Where the Devil Says Goodnight (Folk Lore 1)

“I prayed, and that voice answered. I removed all three offerings in the parsonage. I don’t know what I did wrong!” Adam said, hiding in the sweater that was oversized on Emil but became a sack on him.

“There should be four. For each cardinal direction. Wait. Why would you remove them in the first place?”

Adam shrugged. “I— didn’t want pagan symbols around me.”

Emil let it go for now. It would have been fastest if they traversed the fields, but after the downpour, the roads would be more favorable, despite all the mud.

Adam took a deep breath and stepped that bit closer, glancing over his shoulder as if he expected something to crawl out of the ditch and follow them with its teeth bared. Even Emil, who was used to the quiet of this remote countryside, felt uneasy once they left the homestead behind. It wasn’t his first time walking so late, but Adam’s behavior sent his senses in fearful overdrive and made him aware of each sound, each animal howl in the distance.

Fog was thick enough to obscure the path under their feet, but it hung low over the ground, as if the spirits of the earth were out enjoying their freedom before sunrise.

“Were you honest when you said you didn’t remember what you said to me during the fortune telling? Or was that a joke?” Adam asked after a long moment of silence.

Emil frowned, fighting the urge to wrap his arm around Adam’s shoulders. He knew Adam needed comfort, and his heart ached to provide it, but his touch was unwanted. “What did I say?”

“Really creepy shit about a goat and a feast,” Adam said, breathing loudly as he sped up, hurrying through the white vapors. “It scared me.”

Emil frowned, his stomach getting colder with each step. “Are you saying I’m also possessed?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what to do about this. There’s exorcisms, but—”

Emil shook his head, wishing they were at the church already. No wind moved the wheat field as they passed, as if the storm had been a product of their imagination. “God… he doesn’t play tricks on people, right?”

Adam gave a sharp laugh as they passed through the open gate into the churchyard. “How would I know? He never spoke to me.”

“You’re a priest! You studied the Bible! Does God trick people or not?”

Adam inhaled, leading the way along the side of the church, all the way to the small back door, which hung open. “He tests people’s faith sometimes. Job is the most famous example from the Old Testament. He was a happy, wealthy man who loved the Lord above all, but Satan challenged God, claiming Job was only so godly because he’d been blessed with a good life. God then agreed to a bet of sorts and allowed Satan to torment Job. The man lost his family, his livestock, everything, but he still refused to speak against the Lord. I suppose that had been a test of faith rather than a trick for the sake of it.”

Emil shook his head. “I’ll take your word for it. So you think God might be testing you like this?”

He was wary of entering the place where Adam claimed the demon had attacked him, but he didn’t want to be a coward and walked into the church first. He’d never been at the back of the altar before, but candlelight guided him to the well-lit space at the front. The church looked normal, as if nothing sinister could have possibly happened here. Yet it had.

Adam exhaled. “I always believed the story of Job was just a fable for the ancient Hebrews. A God so selfish and cruel couldn’t be the same entity who offers His own son to save humanity in the New Testament. But maybe I was wrong? Maybe He is spiteful and wants to tell me he doesn’t need someone like me to serve Him,” he said, as he reached the steps that led to the aisle between two rows of benches.

Emil’s face twisted when he noticed a whip with several tails on the floor, and he immediately thought back to the dark bruises and welts covering Adam’s back. He was about to ask about it when Adam froze, and his face fell.

Emil rushed to his side, and when he followed Adam’s gaze to the altar, he stiffened too. The wooden snake from the sculpture of the Tree of Knowledge lay on the floor ripped in half, as if it had been struck by a powerful blow with an axe.

“Fuck.”

Adam wheezed, resting both hands on the altar table, but wouldn’t look away from the broken sculpture. “It’s all real. And it’s all my fault, because I let you get to me.”

Emil faced him with a scowl. He’d meant to leave this issue to rot at the back of his mind, but enough was enough. “Oh, so I caused you to stray from the righteous path? Don’t you see I’ve been violated too? I didn’t agree to—whatever that was. You coerced me into sex after repeatedly rejecting me, and then burned me with your bare hands!”