Archive of Our Own ^beta

My Father’s blood rolls across the old oak desk and splashes onto the floor. I step away from him to watch the dark red pools grow large and shimmer in the low light. Small drips of crimson fall from the ritual knife that’s hot in my hand. His work was always more important to him than I ever was. He made my mother pay for his pride, and then I paid for it...And he got to go out into the sunlight and ‘save the innocents from the evils of this world’...

When I was about 13 or 14, I remember asking him about the nature of evil. He told me that evil ‘destroys the opportunity for life,’ that it ‘suppresses and oppresses human beings’...He told me that evil ‘sends us into the darkness—keeps us away from the light.’ When I so naïvely asked if ‘evil’ was what he does to me, he struck me in the face. He called me a blasphemer and told me I was filled with the darkness of hubris already—and he lamented dramatically about how he could have raised such a child. I cried. We got down on our knees right there and he prayed...

I hold my athame up to the small lamp light to examine his blood becoming sticky on the blade. I was innocent once. No one came to save me . I walked the underground halls alone, while the ‘dignified’ priest—the self righteous narcissist with treachery in his heart, slept in the house above me...and I’m sure he was a savior in his own dreams, too. And now...that treacherous blood of his stains the desk and the floorboards. After all these years, it was time. It was his turn to pay.

And Lorraine? In my mind I can see her running towards my altar. I walk slowly behind her in an adjoining section of corridor. The sound of her heavy breath and her willingness to destroy me now leaves psychic welts all over my body. How could I let her wriggle into my head? How did I ever think that I could be strong, stay in control, hold it together— remain as I was , if I got close to her? She thinks she can just shut me out? She thinks she can let me into her body and her memories—the very essence of her being—does she really think that I’d let her see every sad and ugly part of me if I was planning on ruining her? There was no deceit between us. Even if I can’t tell her about my original agreement with that disgusting demon...We’re bonded. She consented, and we’re bonded. Why does she think it would be so easy to ‘cut me off’? Does Lorraine actually believe that she could run from herself? These secrets, these seeds of truth, that she holds so deep within her...No, no...

I clearly wasn’t thinking when I first saw her. I should have expected this—I should have expected her to still cling to her normal-appearing husband, her socially acceptable identity...

I’ve put my trust in another selfish, shame-ridden, withholding, self righteous, Catholic —

I stop myself...

No, this woman...she’s nothing like my father. But damn it to hell, I won’t let her walk away needlessly! I feel the frustration seethe through me. I try to tamp down the acidic bile of my resentments, my jealousy—hoping that I won’t derail myself before finishing my tasks properly...I hate that this has to be so messy...I can’t lose her now...

I hear Ed Warren’s desperate voice falling down a shaft as I walk by. He calls out for her. My nervous system vibrates with electric-hot acuity. My skin and muscles are wrapped so tight around my bones that it hurts to inhale.

“I’m coming,” I whisper into Lorraine’s mind darkly. I watch her try to topple my heavy altar in vain.

I still have work to do...

All of the pieces are laid out for both rituals, I just need to execute the steps. And I need everyone’s cooperation...if their fear is loud enough—if this conflict is theatrical enough, it should blind the Demon Nun to what I’m really planning...and it will allow me to utilize the collective psychic charge between us all to accomplish my new, true task .

As I walk to one of the work lights that I’ve set out as a path marker, I hear Lorraine call out for her husband again. I close my eyes and splice into my connection to her mind.

I focus on what I want her to see:

The ground appears to shift beneath her feet...the room tips back and forth as if she’s on a small sailboat that’s being tossed by the sea...she falls to the ground, scrambling away from an unseen force...but then she sees a replica of herself before her—the Lorraine replica claws at the ground in tandem with her...the projection has its back turned—Lorraine watches herself, and she can’t escape the hallucination...

“You need to remember, Lorraine. You can’t run from yourself...you can’t run from me ,” I whisper sharply into her mind.

Lorraine finds her legs, panting, and pivots to run towards the light. The nearest light is the one that I stand by. She can’t see me, though I’m standing 20 feet in front of her. Lorraine’s Double chases behind her, and when Lorraine finally collides with my body, she doesn’t see me —she sees herself , with stone-colored eyes, her hair pinned up, wearing a structured black dress, black stockings, black boots...She screams at her own face. I’m ignited by the sharp peal of her screech inside of me—and the thunderous quavering in her lungs and throat as I hold her against me.

In her shock, Lorraine falls to the ground, and I fall on top of her. I straddle her waist and my dress rides up my thighs. The vulnerable place between my legs rubs against her stomach as she squirms beneath me, and I push my pleasure into Lorraine’s body. She sees her dark duplicate hovering above her, bearing down on her with a short knife. Lorraine fights against me with all of her arm strength—she pushes into me with her  Will.

I make her watch herself crawl naked to the center of my bed...her knees part seductively, just as she parted them for me, only hours ago. Lorraine seals her eyes closed, wincing away from the image.

“Look at me,” I say, taunting her, but when I speak, she only hears her own voice.

I draw her unbridled energy into my athame as she resists.

“Look at me,” her Double says again, sensually. I squeeze my thighs around her waist. She whimpers and writhes—her body is hot, and I feel my blood pulse hard in my pelvis as it presses against her white, floral shirt.

In her mind, she watches herself with her tongue between my slender legs; she sees us twined together, right there on the dirt floor. She drinks from me, enraptured—like she’s never had a drop of water in her entire life. Lorraine’s bright blue eyes flutter back in her head, and she moans hard. Her free hand caresses long lines of my pale skin.

“Shhhh...” I say quietly, coaxing her mind in close.

“...no...” she whimpers back, unable to escape the pull.

Yes. You did this. You can’t deny that you wanted me close to you...that you wanted me inside of you.

Lust and the urgency of my Will swirls steamily between us. I’m gratified to know that she will yield to this raw, undeniable bond...she will choose it for herself, over and over. But I am impatient now like I’ve never known myself to be.

Lorraine’s Double pins her to the wall of her own mind—the dark Double cuts Lorraine’s clothes from her body with the jerk of the short knife. Lorraine can’t push her excitement away...both of them are exposed to the other...a long seam forms over Lorraine’s sternum, and when the darkly red flesh parts, a thick jittering cloud of white butterflies erupts from her chest.

“Look at me...Open your eyes,” she hears herself urge.

Lorraine feels herself kneeling on a firm pillow, the tops of her bare feet are cold as they rest on the stone floor beneath her. She waits in silent darkness. She feels a presence, but she can’t see anything at all. And then she feels the gentle slide and burn and tug of ropes knotting around her breasts. Warm hands draw her arms behind her back and slide over the taut bond. With another sharp tug, her arms are tied to her ankles. She pants, afraid and aroused. She tries to pull against the rope and feels a bloated squeeze of blood pushing through her immobile limbs.

A little cry escapes her.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” she hears her own voice demand.

Candles roar to life in the pitch black space of her mind, and there before her—looking down at her helplessly bound body, is the Dark Lorraine.

‘Anywhere you go, I am there,’ I hear the Double say between the projections that I’ve created.

The projection takes on a life of its own, pulling from the catalogue of Lorraine’s thoughts and memories. I watch them unfold, intrigued...

‘This is my body...This is my blood...’

The Double reaches out to grip Lorraine’s chin firmly. The Hallucination presses its fingertips into Lorraine’s cheeks, prying her teeth apart.

‘Take this gift—eat and drink...’

The Double places two fingers into Lorraine’s mouth and rubs them suggestively against Lorraine’s dripping tongue.

‘Now, swallow this truth—the truth that you deny...’

The Double takes her fingers from Lorraine’s mouth and reaches down between Lorraine’s bare thighs.

‘The truth will set you free...’

Lorraine gasps and pants beneath me, wrenching herself from the trap that she made and fell into. My twisted delight and shameless provocation melts away from me suddenly, and I marvel at her strength...I pull that bright energy inside of the athame that I still hold above her head.

In the gap of my concentration, Lorraine is able to fight me again for dominance.

Lorraine sees her Double lick at the corner of her wet, shiny lips—and then my face flickers into her view.

“Open up,” she hears herself say. The Double leers down at her again, hungrily.

Lorraine pulls away from her inner world to push her focus into me again. The buttons of her shirt rub against me in a way that makes my thighs clench around her once more. Her knees bang clumsily against my backside as she reaches out an arm and struggles to resist me with her remaining arm—but now I notice that she can see what I see. I realize what’s happening too late as her scream rips through me. Her hand has risen up simultaneously to bash against my face with a fist-sized rock, and I topple off of her body forcibly.

I feel a warmth drip from my nose. She scrambles away from me and darts down the hall. A sharp throb pulses through my cheek and jaw...but I also feel the smallest fraction of pleasure to have witnessed Lorraine’s power in such a solid, visceral way. A little smile quirks at the corners of my aching mouth before I pull myself up to continue forward on the steps in my plan.

Ed Warren’s voice wavers through the corridors feverishly. He calls her name, over and over...and I cringe to hear him do it. I’m drawn to the sound of his voice through the darkness, like a bat that flies through a cave. But I’m not looking for a meal...this prey is revolting.

No, it’s time for the main distraction—time to raise the temperature in here...

I already have a hold on the man through the totem that I had delivered to his home. I can make him do or see whatever I desire...now all he needs is more strength. With that weak heart, he’d never be able to perform...So, I’ve prepared a compound that will imbue him with endurance, fill his muscles with fire, make his blood pump faster. They’re relatively benign elements on their own, but when I speak the word of power into them...the compound becomes far more potent.

I pour the powder into my palm from a vial in my pocket, and I cast a glamour on myself to make me look like Lorraine in his eyes. I feel his cool relief to see her running around the corner. But then, his equilibrium falls through his body at the revelation of my true form—appearing with a snap before him, for the first time in the flesh. Seeing his cowardly face fall feels...so good. But when I blow the powder into his face, he forgets about his fear. I force him to chase after a projection of myself—running away from him, apparently wounded and trailing dark blood behind in the dirt.

I sense when he picks up the hammer that I’ve propped against a wall. Every wild thought in his head is my suggestion. He’s slow with the heavy hammer, lumbering through the halls...When he finally encounters his wife, he won’t see her—he’ll think that he’s pursuing me. He’ll think he’s winning this battle all on his own...but Lorraine is quick. Her heart is strong. He’ll never catch her.

I go to my now brightly-lit altar room to begin the ‘finishing blow’ ritual against Arne Johnson. My practiced hands light the candles, but the acrid smell of the match is not comforting, like it always has been. The smell of the sulfur and the flaming tinder curdles in my stomach.

I feel the young man pulling and arching against his restraints. The dowdy priest beside his bed chants ungracefully in latin. Arne’s girlfriend holds tight to his arm, terrified and desperate. Arne screams as he feels his life force slipping away.

Ed Warren brings down the sledgehammer in an explosion of sparks on an electrical box. He grits his teeth as he hoists the heavy hammer aloft again and crashes it loudly into some other inanimate object. Lorraine screams. She pleads with him to stop. He only grunts, like a feral beast.

The Demon Nun looks on at both scenes, relishing the terror and the violence.

And I slip from the circular pavilion of the altar room to stand in the shadows nearby...

It’s almost over now. I wonder if I should be afraid, or sad, or triumphant...I don’t feel any of those things.

I hear their screams shaking in every single one of my bones. Something strange is happening to me...I pull the strings in this puppet show, but now I know their desperation—their confusion...I feel the...the Love that’s kindled warmly inside of them. I feel their will to live, their cries to be free. Their humanness is so blindingly eruptive that it hurts me. I was wrong about so many things...And Lorraine was right when she said that my ‘hateful gaze’ creates more harm. I never wanted to be cruel...This mortal coil is already cruel enough...but I forgot what it feels like—to feel with such volatility. I forgot the feeling of being so paradoxically engaged and paralyzed by the odds of my own small existence that I could almost disintegrate under the weight of it. For too long, I haven’t felt anything at all...

And I never thought it was possible for me—for my life to be different...but maybe it’s not too late. All I can hope for is a chance to start over. I have to try.

Arne’s girlfriend...her name comes to me, now...Debbie...Debbie cries out for help, tears streaming down her face.

“Please! Stop it! Please help him!”

Lorraine tries to touch Ed’s heart with her words, but he can’t hear her at all.

“You’re not gonna do this! This is wrong and you know it!”

And I feel like they’re speaking to me. Begging me to stop this ride of horrors because they want to get off. I wipe my athame clean of my Father’s blood. The Demon Nun cackles maniacally as it lifts Arne Johnson’s helpless body high into the air. I place the blade of my knife into my right hand and slice the flesh, quick and clean, imbuing my body with all of the energy and power that I’ve collected inside of it. Thick blood pours around my knuckles as I grip the athame painfully in my right hand again. I continue to drive Ed forward, leading him to my altar. Glass shatters loudly somewhere. Lorraine stumbles into view, lit by the halogen bulbs in stark contrasts of color and shadow.

Tears threaten to fall from my eyes to watch her clamber up the steps—my left hand goes up to my breast...her ring hangs on a string around my neck, tucked safely inside of my shirt. But I’m aghast to see her cower at the foot of my altar...she could have led Ed around the wide open circle of the pavilion—she could have slipped between the columns, ran for cover until her husband sloppily smashed my altar in his slow stupor...but she didn’t do any of that. Lorraine has backed herself up tight against my altar, her hands clutching the edges of dusty, thick tomes beneath the stone. She looks up at Ed, pouring out the words in a tender stream,

“Ed…Remember me. She tried to turn you against me. Because, she thinks our love is our weakness. But it’s not...It’s not.”

Pain, sharper than a knife, twists in my chest, in my throat—but she’s too close—his muscles twitch, his face contorts, and she’s not moving away! No. No, Lorraine, move out of the way!!

I hear screams again. The demon growls and gnashes.

And just when I can’t take another millisecond of fear that I could accidentally kill Lorraine—Just when I’m about to release Ed Warren from my control and abandon all of my hope for a lawful release from this terrible contract that I’ve made— Just then , I see a near imperceptible shimmer of black light around my altar. The energy swirls and frames Lorraine’s body...And my hold on Ed breaks.

I’m panting quietly in anticipation, out of sight. I watch Ed Warren as if there’s nothing else in the room. Time stands still. His thick arms crank back with the hammer, and he brings the force of his weight down upon the stone with a resounding boom. Lorraine dives out of the way, and as the dust begins to settle, her eyes flicker up to mine as I walk out of the shadow towards them. Her face twists into a strange grimace. I wish I could embrace her one last time. Ed helps her stand from the floor. He stares at me in disgust and haughty disdain. She grips his arm, repelled and in pain, and turns away from my gaze.

I have to make a finale of this moment—I have to appear defeated. I point the athame at Ed.

“Your curse is broken,” he says gruffly between panting breaths.

Searing pain shoots up my arm as the Demon Nun twists the athame from my buckling grip. My bones crack audibly and I let out a low groan.

“You promised a demon a soul,” Ed continues. I cry out in a guttural shock as my long spine breaks with unimaginable force. I’m so tired...I can’t feel my body anymore, but my insides ache and heave with feeling. Saliva drips disgustingly from my paralyzed mouth.

I’m held aloft, my head facing away from the Warrens—and I’m forced to stare up at the demon who has taken on my appearance, with blood in its fiery eyes and black veins creeping under its sickly grey skin.

I just want to see Lorraine’s beautiful face one more time before it ends. Not this filth. Please, anything but this...I reach out to her:

“Lorraine...” I whisper into her mind.

“And it can’t go back to hell without one,” Ed finishes behind me.

The demon bares it’s fangs. I close my eyes...