Consumed- The Complete Works

by Kyle M. Scott

  In the movies, there was hellfire and horror, bloodshed and depravity. Had the nightmare really come to an end so swiftly? The priest’s reputation, her local minister had assured her, was impeccable. He was seasoned in this work, scarred and hardened by his battles with the enemy’s soldiers. But could he be that good? Had he, by the grace of God, dispelled the demon and saved her son? It seemed too good to be true, yet little Joseph looked so peaceful in his slumber. There was even a hint of a smile on his face while he dreamed. Seeing that familiar, wonderful smile, after the endless days and nights when nightmares clung to her son’s psyche like parasites, she dared to hope.

  “As you can see, he’s sleeping peacefully now,” the cleric said.

  “Is he…is it over?” she asked, almost pleading.

  “The rite? No…no, Linda. The rite has only just begun.”

  Linda’s heart sank. Her fragile, fleeting joy snuffed out like a precious flame on a poison wind. Bitter tears stung her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She licked them away and tried to keep her fragile faith in the Lord and his emissary intact. Without realizing it, she’d lifted her own rosary beads from her pocket somewhere between leaving the room and re-entering. She toyed with them in her clammy palm, searching for comfort and finding none.

  The priest stared out into the blinding morning sunlight. Somewhere off in the distance, among the white picket fences and the hedgerows, Linda heard children play. Their carefree laughter seemed to mock her.

  All those people out there…my neighbors…the rich and the respected, all living in the lap of luxury just as we were, tending their perfect lawns and washing their expensive sports cars, scooping fallen leaves from their pools and supping wine in their warm Jacuzzis. They have no idea. No idea at all what lurks beneath the surface of their plenty. They think they’re free…They’re nothing but rare flies in a silken, shining web, waiting to be devoured.

  Just like me.

  All this wealth, all this success, and look where I am. Look where my son is…

  “I can save your boy, Linda,” the cleric said. He turned on his heels to face her. “But to do so will require a true act of faith. I sense your doubt, and no one would blame you. The things you’ve seen…the horrors…No parent should endure such torment as this, and no child should ever be afflicted by such evil. We all have crisis’ of faith, Linda. All of us. Even myself. We would not be human otherwise.”

  “Does God forgive?”

  He smiled, though it looked worn down. Sad.

  “He forgives, Linda…he forgives. We are all his children. But…”

  The word hung in the air like transparent radiation.

  “But?” she asked, terrified of his answer.

  “But we have to prove our devotion to him.” The tall priest took two steps towards Linda and reached for her hands. He held them gently in his own as he searched her tear-bruised eyes. Linda had never felt more exposed.

  “Can you do that, Linda? Can you take a leap of faith?”

  She tried to speak and found she had no words. Instead, Linda nodded.

  He squeezed her hands gently. Tender as he was, her own felt like an infant’s in his massive grasp.

  “Good…that’s good, because I have to ask something of you, my child, and it’s not something I ask lightly…”

  She listened intently, swallowing down her fear like bile.

  “The being inside your boy…I’ve spoken with it. I know its name, though I will speak it not until the time is right. Believe me when I say the entity is as powerful as they come. It’s as ancient as time and more cunning than you can possibly imagine. The act of faith must be great. It must be one of total trust in the Lord. I say this with a heavy heart, Linda, as such matters may seem detestable, even to a man of the cloth, such as I.”

  Linda looked to her son, still sleeping easily. The swell of love she felt in her heart was almost overwhelming, threatening to obliterate all else.

  I can do this. For him. Whatever it is, I can do this…

  “I’ll do anything for him, Father.”

  His smile had faded now. In its place was tight-lipped, grim determination. “That’s very good to hear, my child, for the method we must practice to free your son is…and I hasten to even call it by its proper terminology… a ritual of sex magic...”

  4

  All the air seemed to be sucked from the bedroom.

  “Did you say, ‘sex magic’?” she asked, her mind swimming in confusion.

  The exorcist nodded sternly. “The practice dates back as far as the very first teachings of the church, though it is rarely spoken of for obvious reasons. Such things are not for public consumption. These matters are beyond the comprehension of the simple followers of the faith, and it is only those initiated into the exorcist’s order who learn of them…

  “Those, and the poor souls who must undergo the ritual. People like you, Linda…”

  Linda’s heart thundered in her chest.

  “Father, I…”

  He let go of her hands. “Please…allow me to explain as best I can…”

  “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “Thank you,” he looked down on her son, his features worn with care, seeming to have aged years in less than an hour. “The demon within him feeds on hate, Linda. It feeds on the erosion of all that is natural and right. All that is imbued with the delicate miracle of life. Like the demon’s father…and I’m certain you know of whom I speak…it seeks only to corrupt the spirit and devour the light. To still the waters of existence, if you will. The act of sexual coupling is an insult to the entity’s non-existence. The union of two souls flows with the power of hope and the symbolism of life anew. There is nothing sinful in the act of sex…not if the spirit is pure.”

  She hastened to question the priest’s methods, but found she must, even as it cleaved fresh furrows through her faith. “Is this a Christian practice, Father?”

  “It is writ in scripture, yes, though not as scripture is known to the world at large. This truth, and others, are held deep beneath the Vatican in vaults that stretch far as the eye can see. There is much more to our religion than we may assume, Linda.”

  She studied his eyes and saw only kindness there, and something that looked like shame. Perhaps it was regret. Where previously he’d bristled with vitality, the man now looked every inch his age and more.

  She thought of Joseph, and of his eternal soul.

  What choice did she have, but to have faith?

  “I’ll do it,” she answered. “When and how do we…”

  “Now, my child. Time is short and the boy teeters on the precipice. I’ll direct you through the ritual, step by step, moment by moment…”

  “Father…”

  “There’s no time, Linda. Now follow my instructions, please…”

  5

  Linda lay down on the rug by the side of her son’s bed. Her knees were trembling as she raised them, placing her feet flat on the floor. Her underwear, she’d already removed. As she lifted her skirt up over her knees and allowed it to slide down over her thighs, bunching at her stomach, she could see the priest before her. Spreading her legs as instructed, she looked over at little Joseph, who still slept sweetly in the arms of quietude.

  It must be this way, she told herself, repeating the priest’s instructions. The demon inside him must witness the coupling. It has to see life in defiance of its corruption.

  Still, she felt nauseous.

  Above her, the exorcist stood, sliding out of his garments. First, he kicked off his shoes, then went his socks, and finally, he removed the jet-black pants, revealing a pair of very white boxer shorts.

  Despite herself, Linda gasped.

  Pressing against the soft fabric, an enormous erection strained to be free. His eyes were locked on the tender opening between her legs. He watched her as she dutifully began to ready herself for him, doing as the practice demanded. She rubbed slowly at her sex, teasing the small, swollen nub of her clitoris with fingers already
slick with her juices, then probing the depths of her sex as her natural lubricant eased her finger’s passage. With no little shame, Linda found herself drawn again to the priest’s oversized manhood. Still watching her intently, the minister slid his underwear down to his feet, releasing his full length, and seeing it in its full glory, she gasped at the sheer size of it. It throbbed in time with her own heartbeat, its swollen helmet already glistening wet with pre-cum.

  How long had it been since she’d lain with a man? Not since Joseph Senior had died. Years ago. Now here she was, her heart crashing like a bass drum in her chest, her lips dry, her breath caught in her throat, about to save her son by laying with a man she barely knew. A man of the church, and the first since her husband.

  And she liked it.

  She rubbed herself faster, her circling finger teasing around her throbbing clit. The priest was stroking himself as she worked her wet centre frantically. On his face, he wore the same care-worn expression as before. Now, though, it was tempered by a man’s natural lust. She wondered if he’d even blinked since she’s presented herself to him, and smiled inwardly. As her legs bucked and she moaned beneath him, he lowered himself between her legs.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, sounding far away.

  “Yes,” she panted, her eyes never leaving his pulsing, rigid prick as he gripped it in his huge hand and positioned it before her silken slit. She felt the tip of it kiss the quivering flesh between her thighs. “Yes, I’m ready.”

  “Then we’ll begin.” She felt her lips spread apart as he slid smoothly into her waiting, welcoming sex.

  Linda forgot all about her son on the bed.

  She grunted as he eased his full length into her, marveling at the sheer size and girth of him. Her walls clamped like a vice on his swollen, pulsing cock as she arched her back and raised her hips, desperate to envelop him all the way.

  “Look at me,” he demanded.

  Linda stared into his eyes as he slowly began to tend to her. When he withdrew his length from her depths, she whimpered at the loss, and sighed in delight when he slid it back home. He writhed atop her, his thickness plundering her insides, teasing her with the sweetest ache.

  Soon, the priest’s slow, controlled gyrations grew in intensity and speed. The sexual dance became wanton, desperate. Linda felt she may tear apart down there as he fucked her, and found she couldn’t care less.

  She tried to silently apologize to her long-deceased husband, but all thought was obliterated as the older man thrust harder still, touching new, secret places inside her she never even knew existed.

  She could feel those strong, calloused hands grab the flesh of her ass as he pushed himself ever deeper, pulling her towards him to meet his thrusts. One finger, she felt tickling the rim of her ass. Then, quicker than she could properly register the act, his finger was inside her.

  Is that part of the ritual? She vaguely wondered as he explored her holes with delicious abandon.

  The thought fled her.

  She was going to cum.

  Oh, sweet Jesus, she was going to cum.

  She’d tried many times to get herself there since Joseph’s passing. She’d tried everything…dildos, porn, vibrators, those little eggs you inserted inside before leaving the home…but had always been unable to reach that hallowed peak from which there was no return.

  “Father, I’m coming. I’m coming!” she screamed.

  She could feel her walls grip his swollen cock like a vice as the wave of her orgasm rushed towards her shores.

  “You must look at me,” he demanded once more.

  It was hard to see straight, but Linda did as he asked.

  He was smiling now, and in his smile, she sensed something other than the previous kindness and warmth.

  Something feral.

  Something rabid.

  Fear kissed her psyche, but the rising swell of pleasure in her deepest most intimate place muted it momentarily as he drove himself into her. When it came, the orgasm tore her mind apart.

  “Oh Jesus, please, don’t stop. Fuck me harder, Father. Fuck me harder!” She screamed at the top of her lungs as her body quaked and the priest continued to pound her towards fresh ecstasy.

  Then, Linda saw something impossible.

  Something that, even in the heat of her lust, her mind tried to understand and could not.

  The priest was grinning now, pleased with his ministrations, though that was not her concern. Her concern was the sickly-yellowed, rotted teeth beaming at her from behind a now-filthy beard.

  Hadn’t he had perfect teeth? And his beard was clean, wasn’t it? What the hell is…

  She came for a second time.

  In the desperate rush of orgasm, Linda’s confusion mixed and merged with the conflicting pleasure, though it was short-lived.

  The priest leaned forward, his face almost touching her own, and on his breath, she smelled a disgusting blend of fresh shit and rotting meat. She gagged instantly, throwing up in her own mouth, betrayed by gravity. As he fucked her, she instinctually swallowed the thick soup back down before she choked on it. His eyes bored into her soul and his cock dug deeper into her body while she gagged on the foul fluid.

  Then came the pain.

  It seemed his cock was growing down there, swelling ever more massive. No longer simply stretching her vaginal walls but threatening to tear the very flesh apart like wet paper. Linda screamed again, but there was no pleasure in it this time. She was still screaming when the stinking fetid priest leaned forward, still thrusting, and forced his now-black, boil-pregnant tongue into her mouth. She recoiled while the festering, pus-oozing meat explored. A satisfied groan escaped him as he swirled his bulbous tongue around the walls of her mouth, savoring the vomit that still lingered there. It felt as though a huge slug had slithered its way into her orthodontic orifice and made home there.

  Linda kicked and bucked beneath the holy man, her eyes wide and brimming with stark terror as he determinedly explored her by any entrance at his disposal.

  Inside her anus, the priest’s finger seemed to grow and grow, slithering deeper into her depths than any finger should or could. She felt the nail grow sharp, razor-like, and then he was clawing at the walls of her anal passage, splitting the skin inside, digging deep while hot blood spilled down the inhuman digit and poured from her asshole onto the hand that gripped her down there. His hand cupped the spilling soup of shit, skin and blood as though it was a chalice.

  Struck immobile by the pain, she met his eyes. They were so close now and seemed to have taken up the whole world, casting out all light, all meaning, all hope. The whites had disappeared completely, as though the pupils had bled across the entirety of the eyeballs. Now, where his kind, caring blue eyes had been, there were black holes, deeper than the dark untouched ravines beneath the sea; endless, timeless, bottomless.

  In them, she saw her husband.

  He was writhing in torment as dark, shapeless things gnashed at his flesh and peeled off his skin, stripping the meat free and snapping off bones for play. Huge, other-worldly insects crawled from his mouth, silencing his screams before scuttling up his face and going to work on his eyes.

  Linda felt something come loose in her mind as the unspeakable horrors dismantled her wailing, tortured husband’s soul.

  She was close to plunging over the abyss and into sheer madness when, as quick as it had manifested, the vision vanished. The jet-black, soulless eyes burned with glee as the vision receded, the spiritual horror replaced by a blinding, searing pain that eclipsed the unholy cleric’s ministrations in her asshole and lit up her face like fire. Blood welled around her lips, spilling over and sluicing down her cheeks in a red torrent as the priest-thing, still thrusting with its impossibly swelling cock, bit deep into her tongue, wrenched the meat free, and began chewing.

  There was no time to understand the trauma. No time to marvel in horror at this fresh hell.

  The priest was about to cum. She could feel it.

 
Linda spluttered and coughed, drowning in her own blood, praying it would all be over quickly as the dark thing above her grew and grew between her legs. It felt as big as an arm down there.

  Bigger…

  She heard the wet, tearing sounds before she felt them.

  Linda howled as her vaginal walls split, ripped and tore apart at the mercy of the beast’s manhood. Above her, black, pitiless eyes swirled with malice as it let loose a guttural growl and, with one final thrust that ruptured her internal organs, the demon reached orgasm. It laughed cruelly as it pumped its foul seed into her gushing, shredded vagina, and Linda felt every expulsion of its lust splashing upon her mulched organs as she began to fade.

  With a long, satisfied sigh, the priest-thing slid from her torn, ragged sex, bringing with it a swell of churning, writhing maggots that dripped and squirmed from the dark, ripped-up red hole in a crimson and white waterfall.

  Linda, life leaving her, could feel its semen moving within her, exploring the mangled meat; the sentient ejaculate preparing to feast.

  Shadows of oblivion crept around the periphery of her vision and, terrified of what awaited in the gathering darkness, she turned her head towards the bed where her precious son lay.

  Joseph’s eyes were open. The boy watched her from far away as she drifted on waves of agony and fear. His wide, terrified eyes pleaded with her as the shadows coalesced, eating the world away. Darkness claimed her, and in its imperceptible depths she heard the gnashing of teeth, the clicking of claws.

  She died in the grasp of agony and terror.

  After that, Linda’s ordeal truly began.

  6

  Flicking a stubborn maggot from the tip his still-hard cock, the thing that had been the cleric tucked away its member in the underwear. Its size had shrunken back to that of a normal man, if perhaps a very well-endowed normal man. It pulled up the priest’s pants, zipped and buckled them. Then it turned towards the little boy still tied to the bed.