I was going to be physically sick. I really wish those fuckers would have told me I wasn’t done for the night before I had to do an exorcism. The kind of exorcism I do isn’t even remotely acceptable. I definitely wouldn’t have taken the pill if I had known.
Fun fact of my life: being a Sarielite dampens my emotions. Makes sense, when you kill a lot of people in short bursts. The church has this pill that can strengthen emotions. We’re encouraged to take it right after missions, so we feel guilt for taking life, because even though it’s our job, we should never forget it’s people we’re killing.
So, anyway, I take the damn pill, and then they want me to do an exorcism. On a four year old girl. I was sick right then. And then to be cornered up by Daniel right before the Mass was just not helpful. God help me, but I’m gonna have nightmares about this…
The exorcism I do is rather gory. Demons have a nasty tendency to take up residence in a an organ in the mortal they’re using. The only way to drive them out is to find that organ and burn it. Which means that tonight, I was up to my elbows in a little girl, who was pleading for her life the entire time.
Normal demons pick the heart or brain. But was the demon in the girl normal? Of course not. It picked the last organ go to. The skin. Dear God, I skinned a four-year-old girl.
That last thought brought up everything I ate in the last two days. Somehow, it didn’t look like too many people would notice. There were a couple of other spots there. Whatever. I didn’t care. I just wanted out of there.
There was another tent, where the cultists I had let live were being housed. I donned some of the looser clothing I left at the opening of the tent, and headed there. At the moment, all I wanted was to get back to the convent and cry. Unfortunately, Daniel had the keys to the truck.
Nobody looked up when I entered. I plopped down on the ground, elbows draped over bent knees, head down to my chest. I fought exhaustion and tears for a while, I really don’t know how long. And I must have been pretty out of it, ‘cause I didn’t know anyone was around until Daniel kicked me in the shin. Hard.
“Get up. We’re done for the night,” he said. His face was completely impassive, except for his eyes. They said he was still angry. I extended a hand up to him. He turned and walked away. Fleck.
I didn’t catch up to him. He met me some before I was halfway to the car, about a half mile or so. He didn’t talk to me halfway to the church. And he always talks. This was bad. I knew he was mad about the girl dying, but it couldn’t be any worse than I felt.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re still pissed off,” I stated in a flat voice. Daniel grunted. “I did what I had to. I’m feeling pretty flecking crappy right now about it.” More grunting. “We had no real choice.” That last didn’t even sound sure to my ears. It got a response, however.
“Shut up. Just shut up.” Okay, then. Fine. I continued to mope in silence. I wish that silence would have lasted.
The car finally pulled into a spot in front of the convent. Daniel opened my door, and helped me to my rooms. I was about to enter when his arm blocked my path. Wearily, I looked up at him.
“You can’t justify dissecting a human by writing it off as responsibility and duty,” he said in a hard, very controlled voice. I flinched. How did he know what I had done?
“It’s not like that-” I started, but he wasn’t done.
“Shut up. I’m not done. Bad enough you did it, but you didn’t even feel anything while you were doing it.” My eyes got wide at that statement. So he had been watching. Oh, God, help me… “You flaunt the fact that you break the Commandant fairly regularly. And the more I though about it, you’ve never even felt bad. That makes you as much a monster as them. You disgust me.” And with that, he was gone.
I didn’t make it two steps into my room before I collapsed into the fetal position, sobbing hysterically.