【Human-faced Ulcer】Chapter 5:The Exorcism

Ya Ting's stomach growled again. She finally gave in and asked her father to whip up a quick plate of fried noodles. She devoured it in minutes, but the hunger lingered—relentless and hollow. Embarrassed to ask for more with the kopitiam crowd growing, she clenched her teeth and pressed on, helping her father serve dishes as the lunch rush began to swell.

By eleven, the air was thick with the scent of oil and spices. The fried chicken vendor arrived and began setting up his stall. Ya Ting found herself watching as he dredged chicken legs in seasoned flour and dropped them into the bubbling oil. Her mouth watered instinctively.

Unable to resist, she ordered two drumsticks.

But the moment she sank her teeth into the crispy skin, a strange wave of disappointment washed over her. It tasted… dull. Wrong. Her gaze shifted to the raw chicken waiting to be fried. Pale, pink, glistening.

Her throat tightened.

That looks better than what I'm eating.

The thought hit her like a slap.

Why would I think raw meat looks appetizing?

Fear crawled up her spine.

Why do I keep craving raw meat?

Could there still be something inside me—some remnant of that evil spirit?

If this goes on… that human-faced ulcer might grow back.

No. I can't let that happen.

Tomorrow, I'm going to the priest. I need an exorcism.

Ya Ting was raised by her aunt, a devout Christian who had her baptized as a child. She wasn't particularly religious herself, but she still went to church with her aunt every Sunday.

The next morning, at 9:30 sharp, her aunt picked her up. By 10:00, the service had begun. The Mass dragged on endlessly, her stomach twisting with anxiety. When the final "amen" echoed at noon, she didn't wait a moment longer.

"Auntie, I need to talk to Father Ma."

Before her aunt could respond, Ya Ting was already hurrying toward the priest.

Father Ma was a kind-faced man with a full head of white hair and a warm, ever-present smile. He was the kind of person who made you feel safe just by standing near him.

"Father Ma!" Ya Ting called.

He turned with a gentle nod. "Oh, Ya Ting. What can I do for you?"

"I... I need your help," she said, lowering her voice.

She glanced around—some parishioners were still lingering nearby.

Father Ma caught the look in her eyes. "Not here?"

She nodded.

"Alright. Go wait in my office. I'll be there in a minute."

Ya Ting gave a quick nod and headed off to Father Ma's office. She'd been there plenty of times with her aunt—it was a familiar place.

The door was unlocked. She went in and sat down in the small office to wait.

After a while, Father Ma finally came in.

He sat down in his office chair and said, "What can I help you with?"

"Uh... I think I'm possessed by some kind of evil spirit, and I was hoping you could perform an exorcism for me."

"Evil spirit?" Father Ma looked startled. "Tell me exactly what's been going on."

"I... I... I just can't help having these strange thoughts, and sometimes... I feel like I might act on them in strange ways."

Ya Ting didn't mention the human-faced ulcer, fearing Father Ma might involve someone to dissect her for research.

Father Ma furrowed his brows. "Like what, for example?"

Ya Ting's fingers dug into her knees. "I'm always hungry. No matter how much I eat, it's never enough..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And… lately, I've been craving raw meat. Like, really craving it."

Father Ma said nothing for a moment. He simply stared at Ya Ting, brows furrowed.

"Father, please," she begged, fingers twisting in her lap. "Can't you just perform an exorcism?"

The old priest sighed, steepling his fingers. "Child, first I need to explain something. Not every priest is authorized to perform the Rituale Romanum. We must petition the bishop, who will dispatch investigators to rule out... other explanations." His eyes flickered to her trembling hands. "Mental illness, for instance."

Ya Ting's expression darkened. "Forget it then… Can't you just do a simple one? Like… unofficially?"

Father Ma hesitated. He didn't want to say no. "Alright," he finally said. "We'll keep it simple. Just a prayer, asking the Lord for guidance and protection."

Ya Ting's face lit up. "Thank you, Father! Can we start now?"

"I need to grab a few things from downstairs," he said, standing and leaving the office.

He returned a few minutes later with a small white bottle and a silver aspergillum. The bottle bore a cross and the words Aqua Benedicta—holy water.

He carefully poured a small amount into the aspergillum. "That's it?" Ya Ting asked. Father Ma chuckled. "Do you think this is our church's holy water?"

"It's not?"

"No, this one's special. I brought it back from St. Peter's Basilica. Just a tiny bottle, so we have to conserve it."

Ya Ting's eyes widened.

Vatican St. Peter's Basilica holy water. This wasn't just any parish blessing—it had to be powerful stuff.

Father Ma handed her a Bible. "Hold this. I'll recite the Lord's Prayer. Follow along in your heart."

She took it, and he opened his own Bible, holding it in his left hand. He slowly made the sign of the cross over his chest with his right hand. It was about to begin.

Ya Ting began to tense up. What if the priest really drove the demon out? Would her eyes roll back like in those exorcism films—then her head do a full 180-degree twist?

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..."

With each line Father Ma recited, Ya Ting followed silently in her heart.

"Amen."

"Amen!" she echoed aloud as the Lord's Prayer came to an end.

Father Ma picked up the crucifix from his desk and held it above her head. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit," he said solemnly.

"I cast out all unclean spirits, and every force of darkness within you.

In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord."

Father Ma set down the crucifix, picked up the aspergillum, and gently sprinkled the pitifully small amount of holy water onto Ya Ting.

"I command you—return to the depths of hell!"

Then, with genuine earnestness, he prayed aloud:

"O Lord, save this child of yours who seeks your light. Let her find you even in her hour of distress."

He stopped. No terrifying movie scene. No screaming or thrashing.

Ya Ting blinked. "Is… that it?"

"That's it. How do you feel?"

She didn't feel physically different, but inside—it was like something had been lifted. The tension and dread that had been following her for days were gone. She felt… clean. Light. Peaceful.

"I feel… relaxed. Peaceful."

"That's a good sign. Just keep praying at home. The Lord will guide you."

"Thank you, Father. But… can you not tell my aunt about this? Or anyone else?"

Father Ma nodded. He had no authority to perform a formal exorcism anyway—he wasn't about to advertise this.

Ya Ting stood and left the office with a polite goodbye.

Once the door shut, Father Ma carefully tipped the remaining holy water back into the bottle.

"Next time I visit the Vatican," he murmured, "I really need to find a way to bring back a few more of these…"