A/N: Wanted to thank Starrylizard for her support and a quick beta. All mistakes left are my own:) Hope you enjoy this part.
The night before Harper was released from the hospital, Marcus Keane sat on the stairs in front of their motel room. He was holding a rosary, eyes locked on something invisible in the darkness and mouth moving in silent prayer. It was nothing new for him, this praying in solitude, but lately it was like talking to a void. There was nothing on the other side, just the taunting echo of the words the demon in Cindy threw at Marcus several days ago.
'But you're not a priest, are you? Oh, God abandoned you. You're nothing but an empty vessel.'
"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith," Marcus started to pray, even as the demon kept talking, it's vile words cutting deeper and deeper into Marcus' mind.
'Why do you wanna pray, when you know no one's listening to you? You think your friend will discard you too?'
"...we find peace with God through Our Lord Jesus Christ-"
The demon cackled and Cindy's body twisted.
'Father Tomas, God's new favorite. He doesn't need you. You need him, so your wasted life has a purpose.'
"-we glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance-" Marcus found himself repeating the verse, trying to ignore that voice in his head, echoing Cindy's words. God abandoned you. Father Tomas, God's new favorite. He doesn't need you. No one does.
The last one came from somewhere deep inside and suddenly Marcus was back, feeling the hard stairs underneath, the crispness of the night air. He looked up, towards the stars, eyes filled with hurt and fear.
"Why aren't you answering?" he asked with choked voice. "Did I make a mistake? Is this all a mistake?"
There was no answer, no light inside his chest, nothing. Just emptiness and a crawling fear that maybe he was wrong, that taking Tomas onto this journey wasn't what God planned for them. That somehow, he fell from God's grace and there was no way back.
"What do you want from me?" Marcus asked in whisper, looking at the strongest shining star as if it could give him an answer.
The door behind him opened and Marcus jerked when he heard Tomas' voice.
"Marcus? Dinner's ready."
"I'll be right in," Marcus said, his voice hoarse. He could feel Tomas staring at his back, waiting, dying to ask if everything was alright. "Just... give me a minute, yeah?" Marcus chanced a glance and saw Tomas nod, his face wearing a puzzled frown. Still, there was no protest, only the soft click of the closing door and Marcus let out a sigh.
"Why is it that each time I pray for a sign, you bring me him?" Shaking his head, Marcus looked down at his rosary, biting his lip. If God was answering, it was in ways Marcus didn't comprehend and it didn't make him feel any better. Doubt was growing in his heart each day he couldn't feel God's light coursing through his body and he wondered how long it would take until the power of words left him too. What will be left then? Just an empty shell of a boy that watched his mother being murdered by his father, a little boy who pulled the trigger and made himself an orphan. Marcus wasn't sure there would be anything left of him to salvage then.
Tomas knew something was bothering Marcus, something that wasn't connected to Harper or their latest exorcism. Maybe it wasn't even connected to Bennett and the last six months they spent on the road. No, this was something much deeper, lurking and dangerous and Tomas wished he could help his friend fight it. Several times that day he found himself wishing to ask, but knew the older man must decide to tell him himself. With Marcus it was like that... he could be stubborn to death, but the moment he decided, everything came pouring out in raw detail. Tomas hoped that when that happened, he would be near and not held down by his own demons.
They ate dinner in amenable silence. They prayed together and Marcus turned on the TV while Tomas prepared for bed. He still got easily tired and battled the residual headache, but thankfully the dizziness was gone. Lying down in bed, Tomas noted that Marcus at least turned down the volume a bit, although his choice of programming was more than questionable. The screen lit up in fire as an impressive car crash involving too many vehicles to count played out, killing almost everyone on the screen in one or other horrible way. Tomas frowned and Marcus chuckled, popping a candy into his mouth, his eyes shining like a kid who was allowed to stay up late.
"What are you watching?" And why? Tomas wanted to add but bit his lip when he saw the smile on Marcus face.
"Final Destination... dunno which one. Someone who's supposed to die survives and saves the others, so the whole movie they're being killed off in the most absurd ways. It's hilarious," Marcus said just as there was another gruesome death on the screen.
"Sounds... interesting," Tomas muttered, ignoring the smirk Marcus was giving him. "Think I'll give it a pass though. You can tell me in the morning if anyone survived."
"Doubt there will be anything to tell," Marcus said and turned back to the TV, though when there was another loud crash he turned the volume down even more. Tomas fluffed his pillow and lay down, hoping the sounds coming from the TV and Marcus' occasional commentary on the stupidity of one of the protagonist's actions would help lull him into a somehow peaceful sleep.
While he managed to fall asleep rather quickly, the sleep that came was anything but peaceful.
The dream started innocently enough. There was a boat, just a small rowing boat, not much bigger than a canoe. Tomas was in the boat with a paddle in each hand. He was sitting in the middle of a deadly calm lake. There was no ripple on the surface; the dark water looked almost like a mirror. The sky was grey, the sun hidden behind a cloud. Tomas could barely see the shore, the lake was covered with thick mist, but he started rowing and the shore was getting closer.
There was a figure standing on the shore and for a moment Tomas' heart relaxed, thinking it was Marcus here to help with whatever was wrong with this place. Because something was disturbingly wrong, Tomas just couldn't put his finger on it. After what felt like an eternity, Tomas finally reached the shore. A hand reached toward him, offering help getting out of the boat and he gripped it before realizing that this wasn't Marcus at all.
It was a woman... a stranger, but with familiar eyes.
"Quien eres tu?" Tomas asked and the woman smiled, but it wasn't a kind smile and Tomas felt a shiver run down his spine.
"Better question padre is, who are you?" she spoke, but the voice didn't belong to her and Tomas took a step back. He felt his leg stepping into emptiness, he expected to feel the boat under his feet but there was nothing, just cold water. No boat, no pier... and no woman. Only ice coldness and Tomas slipping underneath, gasping for breath and choking on water instead.
He felt himself sinking down into the darkness, felt the water fill his lungs with painful clarity. He wanted to scream, but there were bubbles of precious air leaving his mouth. The darkness closed around him and Tomas thought he might just be dying... maybe he was already dead. There was nothing, only him, the darkness and the sticky wetness pushing against every pore of his skin.
It lasted forever or maybe just a second, Tomas didn't know.
'Tomas?' he heard a familiar voice calling from far away.
'Tomas!'
A hand reached down, bringing light and hope. Tomas blinked, the water stinging his eyes but he didn't care anymore. There was a hand offering deliverance from this nothingness and with last of his strength, Tomas reached towards it.
There was a flash of light, a huge ripple tore through the water and suddenly Tomas was standing on a pier, his clothes dry and his lungs filled with precious air.
The shock of it drove him to his knees, a litany of prayers on his lips. He looked up, searching for the hand but it wasn't there. He still felt the warmth of it coursing through his body, but he was also acutely aware of the darkness crawling all around him in the shadows.
Somewhere in the back of his mind Tomas realized this was just a dream... God, he hoped it was just a dream and not a vision of things to come, but that realization was overridden by the sharpness of his senses, by his feelings. His skin was hot, but there was moist coldness in the air. He could feel a familiar smell of the aftershave and sweat mixed with the less familiar stink of rotting bodies and dead fish. It made his stomach turn, but there was nothing to come up and Tomas swallowed, his mouth suddenly parched. The worst thing however was the utter silence and the stillness of the air. As if time itself stopped.
"Hello?" Tomas called out, startled by the sharpness of the sound he made. It was like a crack of thunder and Tomas quickly turned around, as if expecting to be hit by lightning. It would've been a relief at this point; however, there was no such salvation. Instead there was the sound of steps on the wooden pier.
"Olivia?" Tomas asked with disbelief and frowned at the familiar figure that stepped out from the mist.
"Tomas!" Olivia ran towards him and Tomas enveloped her in a confused hug.
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh Tomas, he's gone," Olivia sobbed into his shoulder and Tomas froze.
"Who's gone?" he asked, his voice shaking.
"Luis. They... they took him. You must come back, come back home," Olivia gripped his shirt and looked at him with such despair Tomas couldn't think, couldn't speak. He felt that with each second the warmth that came from the hand raising him from the water was vanishing, being replaced by coldness and dread.
"No, it's not possible. You and Luis are safe in Chicago," Tomas finally said with choked voice, gently pushing Olivia from his chest.
"They took him, Tomas! Because you weren't there, because you couldn't protect us!" Olivia shouted, her pain quickly changing into anger as she hit Tomas on the chest. "They took my boy and he's gone, because you ran away like a little coward you are" the voice changed and Tomas gasped, pushing the woman away from himself. It still bore the face of his sister, but the eyes were wrong... the eyes were metal red and the smile was cold just like that water. The being inclined its head and laughed.
"What's wrong, padre? You don't like to hear the truth?"
"You speak no truth, only lies," Tomas said, a prayer on his lips. 'Father, in the Name of the Lord Jesus Christ I decree that, by your grace and wisdom, I, my family, my church and all those that concern me are well taught of You.'
The being only laughed harder, as if the words were of no consequence here, as if they had no power. Tomas started shaking and backing away, but he still kept on praying.
'We are well grounded in the Word and we know the difference between the holy and the unholy. We have discernment to differentiate the clean from the unclean and the true from the untrue. When life and death is set before us, we choose life. When blessing and cursing is set before us, we choose blessing. Therefore we live and do not die. We do not fall for lies and deception.'
"Ah, lies and deception are such strong words. Maybe I do speak the truth of the future... maybe you really are a coward who left behind his sister and nephew, in a city crawling with demons. Maybe you're the coward who's too afraid to stand up for himself, a coward who must hide in the shadow of an old lion. You're just a cub, Tomas, nothing more. A toothless cub brought to a hunt." Olivia, or rather the being wearing her face cackled and Tomas choked down a sob, shaking his head and repeating the words that should bring him peace.
'Lord, lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For yours is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.'
The being let out a howl of laughter and the metal red eyes turned back to the familiar black, which were now filled with horror.
"Tomas?" Olivia gasped in her own voice, then there was a sickening snap and Tomas watched as his sister fell to the ground in a boneless heap.
"No!" Tomas shouted and rushed over, cradling his sister in his arms. Tears poured down his face as the prayers were forgotten and all he could mumble over and over again was a wish for forgiveness, a plea to God to take him instead and spare his family. The body in his arms twitched and Tomas opened his eyes, only to find that he was no longer holding his sister but Harper, small and barely breathing, a look of accusation in her eyes.
"This is all your fault, Father Tomas. Look at me, look at what you did to me!" Harper gasped hoarsely as blood started pouring from her mouth and Tomas couldn't handle it anymore. He screamed in pain and rage, feeling as if his heart was going to burst from all of it. And suddenly there were hands all over him, small hands of children, sticky with paint and blood and Tomas could take no more. His eyes rolled back inside his skull and all he knew was darkness.
TBC