Chapter 13 - When He Couldn't Help It Part 1

An understandable silence fell on the room for a moment when Ysabelle left. Marcus was still standing near the table, the empty glass still in his hand. Remembering what she said about a tattoo in his arm, he decided to ask Father Julien out of curiosity and in order to break the silence. “Have you noticed anything unusual with me Father?” He turned to face his colleague and stood ready to be inspected.

As if it was a normal routine, Father Julien did as expected, scanning him from head to foot. “Hmmm... not that I can see, Father Marcus. You look just the same. Why do you ask?” he answered after a minute.

“My arm. Do you notice anything peculiar about it?” was Marcus’ clear inquiry. Might as well go straight to the point than have his poor secretary decipher his words.

“Hmmm?” But still, Father Julien was oblivious, so Marcus raised his right arm and displayed it in their front. The former’s brows furrowed, examining the arm meticulously.

“Let’s see, ” he then spoke after seconds past, “Other than the unusual healing of your charred right hand, there is nothing I can find that’s weird in a way.”

That brought Marcus to furrow his own brows. What’s this? Could it be that it was only him and Ysabelle who can see the unusual blank ink tattoo? Since it was his arm, he understood already why he can. But Ysabelle? Why was she able to see it when in fact she was just a normal woman?

“Ah, I see, ” was Marcus’ response. He didn’t delve deeper and decided to walk inside the change room leaving his secretary to nonchalantly shrug off the unnatural exchange. He waited patiently, sitting on a solo sofa near the chamber fireplace as Father Marcus prepared himself. Once he was done, they both exited the room and went to a particular hallway.

***

“André, someone is here to see you, ” Regina informed after opening the door wider for Father Marcus and Father Julien to enter. They strolled towards the king-sized bed where the elder son of the Rogratiatto Family was sitting with pillows propped up behind him. It was Father Marcus who chose to continue near the edge of the bed, choosing to sit in a cushioned chair where Regina earlier sat.

“You must be Father Marcus, my savior, ” André spoke, his voice perfectly developed for a man his age. He was already staring at the priest since he entered and found it surprising how Marcus looked young as him. He actually expected the exorcist priest to be bald old.

André had a tall, lean built, but he was an inch shorter than Father Marcus. He had short, black hair, wavy, and with highlights of brown in the edges. His eyes were the color of the forest, a dark green, the same as his mother’s.

“Savior?” Marcus quirked a brow. “No, I’m just an exorcist priest, ” he admitted in all honesty.

“You did save my life, Father. So I owe you a lot, ” was André’s reply thereafter. He held a serious gaze, somewhat telling the priest that he realized he was batshit in danger before the exorcism rite.

“Hmmm...” Marcus grumbled audibly. He knew full well what he meant and had found the Savior nickname understandable. Thinking about his last words though, it made him smirk, realizing it was good to take advantage of it now. “If that’s the case, I will have to ask you to tell me all you know about the demon while you were possessed, ” he stated with a straight face. “I reckon you have dreams for this one-month duration of the possession?”

“One month?” André echoed, “Is that how long I was out?” There was a mixture of surprise and confusion holding his eyes when he gazed upon the exorcist priest. He waited for Marcus to affirm his query but he didn’t, choosing to stay silent. Then, his attention was caught up when his mother neared the foot of the bed. He threw her a disbelieving stare and the latter only just nodded silently.

Their exchange though had some level of discreetness that Marcus didn’t miss out. He immediately thought it odd, especially when it looked as if they were hiding something...

“I see.” André cleared his throat, choosing not to press on the matter anymore.

Marcus, noticing it, went on to speak. “I will have to go straight to the point with you, Mr. André.” He leaned on to the chair and placed his hands onto his lap, clasping them together. “I also want to know how you were possessed. If... you can still recall it. An honest account would be appreciated because you know, I can use it if there are any cases similar to yours.”

He was hoping for André to share the information that instant, but then clear coughing from across the room right in the doorway emerged cutting off their conversation.

“I don’t think that André still remembers all that Father, ” said Alfon in a mildly irritated manner. “It has already been a month and he was unconscious that time.” He stood straight, shoulder’s squared and chin lifted as he waited for a few seconds to cross the room towards them. When he did, he stood a few feet away from Regina in the foot of the bed.

Marcus turned his face to see him. He wasn’t intimidated by the old man, not at all, but knew his words were basically commandments inside the mansion. He was aware he needed to be obedient as he was still under the Master’s zone of control, so he decided he won’t squeeze out his son anymore, but then André’s voice caught his attention. “I do remember something though, ” was what he countered.

There was a sudden hostility in André’s expression when Marcus looked at him. It was directed to his father so it seems, who was giving off the same aura of hostility himself.

Regina stiffened in response when she heard him say. Her eyes widened for a brief moment but then turned to slits. Her brows furrowed so clearly as she shook her head once. It was another unusual exchange for a mother and son and Marcus found it odd and even more alarming. Something really wasn’t right with them. They were hiding some very important information maybe? But that was already a given thought when he noticed the podium and the tattered book the first time he set foot in the room days ago.

Disregarding his parent’s silent plea, André continued with more determination, looking now at Father Marcus’ way with a serious face.

“You asked me if I have dreams when I was possessed and my answer to that for you is yes. I am not sure if those were even called dreams though for it felt so God-damn real.”

Remembering that the man in his front was a righteous priest, he immediately held his breath and shook his head. “I’m sorry for cursing Father, ” he stated, half apologetic.

“No. Not at all, go on, ” Marcus replied disregarding the slip-off, wanting to know more about these so-called real dreams.

“Well, for starters, I should tell you about the environment I was in, and honestly, I can only give you one word about it.”

André watched Father Marcus and he caught him staring with eager anticipation.

“Black, ” he then continued. This did incite a sharp intake of breath on the priest.

“Black?” the exorcist priest parroted.

“Yes, black. All of the surroundings were black Father. Black soil, black water, and black sky. And it had an unbearable feeling of emptiness. The whole time I was there, I was alone. Well... except for the fact that I had an odd shadow even though there wasn’t even a sun in the sky.”

By the mention of that, Marcus’ lips pressed tightly. He was calm and composed, but deep inside he was already in chaos. They exactly had the same dream -- the environment and the empty feeling. Could it be that he is?

“Hmmm, that’s an interesting information, ” was his cool announcement. “And what else was in your dreams?”

“A man, ” André replied.

“A man?” Marcus brow’s rose. Now, this is new.

But it wasn’t only the priest’s brows that rose, Alfon and Regina’s did too. They had been listening to their conversation attentively hoping to find a window wherein they can interrupt it if a certain information would leak out. They, of course, didn’t expect to learn about their son’s possession experience in detail.