"You can do it, can't you?" Nathaniel asked. "He mentioned you tried before…when he was a boy. Do you think…you can banish him for good this time?"
I laughed—a low, guttural sound, foreign to my own ears. "Too weak," I said, shaking my head. "Too weak to succeed."
"I am much stronger than I was ten years ago," Joe told Nathaniel, taking the bait.
"I bet the Devil is stronger too," Nathaniel said.
Joe's lips spread into a confident smile. "No one is stronger than God."
"You'll help him, then?" Hope softened Nathaniel's narrowed eyes and un-furrowed his brows. If he were a stranger, I would have believed he really was trying to save me. "I just want my friend back."
"I fear your friend has always been the Devil," Joe sighed, one hand resting on Nathaniel's shoulder. "Once the Devil is gone…Augustus will be a mere stranger."
A raging fire ignited within my soul. It burned through me, heat flaming my cheeks as I thrashed against my chains. "Get your hands off him!"
Joe shot me a look—a blend of boredom and annoyance—as he pulled away from Nathaniel and sauntered toward the door. I glowered at him, our eyes locking in a silent standoff.
"I will return at midnight for the exorcism," he said. "Say your prayers. You will need them."
***
The plan was simple. At midnight, Joe would return to perform the exorcism. Whether he came alone or with his loyal followers, Nathaniel and I would play along until we had an opportunity to flee. And in that time, I just had to ignore the Devil snarling in the mirrors all around me.
"During the exorcism, you should act like…the Devil is resisting," Nathaniel said, pacing back and forth. "Don't speak, though. Maybe just…wrestle with your chains? Groan?"
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. Just long enough to be convincing."
“Do you really think he’d fall for it?”
Nathaniel scratched the back of his neck. “He’s delusional, isn’t he? He’ll see whatever he wants to see.”
“I guess.”
“And once you’re no longer possessed by the Devil, he’ll unchain you. That’s when we flee.”
“What if he’s not alone? His followers could overpower us.”
“If he’s not alone, we’ll have to keep up appearances a little longer,” Nathaniel sighed. “You’ll need to act…I don’t know…upset and scared and confused. Once you’re deemed no longer a threat, we should be able to just…leave.”
“Or they’ll try and recruit us,” I mumbled.
“We’ll adapt,” Nathaniel assured me. “We’ll get out of here, I promise.”
Food was delivered to us in two white bowls atop a plastic tray, a single jug of water beside it. The scent of herbs and simmering meat swallowed the damp rot that clung to the mirrored walls, my stomach grumbling with anticipation.
A dark-haired woman hovered in the doorway, her bare foot tapping against the floor as her grey eyes settled on Nathaniel. I recognised her from a photo posted on the God’s Soldiers socialmedia page, but the shift in her appearance was unnerving. Where there had once been colour in her cheeks, there was now only grey, as though she had been snatched right out of a black and white film. Her hair, which had been long and healthy, was now wild and untamed, patches of baldness littering her scalp. She’d grown thin, her dress sliding off her shoulders with every exhale. What was Joe doing to these people?
“Thank you,” Nathaniel broke the silence as he crouched down to lift a bowl.
The woman said nothing as he carried it toward me, her fingers fiddling with the grey material of her creased dress, foot still tapping rhythmically against the damp floor.
I pinched the spoon beneath my trembling fingers, twirling the yellow soup around mindlessly while I waited for Nathaniel to retrieve his own bowl. Just as I raised the spoon to my lips, the woman cleared her throat, loudly, and I raised my eyes to look at her. A stern expression darkened her features as she pressed her hands together in prayer.
“Oh,” Nathaniel breathed out, lowering his bowl to the floor.
I hesitated before doing the same.
