the-book-of-azazel

E.A. KOETTING
Returning to the altar, I recollected my focus, and
looked at the opening beneath me and the spirits gathered
around me.
I inhaled once, a long breath, and with a sigh, realizing
that the gateway must be closed and the demons must return to
their places, I pronounced, “It is done.”
“It is done,” the participants echoed. The floor shifted
and flashed, and then was concrete again. The bodies of the
demons and the spirits who had attended dissolved and
dematerialized. Shawn fell in the Triangle, unconscious.
I took a bottle of consecrated water and emptied it into
a golden chalice. With my index and middle fingers, I
sprinkled the water on the floor, dispelling the demonic residue
thereon. I cleansed the Circle, and then the Triangles, and then
knelt over Shawn’s body, wetting my hand with the blessed
water and placing it on her forehead.
“Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei
Patris, et Filii, Spiritus Sancti, ut descedas ab hoc
plasmate Dei Shawn, quod Dominus noster ad templum
sanctum suum vocare dignatus est, ut fiat templum Dei
vivi, et Spiritus Sanctus habitet in eo. Amen. Amen.
Amen.”
Shawn’s eyes opened, and she struggled herself up to a
seated position. She retained very little memory of what had
occurred around her and through her.
The congregants disbanded, startled and confused
expressions guiding them to the exits.
I seized fistfuls of implements, cramming them into
bags and stuffing the bags into the trunk of my car, as if to
dispose of some shameful evidence.
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