Julian staggered away from Aisha's bed. "What did you say?" he asked, his forehead twitching in disbelief.
"You took your time climbing out of the hole, didn't you?" Aisha repeated with a toothy grin. Her voice was strange. The sixteen-year-old girl was speaking with the voice of a middle-aged man. Even her beautiful face had begun to show aging wrinkles.
However, that was not the surprising part. As a veteran exorcist, Julian had heard hundreds of tongues, dialects, pitches, and tones emerge from the most unlikely mouths. He had seen appearances change drastically within seconds.
What shocked Julian were Aisha's exact words. 'The hole' was what he mentally referred to as his close call with hell before transmigration rescued him.
His heart hammered, and he looked around the room, panicking. How did the girl, or the entity possessing her, know about his damnation? Ramirez, Miguel, and Rosa stared at him in confusion.
"Are you okay, Mr. Amadeus?" Rosa asked. "This girl, Aisha Noor, has been speaking in that odd voice since dawn. Please don't be shaken."
Julian shook his head and pressed his temples. Could the thing inside Aisha read minds, or did it have access to the itinerary of transmigrations?
An alternate explanation was that the entity inside Aisha might have been bluffing, trying to elicit a reaction from Julian. He couldn't let it rattle him. "Miguel," he said sharply, trying to keep his voice steady. "Gag the girl. She's going to try to derail my efforts through manipulation."
Miguel looked uneasy, scratching his thick beard as he glanced between Julian and Father Ramirez. The latter nodded, giving him permission.
He grabbed another strip of cloth from a nearby shelf cluttered with medical supplies and approached Aisha cautiously. She snarled through her teeth as Miguel tied the gag, muffling her.
In the end, the entity's voice was cut off, but the low, guttural sounds from Aisha's throat still persisted. The room felt colder now for some reason.
Father Ramirez stepped closer, fiddling with his priest's collar. Perhaps it was a bit too tight around his neck. Beads of sweat had developed on his forehead despite the chill. Did he know something that Julian didn't?
"Amadeus, we can't waste time. This foreign entity must be taken care of. The foul spirit she dragged along from her place of birth needs to be exorcised now. You're the expert, or so your ad claimed. Proceed with the proper ritual."
Julian rubbed his temples again, the hangover still lingering like a fog in his brain. Was he really an expert? He was barely piecing together something meaningful from borrowed memories. Fragments of Julian Amadeus's life kept flashing in and out of his consciousness.
The young man cleared his throat. "Hold on, Father. I won't jump into a random exorcism blindly. We don't even know what entity is inside her. A mismatched ritual could kill the girl."
Ramirez looked uncomfortable. "That is not your decision," the old priest said with brutal finality. "Exorcise her now!"
Julian clenched his jaw and stood his ground. "No, I will not, Father. Not until I have finished my tests. Unless you have something else to share."
Ramirez's face reddened, and his eyes narrowed. "Tell me something, Amadeus. Why did you lose your exorcist license?"
"That is none of your business," Julian snapped.
The priest crossed his arms. "Whatever mistake or sin led you to getting your license revoked, don't repeat it here. The Church may have cast you out, but I brought you here to do a job. Innocent boys died! These people are suffering!"
Julian met his gaze, but his conviction remained unflinching. "Exactly. I won't repeat my past mistakes. No exorcism ritual will be started until I test and identify what we are dealing with. Aisha's life matters more than your urgency. Unless you have another EXPERT lined up, step aside, and let me do my job."
Ramirez balled his fists at his sides, and his breath came in short huffs. He looked ready to explode, but then he exhaled slowly, crossing himself and muttering a prayer. "Fine. Test whatever you must. But if this drags on and more harm comes to innocents... It's on you."
Julian nodded, grateful for the breathing room. He glanced around the dim chamber, at the peeling wallpaper. A single bulb swung faintly overhead. He could hear the murmurs of the refugees through the door. They waited patiently, putting their faith in him.
Turning to Miguel and Rosa, he said, "You two, stay by the door and guard it so no one else comes in. And if things go south, be ready to restrain Aisha again."
Miguel positioned himself by the door with his arms crossed, looking solid as a rock. However, he was sweating just like the priest. Rosa fidgeted with her rosary and nodded nervously. "I'll pray for you," she whispered.
Father Ramirez stayed where he was, watching Julian's every move. The latter took a deep breath, steadying his mind. The solution was right there within reach. He could feel it while browsing his memories.
Julian Amadeus once featured as the most versatile exorcist in the world in the Church's monthly magazine—DOGMA. Come on!
His instincts began kicking in. The young man patted down his heavy trench coat. The fabric was worn and stained from years of this grim work. Moreover, he didn't remember the last time he washed the trench coat.
Julian's pockets were mostly empty except for coins, lint, and condoms. After a thorough check, his fingers closed around something cool and polished. It was still there! He pulled it out slowly.
The Denisova bracelet. It was an ancient artifact, split into two halves. Popularly believed to have been crafted in the Paleolithic era, over fifty thousand years ago, the bracelet was one of the first exorcist tools.
The Denisova was always in two pieces, which was its normal state. It became whole when a powerful supernatural entity flared its unholy power.
Julian placed the halves on a rickety table a few feet from the bed. He spaced them apart like poles of a magnet. "Now let's see where the entity is going to hide."