Ritual

She stood with her hands folded in front of her, watching as the sun set behind the barn. As the sun descended below the horizon, it left a reddish orange glow that looked like fire. The clouds drifted towards the east, fleeing the sunset as smoke would an actual fire. It was a sight to see, but it was short-lived as the moon rose in the sun’s place.

The wind picked up, blowing through the old wood panels as they creaked. She took a step towards the run-down barn and stopped, hearing a loud crunch beneath her feet. She lifted her foot and looked down. At first, it looked to be nothing more than a tree branch. Once the clouds passed over and the moon’s light clearly shone, she could see it was a pile of bones.

As she stared at them, she could hear voices whispering to her, drawing her closer. She knelt down and grabbed a bone from the pile, turning it over in her hands. From her brief experience as a nurse, she knew this bone was human and considered slipping it into her bag. Before she had the chance, the bone softened and started moving on its own. The longer she held onto it, the more fleshy and scaly it felt.

It was disgusting, yet intriguing at the same time. She wanted to let go, to throw it aside and head into the barn where the Father awaited her. But she couldn’t. The same calling that possessed her to pick up the bone was now telling her to hold on to it. Once the bone took on the full form of a snake, the whispers she heard turned into hissing.

She jumped to her feet and screamed. Unfortunately, before she could toss the snake aside, it bit her. Up ahead, the Father ran out of the large, rotted door to find the source of the screams. She didn’t hesitate to run towards him, tripping over various piles of bones she could’ve sworn weren’t there earlier that day.

The second she was mere feet away from him, she felt something grab her ankle. She looked down and saw a skeleton clawing its way out from the ground, all while holding on to her. Her screams became more and more blood curdling as she kicked at the bones, trying to escape. The Father reached out to her, but it was too late. The skeleton had dragged her under and everything went dark.

Her eyes snapped open, and she found herself in the arms of the priest she accompanied to the barn. Only now they were inside. The hanging lanterns provided little light, but it was enough to see the worn out stalls and dried blood on the old blankets. She even saw shadows of her past and the people who died there.

“Are you alright, Sister?” the priest asked. “A snake bit you and you started convulsing shortly after. Fortunately, it wasn’t too venomous and flushing the wound seemed to help.”

Her brows furrowed as she sat up, groaning in pain. Her entire body ached, and her bones cracked with each movement. She couldn’t recall the last time she felt so out of shape. In fact, in that moment she couldn’t remember much of anything before dedicating her life to the monastery.

She did, however, remember why she hated this barn. Without answering the priest’s question on her wellbeing, she moved away from him and started kicking around the hay and blankets. As she shuffled her foot across the floor, she could feel the pentagram engraved in the concrete floor.

A cold gust of wind blew the barn doors off of their rusted hinges and sent them hurtling towards the car. Inside, the stall gates began sliding back and forth, the wood becoming more splintered with each bang. The beams supporting the loft collapsed around them, causing hay and tools to hit the ground below with a loud clanging sound. She wanted to scream out for help once more, but she felt as if something had sucked the air out of her lungs.

The tools that fell from the loft, as well as those hanging up inside some stalls, began circling around her as she reached out for the priest’s help. She held her throat and mouthed the words help me as she struggled to breathe. Each time the priest attempted to reach for her, the levitating sickle left deep gashes in his arm.

“Clarissa!” he called to her, but his call fell on deaf ears.

She fell to the ground and began writhing in pain. All she saw was fire, and all she heard were screams. She saw three teenagers entering the barn. One she recognized as herself, but the others? She couldn’t quite place them. Soon, though, names were whispered into her ear.

Addison and Alex… Abigail and Abel… Avery and Amelia?

Avery and Amelia she recognized almost as soon as they were whispered to her. They were her friends, the twins that died in the fire that should’ve destroyed this forsaken place. She betrayed them by surviving and even in her pain she wanted to feel remorse for their deaths.

But she didn’t.

That’s why she dreaded this place. She didn’t care they were dead, and that thought caused her to begin laughing. The priest kept his distance and grabbed his bible, believing her to be possessed.

He held his crucifix up to her and began reading a prayer:

Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil; May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Amen!

Hearing his prayer only made her laugh more maniacally. As her laugh echoed throughout the barn, a ghostly, deformed figure of a woman appeared behind him and took hold of him. He dropped his bible and crucifix as all the tools floating around Clarissa fell to the ground.

“Forgive me, Father…” she whispered as she approached him with the sickle in hand. “I was never who you thought I was.”

“Clarissa, that demon has a hold of you! You can fight this!”

“Why would I fight what I’ve always been?” She tilted her head so far to the side that he heard her neck snap out of place and then back again when she lifted it back up. As she plunged the sickle into his torso, she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “There’s a reason I survived.”

He fell to the ground, and his blood filled the pentagram engraved on the floor. The pentagram glowed as he turned to dust and the deformed woman appeared more human. Her empty eye sockets now contained emerald green eyes and her pale, shriveled skin was now plump and full of color. Her hair was no longer strands of white string, but lush raven locks.

“We put on quite the show, Mother.” Clarissa smiled. “Although, the hallucinations on me were a bit much.”

The other woman grinned and slipped the nun veil off of Clarissa’s head, revealing hair of the same color before holding her face in her hands. “We had to make it believable, my love. And now I'm free to roam the earth!"