Chapter 5 – A Visit from Pastor John

Long after the kids had fallen asleep, Thomas remained at his kitchen table with his palms pushed to his temples. His tolerance and sanity were being eroded by the sound of the wall clock ticking away in the quiet, which felt like the slow drip of a leaky faucet. Eva's peculiar conduct was becoming worse; she stopped speaking to him in the same manner as before, as though a stranger had moved inside of her.

He initially attempted to ignore it. He convinced himself that she was simply exhausted. Everyone was getting used to the change. It was just that. However, the nagging sensation persisted. This isn't my wife anymore sank like a stone in his chest, creeping into his ideas when he hadn't expected it to.

He was unable to deny it any longer. Something had taken hold of Eva.

Thomas contacted Pastor John, the clergyman whose cautions he had disregarded weeks before because it was the only thing he was capable of doing so. He recalled the priest's words about the house's curse and the desperation in his eyes. Thomas had dismissed it as religious bullshit at the time. He wasn't so sure now, though.

He called the phone with trembling hands. He expected the phone to be sent to voicemail, but a voice answered after it rang too many times.

"This is Father John."

Thomas clutched the phone like a lifeline and swallowed hard. His voice was tight as he said, "It's Thomas Collins." "I—" He paused, embarrassed by his stupidity in dismissing the priest before. "I need your assistance."

After a little silence, John's steady but very understanding voice could be heard on the other end. She is, isn't she? Your wife has been taken by the house.

With the declaration taste like ashes in his mouth, Thomas muttered, "Yes." "Please. Are you able to attend?

In the dim kitchen light, Thomas sat across from Pastor John. He appeared older than Thomas had recalled, as though his face had been scarred by years of shame. His knuckles were white, his hands were clasped tightly onto the table, and his eyes were filled with a melancholy that only people who have experienced loss can understand.

John said, "I once attempted to save another family," in a steady, low voice. "I didn't succeed." He understood there was no point in sugarcoating it.

Desperate to comprehend, Thomas leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "What took place?"

John let out a slow breath, as though the thought was too hard to say out loud. A family similar to yours moved into the residence years ago. At first, I had no idea what was going on. Little things, odd behaviors, and nightmares were the subtle indicators. However, it was already too late when I realized what I was up against.

His eyes grew gloomy. "The mother had already been taken over." I misjudged the spirit's power, but I believed I could exorcise it. The demon transformed the family's love into something toxic by feeding off their anxiety and perplexity. The family members betrayed one another one by one.

John hesitated, his words becoming more and more labored. "They were all dead when I returned to the residence the following day. The father, who had attempted to keep his wife safe till the end, is still in my memory. The spirit, however, was more powerful. It ate them all up.

Thomas's stomach rumbled. The priest's comments weighed heavily on him, like a kick to the stomach. And you believe it's occurring once more? To us?

John gave a somber nod. Indeed. The presence is the same. And it will ruin your family as well if we don't take action quickly.

Pastor John showed up at the Collins residence the following day. As though the universe itself were attempting to vanish, a dense fog clung onto the streets, obscuring the outlines of the homes and trees. The air was wet and heavy with dread.

John hesitated as he entered the front door, his fingers gripping the leather Bible that was tucked under his arm.

"Do you sense it?" Thomas stood at the entrance and asked uneasily.

The priest nodded slowly. "It's here."

The house had a sense of life, but not in the typical sense. The air was heavy with the smell of moist dirt and something metallic, and the building itself seemed to breathe, growing and shrinking with each second.

John moved carefully through the home, glancing at the stairwells, walls, and corners. It was now a vessel rather than just a dwelling. A receptacle for something old and evil. The place's basic foundation had been entwined with the spirit.

Eva was sitting on the couch with her hands crossed neatly over her lap when he entered the living room. Her mouth contained the tiniest hint of an unnatural smile, but her eyes were far enough away to be present.

John lowered himself onto the couch across from her and said, "Eva," with a gentle greeting.

Slowly, almost robotically, she raised her head to face him. Her face briefly changed—just a brief glimpse of something icy and piercing, a predator wearing the face of a woman.

Then she grinned as the warmth came back. With sweetness, she said, "Hello, Father." However, her eyes remained vacant.

 John glanced at Thomas and spoke steadily and quietly. It is more than a spirit. This creature is bonded by retaliation, treachery, and hatred. The recollections of its demise are like a weapon that it wields, and it uses them to corrupt everybody in the house.

 A shiver went down Thomas's back. "Why is it acting in this way? What is it seeking?

John put both elbows upon his knees and leaned forward. "Hatred killed the boy." His ghost remained stuck in this home, feeding off other people's suffering, never moving on. It now craves control, which it never had. To dismantle and ruin a family, as his own had been destroyed.

He gave Thomas a direct glance. She already possesses it. Additionally, it is taking advantage of your family's anxiety and worry. It will destroy you if you allow it to.

Thomas's fists were clenched, rage seething beneath the surface. They couldn't be experiencing this. Then, obstinately, he declared, "We'll get rid of it." "We'll fight it no matter what."

John gave a headshake. "It's not that easy." He looked at Eva, who sat motionless, her face unreadable. "Desperation and division are what this spirit feeds on. It gets more power the more you fight. It desires for you to turn against one another.

The force of those remarks weighed heavily on Thomas's chest. Now everything made sense: the odd conduct, the stress, how the children had started pulling away from each other. The demon was already winning.

John straightened off the front of his outerwear and stood up. "I'll assist you. But be aware that it won't go unnoticed. With each soul it claims, it gets stronger over the decades that it has existed. We cannot use fear or rage to push it away. It will fight us every step of the way.

 Thomas's hands were still shaking, but he nodded. "What are we going to do?"

 John grimaced as he looked into his eyes. "We battle it together and with faith. You will need to defend each other as well as your kids. The spirit will exert every effort to make you turn against your spouse. Even when she isn't herself, you must have faith in her. You will lose everything if you succumb to fear.

 Feeling the immensity of the work ahead, Thomas took a deep breath. Given that Eva harbored a demon, could he still have faith in her? When everything was coming apart, could he keep his family together?

 His shoulder was touched by John. "It's not only about keeping her alive. The goal is to save you all.

A shadow flitted across one of those upstairs windows as the pastor walked out. In the ensuing quiet, Thomas realized that the battle had just begun.