Page 9 of Exorcise Me (Hotter than Hell)

The Wellington case was as serious as Father Finnegan had warned.

The “victim”—a teenage girl named Sadie—displayed all the classic signs of what he called possession.

Her parents watched in horror as she contorted on the bed, her body twisting in ways that shouldn’t have been physically possible, her voice breaking between sobs and guttural cries that scraped against the walls.

“Hold her down,” Father Finnegan instructed, calm and authoritative.

The girl’s father and brother moved to restrain her, while her mother sobbed quietly in the corner. I stood beside Father Finnegan, prayer book open, holy water at the ready, trying to focus on the ritual and not on Lucien’s words echoing in my mind.

What if it’s just lonely? Curious? Even in love?

“Noah.” Father Finnegan’s sharp voice broke through my thoughts. “Begin the prayer.”

I cleared my throat and started the Latin incantation, the words thick and unfamiliar on my tongue. As I spoke, Sadie’s body went rigid, then began to thrash more violently. Her eyes rolled back, and for a moment I thought she was choking.

“Continue,” Father Finnegan urged.

I hesitated. “She’s not responding—she’s seizing!”

Father Finnegan didn’t look up. “The demon resists. Keep going.”

“She’s foaming at the mouth,” I said. “She needs a doctor!”

“The pain is the demon’s, not the girl’s,” he countered.

But what if it’s not? Lucien’s voice whispered in my mind. What if you’re causing real harm?

I watched as Sadie convulsed against her restraints, her breathing ragged, her pulse fluttering beneath pale skin. This wasn’t possession. It looked like a medical emergency.

“We need to stop,” I said, stepping back. “She needs medical attention, not an exorcism.”

Father Finnegan turned to me, his expression tight with disbelief. “The demon has gotten to you,” he said. “It’s clouding your judgment.”

“No one’s influencing me,” I insisted. “Look at her!”

“Noah—” Father Finnegan began, but I was already moving, pushing past the girl’s father to check her pulse, which was racing dangerously fast.

“Call an ambulance,” I ordered, loosening the restraints. “She’s having a seizure.”

To my relief, the mother immediately pulled out her phone, ignoring Father Finnegan’s protests. Sadie’s body continued to convulse, but less violently now that she wasn’t being restrained.

“You’re making a grave mistake,” Father Finnegan warned, his face flushed with anger. “The demon—”

“There is no demon!” I snapped, frustration boiling over. “There’s a sick girl who needs doctors, not prayers!”

The room fell silent except for Sadie’s labored breathing and her mother’s quiet voice giving their address to emergency services.

Father Finnegan looked at me with cold disappointment. “We will discuss this later,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “For now, I will complete the ritual alone.”

“No, you won’t,” I stood between him and Sadie, surprising myself with my certainty. “You’ll wait for medical professionals to assess her condition.”

For a tense moment, I thought he might physically push me aside. Then the fight seemed to drain from him, replaced by a sadness that was somehow worse than his anger.

“What’s happened to you, Noah?” he asked quietly. “What have you allowed into your heart?”

I had no answer for him—at least, not one I was ready to give.

The ambulance arrived minutes later. The paramedics quickly determined Sadie was indeed having seizures, likely caused by an undiagnosed condition. They administered medication that calmed her convulsions almost immediately.

“Has she been taking any medications? Recreational drugs?” one paramedic asked the parents.

“No,” the father said firmly. “She’s a good girl.”

The paramedic nodded, noncommittal. “We’ll run tests at the hospital. There are many conditions that can cause seizures with behavioral changes.”

As they loaded Sadie onto a stretcher, her eyes flickered open briefly. They were clear and frightened—a teenage girl’s eyes, nothing demonic about them.

“What happened?” she asked weakly.

“You’re going to be okay,” I told her, squeezing her hand. “The doctors are going to help you.”

Relief washed over her face before her eyes closed again, exhaustion claiming her.

I watched as the paramedics wheeled her out, her parents following close behind. Father Finnegan stood apart, his expression unreadable as he packed away the unused ritual implements.

“You’ve just condemned that girl to continued torment,” Father Finnegan said.

“I’ve helped her get proper medical care,” I countered. “If there was a demon, the doctors wouldn’t find anything wrong.”

“And when they do find nothing?” His voice was sharp. “When their science fails her, will you still deny what you’ve seen with your own eyes?”

“I saw a seizure, Father. Not evil.”

He shook his head slowly. “You used to have faith, Noah.” He stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “The evil one has found a way into your life. Into your heart.” He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Tell me the truth. What have you done?”

The weight of his disappointment was crushing. This man had been like a second father to me, guiding me through years of training, believing in me when I doubted myself.

And now I was lying to him.

“I need time,” I said finally. “To think, to… sort things out.”

He searched my face for a long moment, then sighed heavily. “Time won’t change what’s right and wrong, Noah. But take it if you must. Just remember—the longer evil dwells near you, the harder it becomes to recognize.”

He gathered his things and left without another word, leaving me alone in the now-quiet room, the faint smell of incense and antiseptic hanging in the air.