Madison slammed her bedroom door with such force that the family photos on the hallway wall rattled in their frames. The sound was satisfying—a small rebellion, a tiny explosion of her rage. She flicked on the light, squinting against its sudden harshness.
Without hesitation, she pushed her desk across the floor, its legs screeching against the hardwood like fingernails on a chalkboard. She wedged it firmly against the doorknob—a makeshift barricade that wouldn't hold forever, but might buy her precious minutes.
Her hands trembled as she reached for her cell phone. She opened the LIVE FEED app, her face filling the screen, pale and drawn with fear. The "LIVE" indicator appeared in the corner, a small red eye watching her. She felt a flutter of hope—someone out there would see this. Someone would know.
She reversed the camera and rushed to her dresser, propping the phone against a worn stuffed bear, its once-cheerful face now seeming to mock her with its stitched smile. She positioned it carefully, making sure the lens captured her bed, then stepped back.
"This may be my last post," she said to the invisible audience. Her voice sounded strange to her ears—too calm, too detached, as if she were reading lines from someone else's tragedy.
She lowered herself to her knees, watching the thin sliver of light seeping beneath her door, an amber sentinel. Tears pooled in her eyes as she stared into the cold, unblinking eye of the cell phone’s camera.
"I'm pleading. I have no one but you and no one has called for help. No one has—"
Footsteps in the hallway cut her off. Two sets, moving deliberately. Madison's breath caught in her throat as she watched two shadows eclipse the light beneath her door.
Knock. Knock.
"Please..." The word escaped as barely more than a whisper.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"I need help." Her voice grew stronger now, desperation giving her courage.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Help!" She was shouting now, no longer caring if they heard the fear in her voice.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Anyone!!!"
The door burst open with such force that it hurled the desk forward. Madison sprang aside, tumbling to the ground as the desk slammed into the wall, one leg splintering on impact.
Grace stormed in, sweat glistening on her forehead despite the room's chill. A clerical stole hung around her neck like a dead snake, and her right hand clutched a crucifix so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. Faith followed just behind, her face a mask of maternal anguish.
Grace reached down and yanked Madison from the floor, her fingers digging into soft flesh hard enough to bruise.
Faith’s eyes burned with rage. "What did you do to Hope?" Her voice cracked on the last word.
Madison twisted in Grace's grip. "What have I done? What did you do!?"
Grace's face contorted, her features assembling themselves into something almost inhuman. "What evil game did you play with her head, demon!?"
"What in the Hell is wrong with you?" Madison tried to wrench free, but Grace's grip was like iron.
"Begone, Devil!" Grace shoved the crucifix against Madison's chest with such force that the wind rushed from her lungs. She nearly buckled, stars dancing at the edges of her vision.
"The demon weakens!!!" Grace's voice rose to a fevered pitch. Faith’s face twisted with desperate relief, like a castaway spotting a ship on the horizon, not yet realizing it's drifting away.
"It's working," Faith whispered, her eyes wide.
"Move her to the bed." Grace's command spurred Faith into action.
Madison gasped for air, her lungs burning. "You're crazy! Let me go." But they overpowered her easily, dragging her toward the bed as if she weighed nothing.
They threw her onto the mattress. The springs creaked in protest beneath her weight. Before she could scramble away, they pinned her down, Faith's hands shaking but determined.
Hope appeared in the doorway, limping badly. Her face was a canvas of fresh bruises, her right eye beginning to swell shut. "No! Let her go!"
She hurried toward the bed, but Grace swatted her away like an annoying insect. "Moron, you're getting in the way."
Something snapped inside Madison—not fear but pure, white-hot rage. She growled, animal-like, clawing and kicking at Faith with every ounce of strength she possessed.
"I'll never forgive you for this!" The words tore from her throat, raw and final.
Faith's eyes welled with tears, hurt blooming across her face as if Madison had slapped her.
"Stay strong!" Grace commanded. "It is not your daughter speaking to you! Your daughter loves you unconditionally. Have faith!"
Faith looked at Grace and nodded, drawing strength from the other woman's certainty. Grace turned her attention to Hope, who stood frozen in the doorway.
Grace’s face was stone, her eyes hard and unyielding. "You know this needs to be done! Help us before it's too late. If we lose her soul, you will never forgive your—"
"Fine!!!" Hope limped forward, defeat written in every line of her body. "What do you want me to do?" Her voice was flat, lifeless.
Grace’s eyes sharpened, turning cold. “Help.”
Madison's eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for escape, for mercy, for any sliver of sanity in this nightmare.
Hope ripped the sheet out from under Madison’s body, then tore it into four jagged pieces with surprising strength.
"Please—" Madison began, but the rest of her plea died as Grace and Faith struggled to hold her still. "—let me go. You're all crazy!" She thrashed harder, but Hope was already securing her right wrist to the bedpost, wrapping the torn sheet around both and pulling it tight enough to cut off circulation.
Madison bit down on a pillow and hurled it at Grace's face. Hope moved to her left wrist, wrapping another strip of sheet around it and the opposite bedpost, pulling it equally tight.
Madison kicked her legs wildly, her heel connecting with Faith's shoulder.
"Faith, hold her legs!" Grace's command cut through the chaos.
Faith hesitated, then moved to secure Madison's thrashing legs while Hope struggled with another piece of torn sheet.
"Help me!" Madison's scream was cut short as Grace's hand clamped over her mouth, fingers digging into her cheeks.
Hope finished the knot around Madison's ankles. Faith eased her weight off, moving back as if afraid of what they had created. Grace removed her hand, leaving Madison to scream into the empty air. But the restraints held fast.
Grace retrieved the crucifix while Faith arranged candles on the bedside table, her hands trembling so badly she nearly dropped one. Hope stared at Madison, her face unreadable.
"What are you going to do to me?" Madison's voice cracked. Fear washed over her in cold waves, drowning the anger that had sustained her moments ago.
Faith was about to light a candle but hesitated, the match burning down toward her fingertips.
"Please, help me." Madison softened her voice, directing it at Faith—her mother, who had once sung her to sleep, who had bandaged scraped knees and kissed away tears. Faith's hand wavered.
"We have to silence this demon!" Grace's voice cut through the moment like a knife.
Hope's gaze shifted toward the bedroom door—toward escape—but Grace grabbed her chin, forcing eye contact.
"Hope! Hope, snap out of it! We need a gag!"
Madison's screams echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls, but not penetrating them. Even if they reached the outside world, there wasn’t anyone who could help.
Hope blinked rapidly, as if coming out of a trance. Grace groaned in frustration.
"Pull yourself together, Hope!"
"Get me out of here, Hope!" Madison pleaded, focusing all her desperation on the one person who had tried to help her earlier.
Tears streamed down Hope's face, carving glistening paths through the dust and sweat.
Grace rushed to the dresser and yanked open the top drawer, rummaging through its contents.
"I don't know what to do!" Hope's voice was that of a lost child.
Madison turned her head to Faith, her last hope. Her mother's face quivered with the effort of holding back emotion, eyes swimming with unshed tears.
"I'm here, baby. I know you're in there. Mommy's right here." Faith's voice was gentle, the same voice that had once chased away nightmares.
"Please. Pleas—" Madison began, but Grace was back, shoving a balled-up sock into her mouth, cutting off her words.
"Faith, finish lighting the candles." Grace's voice brooked no argument.
Faith wept as she lit each candle, their small flames casting grotesque, dancing shadows across the walls. Madison tried to speak around the gag, her words emerging as muffled, incomprehensible sounds, but the hatred in her eyes needed no translation.
"Faith, do not let the Devil deceive you!" Grace commanded. "Keep your trust in the Lord and have faith in His strength. Hope's weak. I need you to be strong for Madison, for all of us."
Faith glanced at Hope, then rushed to Grace's side like a faithful dog returning to its master. Hope stared at Madison, who continued to thrash against her restraints, the bed frame creaking in protest.
"If you're so concerned, then hold her down, moron!" Grace snapped at Hope. "She's going to hurt someone," she added, her voice softening just enough to sound reasonable, concerned.
Hope wiped away tears with the back of her hand and moved to the bedside. She placed her hands on Madison's shoulders, pressing her down into the mattress. The touch was gentle compared to the others, but a betrayal nonetheless.
"Faith, the Bible!" Grace looked expectantly at Faith, who appeared momentarily confused.
"It's in the living room," Faith said, her voice small.
Madison wailed around the gag, the sound transforming into gut-wrenching sobs. Hope's face crumpled. "This is too much. I'm gonna have a panic attack. I can't watch this. I can't handle—"
Grace's hand cracked across Hope's face, the slap echoing like a gunshot. "Calm down! Step out, take a moment and get it together, grab the Bible, and come back."
Hope remained frozen, her gaze locked with Madison's. In that moment, something passed between them—a silent communication, a plea, a promise.
"Go!" Grace shouted.
Hope broke the connection, turning to leave. Madison felt something inside her crumble as Hope limped out of the room. Hope, who had tried to save her. Hope, who had been her only ally.
"AND COME BACK!" Grace shouted after her, then turned back to the bed, making the sign of the cross over herself.
As the candlelight flickered across Grace's face, Madison saw not religious fervor but something else entirely—something hungry, something that had nothing to do with God or devils or salvation.
Chapter 28