Also, only certain people will understand certain things, and it's meant that way. I am debating on whether or not to keep in the little bit of this being in the Ghostbusters universe. If I do, then it would allow me to meet up with other franchises. If not, then I can publish it
. hahahaha. Enjoy!______________________
Log: 05.Nov.006 | 0239 hours
Case Codename/number: Renegade/#001
This will be my first official case log/memoir. I am going to write it as I remember it happened. Here on, I will make them descript and casual.
***
Little Natalie never got into any trouble. She always seemed to mind her own business, especially at school. It seemed that she was one of the more liked girls in her fifth grade class. She was taller than most girls her age, because of her legs. She had the body that would transform to be that of a model, some day. Right now, she just wanted to think about how boys have cooties, and how some day soon, she will have boobs. Her parents had her at Mary, Mother of Our Lord Private School simply because they could afford it. Both Mr. and Mrs. Hunt were highly recognized lawyers, so they thought it was only suitable for their little girl. Their little girl  how fast they grow up.
Natalie got sick. Her complexion was incredibly pale with a gross tint of green. She was reported to have been hospitalized many times. Her condition was reported to have included symptoms of dry, cracking skin, especially chapped lips. She reportedly had an inability to keep a lot of food down, as she was vomiting a lot. Her speaking was illegible, as was thought to be an effect from delirium caused by her illness. For five months, she was ill. I will touch more on this subject later.
***
It was last year that I remember this particular event starting; October 25, 2006, to be exact. The alarmÂs blaring whatever CD I had in there at the time woke me up. I think it was OutbreakÂs You Make Us Sick. Anyway, the problem with it was that it wasnÂt the time I had set for it to wake me up. I didnÂt have class until 11 AM. That was my only class that day, and I didnÂt like to wake up at 6:16 AM like my clock had said. The wonder of it all is that my roommate didnÂt wake up. ThatÂs when I noticed that I hadnÂt shut off my alarm, yet it wasnÂt going off anymore. I remembered there being a song, but not shutting it off. I went back to sleep.
Class was boring, as usual. It was just another lecture day that ended in giving an assignment that could have just as easily been given at the beginning of class so there was no need to listen to Professor WhatÂs-His-Face drone on. The University of Hartford campus was desolate that day, I could see. I had some time to kill, and by some, I mean I had no work that day. I went back to my room and pulled out some books to start studying. By study, I mean I brought out some of my old books on the dark arts, and various sources about different demons.
I suppose, since this is my first log, some introduction is in order. My name is Vincent. ThatÂs it. I was a college student at UHart. I am also a hunter. I hunt those that the norm donÂt usually see. At least thatÂs what I aspire to be. I try my hardest, and I have had cases before, so I suppose I am slightly professional. IÂll get more into that later.
I am just not all that great as it stands, right now. I used to be part of a small group of paranormal investigators, but I am and was the only one who happened to take it seriously enough to not get freaked out when there was a creaky door, and wanted to investigate into actually talking or even arguing with the spirits. Ghosts werenÂt and arenÂt my thing, however. I am a demon-man. Not that I am part demon and part man, no, but I specialize in demons and demonology. I was even an ordained priest at one point, if the internet counts. Now, I donÂt know what to believe. What I do know is that there are things out there that go bump in the night, and I am the only one around here that can bump back, so far as I know. Man, Hellboy was a sweet flick.
Perfect waste of time I threw in there. So, this is where we get back to my studying. Turns out, I wasnÂt as into it as I had hoped that day, as I had fallen asleep. I woke up to that damn alarm blaring again. This time seemed not as loud as it had that morning, but man, it was annoying. ThatÂs when it hit me, my alarm couldnÂt have been going off, I shut it off every morning when I get up. My eyes opened and I looked at the time. 6:16 PM. ÂClever, I said to myself. I knew, right away, what it was. This was no coincidence, just the poorly played out trick of some asshole frat boy. They always have to go after the kid they couldnÂt get to pledge, donÂt they.
I looked at the page I had fallen asleep on. It showed a large name across the top. In a bold, simple font, the title read Bael. I looked closely at the description. Bael is one of the highest ranked demons that there are. To be exact, he is a duke of the underworld. The eyes on the illustration looked as though they were staring right at me, all six of them. ÂUgly son of a bitch, I said to myself. I felt the air around me become cold, and my throat grow tight. The world around me went black.
I was standing in nothing. The area and everything around me was gone. At first I was confused. I thought I had blacked out, but I couldnÂt recall any time in my life where I had blacked out like that. Then again, people generally donÂt recall their blackouts, but they also donÂt know what is happening during them.
I checked my surroundings once more. There was still nothing. I tried to wander and search for something. It was about this time that I realized I couldnÂt move. I thought it had to be a dream. How many times have people told me about dreams like this? You just fall asleep without realizing then end up in a swift dream. But I never notice when I am dreaming  ever.
This was about the time that I had got a grip of what was actually going on. I remembered from one of my books, one of the ones I never cared for, mention something about a temporary demonic possession. I am not sure if I was actually possessed or if I was just being projected some sort of image, but I was not dreaming. That, I knew for sure. At that point I realized that I would have to wait it out, for some sort of messenger, or some sort of event. That or I needed to conjure up a spell to get me out of there, and quick. Being I didnÂt and donÂt actually know any spells by heart, nor did I have my spell book with me, I wasnÂt getting out of there my own way.
That is when I saw it. I didnÂt know what it was. Not at first glance, at least. I couldnÂt tell if it was just my eyes playing tricks or an actual object. ThatÂs when I realized I had seen it before. It was very familiar to me. It was something I should have noticed immediately, but I was so worried about what had happened that I didnÂt even notice it till this point. What ever it was, it was from the books I was just reading. Bael. His look was distinct  three heads on a spiderÂs body. One head was a cougarÂs; another was that of a toad. The one in the middle looked like a king. The only difference between him and a normal king was his bulbous nose, and his pointed elf-like ears. ÂUgly son of a bitch, I repeated.
ÂVos es unus aiunt ut can ingredior in totus of universitas. It started to speak. All three of the heads moved their mouths at the same time. ItÂs voice was low and droning. There was no emotion, just the sound. ÂVos vadum veho meus nuntius vobis , quod vindico is ut humanus in vestri misellus regnum. Is est meus mensis of meus vox. I had a hard time understanding what was being said. I didnÂt actually know any Latin, I only knew what I read as curses, spells, and incantations. I could only pick out certain words from what he, or it, was saying. ÂOctober ero satus of a novus tempus. EGO sum defessus of exspecto pro bellum inter Olympus quod Abyssus. EGO have instituo a porta in vestri universitas per sanctimonia of lectulus puella. Instruo , pro vestri vicis est sursum. It finished speaking and backed up slowly out of the ominous light it was standing in.
I was alone again, so far as I knew. The darkness still surrounded me, and I didnÂt realize it till this point, but I donÂt think that I was breathing. I was existing, but I was not breathing. I stood there, in that darkness, and I couldnÂt move. For what had to be an hour, I waited, growing bored, and tired. At this point, fear was about to overtake me. Then I saw another blurry form, it was coming at me, and it was doing so very fast. Then maybe five feet away, it came into focus. It was simply a face, a bloody, angry, screaming face. It wouldnÂt scare me normally, but flying at me like it did, I screamed like a five-year-old girl and flinched. What the hell was that all about? It wasnÂt even necessary. When I opened my eyes I was back in my room, sitting right where I had been.
I was daydreaming. At least, thatÂs what it seemed like at this point. I looked at the clock. The green digital numbers told me that the time was 6:17 PM. Could I have been sitting there for less than a minute? I thought to myself. That whole ordeal had to have taken an hour at the very least. I was frozen that spot for what seemed like an hour. Just a daydream, nothing more.
My thoughts betrayed me. As soon as I thought it was nothing more than my own fabrication, I felt a burning. It was strong, it was painful, and it was on my arm. I thought I leaned on my desk lamp. Looking down at my arm, I realized that the lamp could not have burnt me in any way, as it was not only on the opposite side of my arm from the lamp, but the lamp was across the desk.
I looked at my arm and saw the cause of my current agony. A mark started forming up my arm. It was a symbol resembling a pentagram, only it had more than five points. Also, there was writing in the circle around it. The language was the same as that which Bael spoke to me in, Latin. Legio Sexaginta Sex Everto Specto. The stinging stopped, but the mark was still there, and I had no idea what to do about it or what it was saying.
For the rest of the night, I had done nothing eventful at all, and it carried on as though it were a normal night. I had ended up going out with some friends that night, to hang out. I needed to unwind the best that I could so I tried to find a muse. There was a jazz band playing at one of the venues on campus, and a few of us decided it would be a good thing to go see them.
While at the show, I grabbed my usual cup of Chai Tea and sat down with a few of my friends, trying to keep what had happened to my arm under wraps, literally; I had a bandage wrapped around my arm in the spot that the burn had occurred. Silly me, I thought that it wouldnÂt bring any attention what so ever. Personally, I must be the biggest idiot ever.
People kept asking me various questions pertaining to what I had done to myself. Some asked how I got it; others asked if I did it to myself. IÂm just glad no one ever thought to just rip the bandage clean off. Then she walked in. Her name was Martina. We were in a class together and we had only briefly talked. From what I remember, she wasnÂt the nicest girl on campus, but at this point I didnÂt care because I remembered what her major was  Latin Studies. Despite her not seeming to like me, she decided it would be a good idea to sit next to me.
We exchanged smiles when she sat down. Well IÂm not sure if I can consider it a smile so much as me glimpsing at her, and her giving me the most horrifying death stare ever. Needless to say I pretty much shut up from there, and tried to enjoy the rest of the show. It wasnÂt easy sitting comfortably next to someone as cold as she, and because my tea was far too hot to drink.
The band had finished up their last set, and the crowd had just started clapping, and Martina had already gotten up to leave. I stood up fast, and followed her out the door, chucking my half-drank tea into the garbage. It was still too hot, anyway.
She walked fast, and very uptight-like. The entire time I was thinking how she must have been abused far beyond discipline for her to be like she is. ThatÂs when my mind shifted to think that maybe IÂm also being kind of creepy by following her. I tried my best to catch up with her.
ÂMartina! I shouted after her, half jogging. She stopped and let out a slow gasp of air, as though she knew something was coming.
ÂListen, none of the rumors about that are true, okay? She said without turning around. I stopped jogging, and walked slowly up behind her, letting my heart rate slow down a little bit.
ÂThatÂs not what what rumors? She turned around when I asked this, and seemed to have seen my face for the first time, despite having sat next to me for the last hour or so. She tried to regain herself.
ÂI, uh, sorry, I thought you were someone else, she stuttered.
ÂI get that a lot. I need to ask you something if thatÂs okay. ItÂs to translate something Latin for me.Â
ÂSure! She said with a smile. Apparently she liked her major a lot. I hooked the right fish with this one.
I tried my hardest to pronounce it right, but I know nothing about Latin. It came out phonetic and wrong sounding. We kept walking back to the dorms as I talked. ÂLegio Sexaginta Sex Everto Specto is what I wanted to say, and letÂs just say it came out not so good. ÂLee-geo Sex-uhh-jinta Sex (heh) Evert-too Specto? Way to go, Vinny, knock back the basis of modern language back a few more thousand years.
She smiled; she must have known what I was saying, anyway. I did real well. ÂThatÂs an easy one. ÂThe Legion of 66 Awaits.ÂÂ She said, but her face turned to confusion. ÂThere was another word in there, though, ÂspectoÂ. It means either ghost, spirit, or demon, but IÂm not sure which. Where did you hear this anyway?Â
But I was already running down the street back to my room to hit the books. Most people would have used this opportunity to Âget the girl or snag the trophy-like girlfriend that only goes for the outcast or nerdy guy, like every movie Cameron Diaz has ever been in. There was no time for that. I had a message burned into my skin by a demon, and I needed to figure out why. Why me?
I got back to my dorm. My prick of a roommate was sitting at his computer playing a game. In the off chance he left the room, he was still in the suite, annoying someone else. Why did he smell so bad? I opened the book I had, and ripped to the contents page, and the index. I searched for a few key words that I had hoped would yield results. Demon would be too vague, and sixty-six is just silly. I looked up Legion and found what I was looking for  sort of. I had to dive into different books, copying down anything I found that had to do with ÂLegionÂ. I didnÂt even care about the sixty-six, I needed to know what was going on in the smallest sense, first.
I knew I had heard it before, but I wasnÂt sure where. Legion. A singular demon comprised of many.
Shit.
***
NatalieÂs gibberish had changed from gibberish to language. Language that was no longer English. She spoke French, German, Latin, Spanish, and some form of an African language, from the sound of it. She did this all without her own voice, but with many at once. Her mother cried at all hours, and her father was afraid to come home from the firm. Doctors all left the house with scratches on their faces.
The Hunts were desperate.
***
I was desperate.
I had to find what they wanted me for, and what I would have to do to rid my self of this presence.
What is that fucking smell? I would think to myself. I hated my roommate.
I went to sleep, as it was incredibly late, and I had class the next morning. Granted, it was my only class of the day, but it was at 8 AM, and there was no possibility of me missing it if I wanted to pass.
The class went by as it usually did, and I learned nothing, but got my attendance grade, and went on with my day. I grabbed some breakfast back at my room, and skimmed over a book or two looking for what this Legion could want with me. I tried to not think to hard about it, as it didnÂt seem as though I were hard pressed for time. It was about noon by this time. My roommate sat at his computer, as always, being a waste of my space and time. I got up and changed into some gym clothes, grabbed my cell phone, and wallet, and was out the door. ÂClean up this fucking mess, I said, peeking my head back into the room.
I got in a good workout with my buddy Matt, and the bandage didnÂt irritate me too much. Fortunately, Matt didnÂt bother asking any questions of it, either, which was a relief. When we moved into the cardio room of the gym, so we could start working on abs, I saw that the television was on a news network. The volume was down, but I could read the ticker scrolling across the bottom, telling of their current story: CONNECTICUT POSSESSION. IS IT REAL? WHO IS TO BLAME? MORE DETAILS TO FOLLOW.
Fuck.
I went back to my room, and to that horrible mess, stench, and person. I showered and got changed and was out the door with my knapsack of books. I couldnÂt stand being in there for too long. The afternoon was nice, I spent it outside in the quad just taking in the weather, and occasionally glancing at a book. I had hit a dead end. I wasnÂt sure what I was supposed to be looking for anymore in the books, so I gave up for the time being, hoping an answer would come to me. The next few days were relatively bland with nothing but normal goings on. The story about a possessed girl had subsided, but not to me. I assumed they didnÂt want too much exposure for it, and for one the media had agreed. It was probably a bunch of religious zealots talking about the end of days or something. I recall hearing one of the Phelps clan from the Westboro Baptist Church saying something about it, as well.
Then came Sunday, the 29th of October. I entered my room that night after being out with friends. I didnÂt have a very early class the next day, but my friends did, so I figured I would leave them be, and I could get some work done.
What is that goddamn smell? I nearly shouted out loud. I put my stuff onto my desk and turned to face the source of my sensual anguish. ÂListen, you really have to clean the fuck  I caught site of what could be making such a smell. No longer was it my roommate sitting at the desk on the other side of the room, but a corpse that bore the vague resemblance to someone I was supposed to be living with. He slowly turned his rotting head around, and I saw his sunken eyes. ÂFuck.Â
He pounced with a yell, both arms outstretched. A golem. He was a golem made out of a dead body, apparently to do someone or somethingÂs bidding. They must have not calculated the rate of human decay. No golem is made perfectly and this was his imperfection. He fought me, trying to scrape, scratch and strangle, and I had no idea why. My bandage got ripped off in the tussle. I glanced over to it and it struck me, my mark was not meant for me.
I fought on, and flipped it around, piling myself on top of the decaying mess that was a human at some point. I punched and punched, without realizing that standard fight tactics were useless against it. I pinned it down; it was hard, the monster was strong.
ÂYou know about my burn, donÂt you? I said. He struggled to break free of my hold, without giving a response. ÂThis was meant for you, wasnÂt it? What are you meant to do?Â
The golem continued to put up a fight, without giving me any answer that I would want. So I decided to try something that I had seen in a movie once. I quickly grabbed a bible, and pinned him back down, as he struggled when I let him go. I muttered some remedial Latin and prayers from the Bible, doing a sign of the cross over the golem. I knew he wasnÂt a demon, nor was I even sure anything would happen anyway. I just really liked Constantine.
ÂIÂve seen that movie, half-man! IÂm not a demon, your words mean nothing to me! He breathed at me in a throaty, hollow voice.
ÂThen you wouldnÂt mind me finishing up, would you? You can stop me at any time, just tell me what you were meant to do. Ahem. ÂIn nomine Patris et fillii et Spiritus Sanc ÂÂ
ÂFINE, he yelled. I grinned with delight. That shouldnÂt have worked. ÂI am meant to be the key master, releasing Legion as he enters this world. I was meant to get that mark, not a half-man like you! ThatÂs all I needed to know.
I grinned and punched him so hard in the cheek that it cracked a piece of his brittle decaying jaw clear off. ÂI hope you know that those prayers do nothing for a slave like you. However, I said as I removed a piece of paper from the hole I left in his jaw. ÂYou gave me what I needed, and you may go back to being a corpse. With the removal of the paper, the golem went limp. When I opened the paper to see who had written the curse, it caught fire from an unseen source, and evaporated in my hand. The body turned to dust beneath me. I bandaged my arm back up and spent all night cleaning up the mess that had occurred from the tussle, and then neglected class the next day in order to take a nap. The smell was finally gone.
When I woke up, I turned to a news network to find nothing about this possession being reported any longer. I was relieved and concerned at the same time. It was in the state, so I could find it; I just needed to know where it was. I pushed my mind to remember what the name was. Hicks? That wasnÂt it. Hertz? Not quite. Hunt? DoesnÂt sound right. I tried them all anyway. Hunt had the largest search on Google. I tried to narrow it down: hunt girl, hunt ghosts. This ended up bringing in all the wrong sorts of websites. Then I tried what should have been obvious: Hunt possession. I found it despite my skepticism over the name. Her parents were lawyers in New Haven, Connecticut. I found their house thanks to the White Pages on the internet. Only an hour away at the most, but I didnÂt have a car. I went to my friendÂs room only to find he wasnÂt there. His roommate let me in and I tore up his desk looking for his keys. Bingo, in his top drawer I found them. I left a note that said just this:
Stole your car
Vin
The drive was long. It turned out that I had slept longer than I thought, and got caught in rush hour leaving Hartford. I got there around 6 PM. It seemed as though they were keeping things quiet enough, as there were three cars in front of their villa style mansion. Two of which I assumed were the parents cars, both LexusÂ, the other I thought was a maids. Then, out through their front door burst a Catholic priest. He was covered in blood and vomit. I knew I had come to the right place. He muttered under his breath and took a flask from a pocket and drank from it. Turning around he yelled back at the house ÂMake sure ya return my video camera when someone can actually cure that Hellion! He climbed into the driver side of the third car and sped away. This is going to be fun.
I walked up to the open door, to hear screaming come from up the gorgeous marble stair and I rang the doorbell. ÂHello? I shouted inside. From the top of the stairs I could see a face poke from behind a wall. She was pretty, or at least could have been if she werenÂt incredibly disheveled looking. Her face was pronounced, but beaten, and her eyes were stunning, although the circles around them showed signs of lack of sleep. She walked down the stairs, cautiously to me. ÂI hear you need an exterminator, I said with a smile.
ÂYou you know of our Natalie? She said, shakily.
ÂI know of her, and I know many other things. I think I can handle your little problem.Â
ÂChuck! She screeched in an ambiguous direction. Seconds later a man came sliding across the polished tile floor on his socks, two-by-four in hand. His clothes were torn, and his hair was graying. He seemed like he had had just as little sleep as the missus and might have gone a little more insane. More screams came from upstairs, and he put down his impromptu club. ÂThis young fellow thinks he can help our little Natalie, she said.
ÂHeÂs just a kid! How the hell can he do anything? Asked Mr. Hunt to his wife.
ÂUh, IÂm standing right here, sir, I shot at him angrily.
He looked me up and down. ÂSo what are you supposed to be, some sort of Ghostbuster? He snidely remarked, with a grin, just as angry as I was.
ÂNo, sir, not a Ghostbuster, I grinned, adjusting my knapsack on my shoulder and looking him dead in the eye. ÂIÂm a renegade.Â
I pushed passed him and his wife up the stairs, grinning to myself at the coolness of what I just said. If I could have been moving in slow motion, I would have been. I turned at the top of the staircase toward the source of more screams, and found myself at a door with loud banging sounds on the other side. I opened the door.
This is as good a time as any to talk about just why IÂm not a Ghostbuster. Aside from my young age (being 18 at the time of this situation), I really had no idea what I was doing in any of this business. No idea.
I got knocked against a wall by a strong force as soon as I entered the room, and the door slammed behind me, nearly exploding through the frame. My shirt got cut up, my bandage got ripped off, and my head got knocked against a wall. I was out.
I woke up, or at least I thought I woke up. I was in a black area, nothing around me. This time, however, I could move, and I knew full well what was going on. I was going to be spoken to by this demon. Bael came forward from the darkness. I donÂt know how I could see him, but I could.
ÂThere was a mistake. You should not be the one here. The golem is meant to free Legion. For we are Legion. We are many. You will perish, I could understand him.
I felt strong, and powerful. Something was happening to me that I was not able to understand. I knew what I was doing.
ÂVos es non licitus huic terra. Vos must vado tergum quo vos venit ex. Ego to order is. Reverto ut orbis terrarum of obscurum. This time, I was the one speaking Latin. I was doing it pretty good, too. I had no idea what had come over me. I kept repeating this line, without even thinking. I wasnÂt even sure of what I was saying, but it felt good. I felt the power flow through me. Bael retreated with every step I took toward him, and with every time I said the line. I donÂt know how many times I had said the line , it mustnÂt have much, but I built up each time I said it, until I would round it off as though it were a prayer. ÂIn nomine Patris et fillii et Spiritus Sancti. AMEN. The world around me went light, like a star had exploded around me, and a wind blew me back to where I should have been.
When I noticed what had happened, I realized I was no longer in the dark world, but I was standing over the terrified looking Natalie, smoke or steam rising off my body like it does in the winter, after working up a sweat. I had my cross out over her forehead, with a grip so strong on it, there was blood trickling out over it. I lowered the cross and tried to figure out what had just happened.
ÂMaria? Maria!? Came a tiny voice from below me. Natalie was speaking in tongues again. I quickly tried to remember what I was saying when I was blacked out.
ÂIn nomini Patris ÂÂ I started, with the cross extended over her head again, but was only cut off by the door bursting open, and an obviously Spanish maid rushing in, only to be followed by the Hunts.
ÂMaria! Natalie squealed, receiving a crushing hug from who I assumed to be Maria. NatalieÂs complexion had returned to that of a healthy little girl.
I kept my arm stiff, the cross planted firmly over the air above NatalieÂs head. My eyes were wide, and my breaths were deep. I felt a hand on my shoulder.
ÂWell, you did it, my boy, said an exhausted Charles Hunt with a half smile. ÂWhat do we owe you?Â
I didnÂt say a word. I straightened up, and looked around the room for my belongings. Everything from my knapsack was scattered about. I gathered what I could, including the priests video camera, and rushed out of the room, down the stairs and out the front door. When I opened the car door, I through everything into the passenger seat, sat in the driver seat, without turning the car on, and let out one long horrified scream. I slammed my head once against the wheel, and left it there, breathing heavily, with sweat trickling down my face. I turned the car on and looked at the time. 12:00 AM. ÂHeh, I started. ÂHalloween I beat you to it, mother fuckers, I said as though I knew if the date was significant at all. I felt a burning in my arm and turned on the overhead light. I let out a yell of pain and watched the burn change from ÂSexaginta Sex to ÂSexaginta QuinqueÂ. Fuck.
I got back to my room at school around 12:50 AM. I was exhausted, but I knew that I still had unfinished business. I hooked up the priestÂs camera to my computer with a USB cable. I watched him get his ass kicked by an unseen being as Natalie laughs with it. Fast forward. I see as soon as I walk into the room, IÂm blown against a wall. I got up almost instantly, but I donÂt remember that. I grinned at the camera, with a deep look in my eyes, and continued to speak. This version of me wasnÂt speaking in Latin like I was thought. However, Natalie wasnÂt speaking in English like Bael was. It was reversed. On top of that, everything had seemed like it was moving in slow motion, which would explain the time gap.
ÂIllic eram a erroris. Vos should non exsisto unus hic. golem est vilis eximo Legio. Pro nos es Legio. Nos es plures. Vos mos pereo, little Natalie had said in a horrifying voice.
ÂYou are not permitted in this land. You must go back to where you came from. I command it. Return to the world of darkness, I repeated to her over and over again, finally topping it all off with ÂIn the name of the father, the son and the Holy Spirit, AMEN!Â
All of my movements I donÂt remember doing, like splashing her with holy water, or branding her with a cross or Bible. My body and my mind were separate, but both were fighting the battle. I watched the video over and over, trying to figure it out. I won that one, and that was the simplest answer. But that wonÂt happen every time. Then it struck me.
I had class the next morning.
Fuck.
