and she told me that she thought the house was haunted."

"Are we sure she's not just superstitious and imagining these things?" one of them tried to think of a scientific explanation.

"I don't think so, because I'm sure I've heard some things too, coming from her house," Zoe revealed, "Things I've not heard before."

"Are we suggesting that she has been, you know,

possessed

by this figure, by this spirit?"

"I don't know how else to explain it," reasoned Zoe, "I've never seen anything like it before."

The group looked at each other, and then at Scarlett - the bound woman still scowling and sneering at them - and they all saw something in her eyes that convinced them they were right.

"What do we do?" one of them questioned, none of them having been in such a situation before; it was the blind leading the blind.

"What

can

we do?" another asked, which was perhaps a more pertinent question. This was beyond any of their expertise, and anything more they did other than simply tie Scarlett to the bed could have dire consequences for all they knew - they dared not even

try

and communicate with Scarlett

or

the spirit that had seemingly possessed her. What little they knew about how to manage and deal with a possessed person came from Hollywood, and the accuracy of what was depicted in such media was likely dubious at best.

Furthermore, only a couple of them were religious, and neither of them really practised it all that much, so there was every chance that their faith wouldn't be strong enough to... do whatever it was they needed to do, and they didn't know what that was. So, anything they had that even resembled a fleeting idea was a non-starter.

"Didn't one of the priests at the local denomination perform an exorcism once?" asked one of the semi-religious two to the other.

"Oh yeah; Father Tom," they replied with acknowledgement, "More than just one, if I recall - they claimed to be a specialist of sorts."

"Can you get in contact with him?" Zoe probed, confident that this was the only logical course of action.

"Not directly," said one of the holier pair, "But I can see if I can get his details from my priest."

Said pair left the room to make a phone call, and after a couple of minutes, they returned.

"Well?" queried Zoe.

"We managed to get his phone number," said one of the pair that had just returned.

"What did you say?" queried Zoe.

"Not too much, we just gave our priest some spiel about a relative knowing him and trying to get in touch," they said, "I'll go to confession on Sunday to be absolved of lying," reassuring themselves that the sin was justified on this occasion. "Do you think we should call him?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Scarlett's friend, "It's our best shot"

The group huddled around the phone, and they dialled the number, then pressed 'Call'. The phone rang, and rang, and rang, for much longer than they'd have liked, but, eventually, their call was answered.

"Hello?" a self-assured but well-mannered voice greeted them.

"Hello," Zoe spoke up, "Is that Father Tom?"

"Speaking," he confirmed, "And who might this be?"

"Hello, Father Tom, my name is Zoe, and I need your help."

Over the course of the next few minutes, Zoe briefly explained the situation to Father Tom, who listened intently, and gave him the address they were at - 666 Tombstone Grove. Perhaps the number of the house and the name of the street it was on should have raised some red flags to the new owner when they were buying it, and maybe it would have to the superstitious among us...

"I'll be there soon," said the man on the other side of the phone, "Don't let her out of your sight until I arrive."

*Click*

The phone line went dead, and the group turned their attention to Scarlett, and then they waited attentively. Their gaze occasionally jumped out through the bedroom window to the street below in search of a car, eagerly awaiting the priest's arrival, but otherwise they were locked onto the still-snarling Scarlett. Several cars passed by, but none stopped, and the group's anxiety grew with each vehicle that came and went that didn't have Father Tom behind the wheel.

***

In time, the vehicle they'd been waiting for arrived, pulling up on the curb and crawling to a stop right outside Scarlett's house. Zoe looked out of the window at the man who looked like a priest, stepping out of his car. "He's here."

Their collective mood lifted with his arrival, and Zoe ran downstairs to meet him. "Father Tom!" she shouted, "In here!"

Zoe ushered him into the house, the priest barely having time to bring his rosary beads and pocket bible with him, and directed him up the stairs, and he made haste to the room with the open door.

Zoe followed in behind him, and the group stood aside, relieved that there was now someone here who - supposedly - knew what to do, yet they were ready to help however they could. "If what you told me over the phone is true, then it is not safe for you to be here," Father Tom told the group, implying that they should leave.

"What do you mean it's not safe for us?" one of the group questioned, wanting to stick around and help, but also wary of the danger the priest informed them they were in.

"If what you say is true," he reaffirmed, looking into Scarlett's eyes returning him a look he both did not like and had seen before, "Then Scarlett has been possessed by a spirit - or worse, a demon." The group looked at each other in silence, processing what he had said. "I do not yet know what their intentions are or what it is capable of - it is not safe for you to be here."

"But, Father, we can help," interjected Zoe, not wanting to leave her friend, and not wanting to leave Father Tom alone with this dangerous entity.

"I'll be fine," he reassured them, "I've done this before - you haven't. Now, take your leave, and barricade the door behind you. You'll know when I'm done."

Like she had ushered the priest into the house, Zoe ushered the group out of the bedroom, closing the door behind them and barricading it. The group looked at each other, now even more powerless than they were before, then they made their way downstairs, occupying the living room, and there they waited. On the floor above them, Father Tom got to work.

"What are your intentions here, spirit?" he said, looking at Scarlett but directing his words to whoever was inside her. Scarlett - or rather the spirit inside her - looked back at Father Tom, still snarling, almost smirking, but didn't answer him. The priest paced from side to side, Scarlett's eyes following his every move, and he repeated his question, this time with a sterner tone in his voice. "What are your intentions here, spirit?"

Still nothing.

This wasn't unusual, as spirits could sometimes be stubborn and would need to be forced to communicate. Holding up his rosary beads, complete with a cross, Father Tom implored the spirit to answer him. "By the power vested in me by God, I

command

you to answer me," he bellowed, and Scarlett began to struggle and writhe on the bed, the spirit within her fighting the higher power the priest was using to get them to talk, but their fight was in vain.

"Hello, Father..." the spirit finally greeted him, and now that they were on speaking terms, Father Tom could learn more about who they were and what they wanted.

"Who are you?" he asked the spirit, and this time they answered.

"I am the former owner of this house," they said, which made sense. The former owner had not long passed away, and within this house too, so it was logical that was who'd possessed Scarlett. Usually, when the spirit lingers in a house, there is something they want or are waiting for before they move on, and until they get it, they are lost in a state of purgatory. Occasionally, spirits could be banished without fulfilling this want, and that was what Father Tom was going to try to do.

He began to recite a prayer, now holding both his rosary beads and his pocket bible aloft, to try and drive away and expel the spirit not only from Scarlett's body, but also from the limbo it had found itself in. Scarlett began to thrash as much as the restraints would allow her to, and at one point, Father Tom feared that they were going to give way. But hold they did, and he continued reciting his holy word, Scarlett still battling the ties, until the prayer was finished. "The power of Christ compels you!"

Scarlett fell limp, her struggling ceased, and Father Tom spoke to her.

"Scarlett?" he queried cautiously. "Miss Foxett, is that you?"

Scarlett smiled deviously, then looked at Father Tom. "Your prayers aren't going to help you here, Father!" the demonic presence exclaimed, laughing, not at all compelled by anyone's power, causing the priest to take a step backwards. "I am not going anywhere until I get what I want - only then can you have your precious Scarlett back..."

The prayer sadly hadn't worked, meaning that the clergyman was going to have to investigate what they wanted. "What are your intentions? What do you want here? What is keeping you here?" he asked them, again with a stern tone in his voice, yet his demeanour was calm.

"You're not going to like this, Father..." the fiend said gleefully, "But I most certainly am."

"Speak plainly," Father Tom beseeched, and the spectre obliged him.

"I'm not going anywhere unless I get

fucked

one... last... time - what I want is a

good

,

hard

,

fucking.

"

The priest fell silent, now aware of the type of entity he was dealing with - that of a wantonly lustful spirit. These spirits were usually - if not always - those of people who were sexually liberal, even if only with themselves or their partners. They were people for whom their sexuality was an important part of who they were, and people who loved all things

sex

.

When these people passed away and their souls journeyed to the afterlife, those who weren't totally sexually satisfied in life often refused to pass on, unless they could be satisfied one final time. This, of course, was out of Father Tom's remit, being a priest and all, however, he could find someone else to perform the ritual. "I can't do that," he explained to the spirit, "But I can find someone who can."

He took a step away from the bed and toward the door before the demon stopped him in his tracks.

"No no no, Father Tom..." she said, "I want it to be you... it

has

to be

you

..."

Father Tom froze and then looked at Scarlett. The look in her eyes had turned from one that was crazed, to one that was crazily horny. "I told you, I can't do that - I am a man of the cloth, you know what that means."

"Oh, I know, that's what's going to make it all the more fun, debauched, and taboo..."

"And what if I refuse?" queried the priest, assessing his options.

"Then poor little Scarlett here is going to be mine until she joins me in death."

The priest was between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, he had sworn an oath of celibacy when he became a man of the cloth, and doing what the spirit wanted would mean breaking his oath, and perhaps lead to exile from the church. On the other hand, the life of an innocent woman was on the line, a life which he had the power to save, and if he didn't save it, then would he have blood on his hands? By his very nature and by the word of his Lord, the right thing to do was the selfless thing, and so his mind - while not happy about it - was made up. He was literally going to have to fuck the

hell

out of her.

He looked at the naked woman on the bed, her modesty saved only by the towel that was covering her torso and upper half of her legs, and the ghoul attempted to coax him in further. "Why don't you remove this towel and take a look... see if that doesn't help persuade you? This Scarlett is quite something..." the demon said, licking her lips menacingly. Father Tom took a step closer toward the bed and Scarlett, and the spirit did not relent. "You're going to love what you see, I promise..."

Father Tom gulped, having not seen a naked woman in the flesh for countless years, and not sure about the morality of seeing the naked body of a woman who maybe didn't want him to see that. However, Scarlett herself had no say in the matter, and Father Tom was doing this to spare her life - it was in her best interests. The priest grabbed a hold of the corner of the towel and slowly tugged it off Scarlett's body, slowly revealing the nakedness beneath it, until the towel was out of the way and Scarlett was on full display.