The Exorcist (39 page)

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Authors: William Peter Blatty

Tags: #Horror, #Fiction, #Exorcism, #Supernatural, #Horror fiction, #Demoniac possession, #Media Tie-In

BOOK: The Exorcist
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"I can't!" Face contorted, Chris was staring at the quivering syringe. Shook her head. "I can't do it!"

 

Karras plucked it from her fingers. "All right, swab it! Swab the arm! Over here!" he told her firmly.

 

"...in her coffin, you bitch, by..."

 

"Don't listen!" cautioned Karras again, and now the demon jerked its head around, its eyes bulging fury, "And you, Karras!"

 

Chris swabbed Regan's arm. "Now, get out!" Karras ordered her, flicking the needle into wasted flesh.

 

She fled.

 

"Yes, we know of your kindness to mothers, dear
Karras!" croaked the demon. The Jesuit blenched and for a moment did not move. Then slowly he drew the needle out and looked into eyes that rolled upward into their sockets. Out of Regan's mouth came a slow, lilting singing, almost chanting, in a sweet clear voice like a choirboy's. " 'Tantum ergo sacramentum veneremur cerniu...' "

 

It was a hymn sung at Catholic benediction. Karras stood bloodlessly as it continued. Weird and chilling, the singing was a vacuum into which Karras felt the horror of the evening rushing with a horrible clarity. He looked up and saw Merrin with a towel in his hands. With weary, tender movements he wiped away the vomit from Regan's face and neck.

 

" '...et antiquum documentum...' "

 

The singing. Whose voice? wondered Karras. And then fragments: Dennings... The window... Haunted, he saw Sharon come back in and take the towel from Merrin. "I'll finish that, Father," she told him. "I'm all right now. I'd like to change her and get her cleaned up before I give her the Compazine; all right? Could you both wait outside for awhile?"

 

The two priests stepped into the warmth and the dimness of the hall and leaned wearily against the wall.

 

Karras listened to the eerie, muffled singing from within. After some moments, he spoke softly to Merrin. "You said--- you said earlier there was only... one entity."

 

"Yes."

 

The hushed tones, the lowered heads, were confessional.

 

"All the others are but forms of attack," continued Merrin. "There is one... only one. It is a demon." There was a silence. Then Merrin stated simply, "I know you doubt this. But you see, this demon... I have met once before. And he is powerful... powerful...."

 

A silence. Karras spoke again. "We say the demon... cannot touch the victim's will."

 

"Yes, that is so... that is so... There is no sin."

 

"Then what would be the purpose of possession?" Karras said, frowning. "What's the point?"

 

"Who can know?" answered Merrin. "Who can really hope to know?" He thought for a moment. And then probingly continued: "Yet I think the demon's target is not the possessed; it is us... the observers... every person in this house. And I think--- I think the point is to make us despair; to reject our own humanity, Damien: to see ourselves as ultimately bestial; as ultimately vile and putrescent; without dignity; ugly; unworthy. And there lies the heart of it, perhaps: in unworthiness. For I think belief in God is not a matter of reason at all; I think it finally is matter of love; of accepting the possibility that God could love us..."

 

Again Merrin paused. He continued more slowly and with a hush of introspection: 'He knows... the demon knows where to strike...." He was nodding. "Long ago I despaired of ever loving my neighbor. Certain people... repelled me. How could I love them? I thought. It tormented me, Damien; it led me to despair of myself... and from that, very soon, to despair of my God. My faith was shattered...."

 

Karras looked up at Merrin with interest. "And what happened?" he asked.

 

"Ah, well... at last I realized that God would never ask of me that which I know to be psychologically impossible; that the love which He asked was in my will and not meant to be felt as emotion at all. Not at all. He was asking that I act with love; that I do unto others; and that I should do it unto those who repelled me, I believe, was a greater act of love than any other." He shook his head. "I know that all of this must seem very obvious, Damien. I know. But at the time I could not see It. Strange blindness. How many husbands and wives," he uttered sadly, "must believe they have fallen out of love because their hearts no longer race at the sight of their beloveds! Ah, dear God!" He shook his head; and then nodded. "There it lies, I think, Damien... possession; not in wars, as some tend to believe; not so much; and very seldom in extraordinary interventions such as here... this girl... this poor child. No, I see it most often in the little things, Damien: in the senseless, petty spites; the misunderstandings; the cruel and cutting word that leaps unbidden to the tongue between friends. Between lovers. Enough of these," Merrin whispered, "and we have no need of Satan to manage our wars; these we manage for ourselves... for ourselves...."

 

The lilting singing could still be heard in the bedroom. Merrin looked up at the door and listened for a moment. "And yet even from this--- from evil--- will come good. In some way. In some way that we may never understand or ever see." Merrin paused. "Perhaps evil is the crucible of goodness," he brooded. "And perhaps even Satan--- Satan, in spite of himself--- somehow serves to work out the will of God."

 

He said no more, and for a time they stood in silence while Karras reflected. Another objection came to mind. "Once the demon's driven out," he probed, "what's to keep it from coming back in?"

 

"I don't know," Merrin answered. "I don't know. And yet it never seems to happen. Never. Never." Merrin put a hand to his face, tightly pinching at the corners of his eyes. "Damien... what a wonderful name," he murmured. Karras heard exhaustion in the voice. And something else. Some anxiety. Something like repression of pain.

 

Abruptly, Merrin pushed himself away from the wall, and with his face still hidden in his hand; he excused himself and hurried down the hall to the bathroom. What was wrong? wondered Karras. He felt a sudden envy and admiration for the exorcist's strong and simple faith. He turned toward the door. The singing. It had stopped. Had the night at last ended?

 

Some minutes later, Sharon came out of the bedroom with a foul-smelling bundle of bedding and clothing. "She's sleeping now," she said. She looked away quickly and moved off down the hall.

 

Karras took a deep breath and returned to the bedroom. Felt the cold. Smelled the stench. He walked slowly to the bedside. Regan. Asleep. At last. And at last, thought Karras, he could rest.

 

He reached down and gripped Regan's thin wrist, looking at the sweep-second hand of his watch.

 

"Why you do this to me, Dimmy?"

 

His heart froze.

 

"Why you do this?"

 

The priest could not move, did not breathe, did not dare to glance over to that sorrowful voice, did not dare see those eyes really there: eyes accusing, eyes lonely. His mother. His mother!

 

"You leave me to be priest, Dimmy; and send me institution...."

 

Don't look!

 

"Now you chase me away?..."

 

It's not her!

 

"Why you do this?..."

 

His head throbbing, heart in his throat, Karras shut his eyes tightly as the voice grew imploring, grew frightened, grew, tearful. "You always good boy, Dimmy. Please! I am 'fraid! Please no chase me outside, Dimmy! Please!"

 

...not my mother!

 

"Outside nothing! Only dark, Dimmy! Lonely!" Now tearful.

 

"You're not my mother!" Karras vehemently whispered.

 

"Dimmy. please!..."

 

"You're not my---"

 

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Karras!"

 

Dennings.

 

"Look, it simply isn't fair to drive us out of here! Really! I mean, speaking for myself it's only justice I should be here! Little bitch! She took my body and I think it only right that I ought to be allowed to stay in hers, don't you think? Oh, for Christ's sake, Karras, look at me, now would you? Come along! It isn't very often I get out to speak my piece. Just turn around now."

 

Karras opened up his eyes and saw the Dennings personality.

 

"There, that's better. Look, she killed me. Not our innkeeper, Karras--- she! Oh, yes, indeed!" It was nodding affirmation. "She! I was minding my business at the bar, you see, when I thought I heard her moaning. Upstairs. Well, now, I had to see what ailed her, after all, so up I went and don't you know, she bloody took me by the throat, the little cunt!" The voice was whiny now; pathetic. "Christ, I've never in my life seen such strength! Began to scream that I was diddling her mother or something, or that I caused the divorce. Some such thing. It wasn't dear. But I tell you, love, she pushed me out the bloody fucking window!" Voice cracking. High-pitched now. "She killed me! Fucking killed me! Now you think it's bloody fair to throw me out? Come along, now, Karras, answer me! You think it really fair? I mean, do you?"

 

Karras swallowed.

 

"Yes, or no," it prodded "Is it fair?"

 

"How was... the head turned around?" asked Karras hoarsely.

 

Dennings shifted his gaze around evasively. "Oh, well, that was an accident... a freak... I hit the steps, you know.... It was freaky."

 

Karras pondered, a dryness in his throat. Then he picked up Regan's wrist again; And glanced at his watch in a move of dismissal.

 

"Dimmy, Please! Don' make me be alone!"

 

His mother.

 

"If instead of be priest, you was doctor, I Live in nice house, Dimmy, not wit' da cockroach, not all by myself in da apartlnent! Then..."

 

He was straining to block it all out, but the voice began to weep again.

 

"Dimmy, please!"

 

"You're not my---"

 

"Won't you face the truth, stinking scum?" It was the demon. "You believe what Merrin tells you?" It seethed. "You believe him to be holy and good? Well, he is not! He is proud and unworthy! I will prove it to you, Karrasl I will prove it by killing the piglet!"

 

Karras opened up his eyes. But still dared not look.

 

"Yes, she will die and Merrin's God will not save her, Karras! You will not save her! She will die from Merrin's pride and your incompetence! Bungler! You should not have given her the Librium!"

 

Karras turned now and looked at the eyes. They were shining with triumph and piercing spite.

 

"Feel her pulse!" The demon grinned "Go ahead, Karras! Feel it!"

 

Regan's wrist was still gripped in his hand, and now he frowned worriedly. The pulse beat was rapid and...

 

"Feeble?" croaked the demon. "Ah, yes. A trifle. For the moment, just a bit."

 

Karras fetched his medical bag and took out his stethoscope. The demon rasped, "Listen, Karras! Listen well!"

 

Karras listened. The heart tones sounded distant and inefficient.

 

"I will not let her sleep!"

 

Karras flicked up his glance to the demon. Felt chilled.

 

"Yes, Karras!" it croaked. "She will not sleep! Do you hear? I will not let the piglet sleep!"

 

As Karras stared numbly, the demon put its head back in gloating laughter. He did not hear Merrin come back into the room.

 

The exorcist stood by him at the side of the bed and studied his face. "What is it?" he asked.

 

Karras answered dully, "The demon... said he wouldn't let her sleep." He turned haunted eyes on Merrin. "Her heart's begun to work inefficiently, Father. If she doesn't get rest pretty soon, she'll die of cardiac exhaustion."

 

Merrin looked grave. "Can you give her drugs? Some medicine to make her sleep?"

 

Karras shook his head. "No, that's dangerous. She might go into coma." He turned as Regan clucked like a hen. "If her blood pressure drops any more..." He trailed off.

 

"What can be done?" Merrin asked.

 

"Nothing... nothing..." Karras answered. "But I don't know--- maybe new advances---" He said abruptly to Merrin, "I'm going to call in a cardiac specialist, Father."

 

Merrin nodded.

 

Karras went downstairs. He found Chris keeping vigil in the kitchen and from the room off the Pantry he heard Willie sobbing, heard the sound of Karras consoling voice. He explained the need for consultation, carefully not divulging the full extent of Regan's danger. Chris gave him permission, and Karras telephoned a friend, a noted specialist at the Georgetown University Medical School, awakening him and briefing him tersely.

 

"Be right there," said the specialist.

 

He was at the house in less than half an hour. In the bedroom he reacted with bewilderment to the cold and the stench and with horror and compassion to Regan's condition. She was now croaking gibberish. While the specialist examined her, she alternately sang and made animal noises. Then Dennings appearied.

 

"Oh, it's terrible,"' it whined at the specialist. "Just awful! Oh, I do hope there's something you can do! Is there something? We'll have no place to go, you see, otherwise, and all because... Oh, damn the stubborn devil!" As the specialist stared oddly while taking Regan's blood pressure, Dennings looked to Karras and complained, "What the hell are you doing! Can't you see the little bitch should be in hospital? She belongs in a madhouse, Karras! Now you know that! Really! Now let's stop all this cunting mumbo-jumbo! If she dies, you know, it's your fault! All yours! I mean, just because he's stubborn doesn't mean you should behave like a snot! You're a doctor! You should know better, Karras! Now come along; there's just a terrible shortage of housing these days. If we're---"

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