My limbs feel like they’re not responding to my commands. I try to take a step forward, but my feet don’t move. I feel like I’m choking on something—even breathing takes a monumental amount of effort.
I try to tell myself that this is just panic, that I’m having a panic attack—I mean, obviously I’m having a panic attack, right now who wouldn’t have a panic attack?—and that I need to breathe through it, but taking in a lungful of air feels almost entirely impossible.
It doesn’t take me long to realize that I can't do anything. I'm standing in place, completely unable to move.
Even my internal monologue feels scrambled.
My hand fists around the rosary, the little beads leaving marks in my palm. As I watch Tom, I realize that this isn’t what I expected.
And it doesn’t matter.
What I expected doesn’t matter because this is what’s happening, and I guess I just have to fucking deal with it.
Tom laughs. “Welcome back,” he says, except it’s not him, it’s something else, someone else. It’s…there’s a lot of them, his voice layered, the sound reverberating around the walls. “We missed you.”
I’m vaguely aware that the exorcists are looking at me, but I can’t look back at any of them. I can’t do anything but stand there.
I hear Luke say a prayer, his voice loud, but I can’t process any of his words.
Tom screams in pain. This time, it sounds like him.
His head tilts back, again, and his neck looks like it’s about to snap, and then Luke is next to him, praying loudly, as Rei waits for him to fall.
Misha stands in front of me, his arm outstretched.
I think none of us breathe as we wait.
“Hold on,” Luke says. “Stay with us, Tom. We’ll get you out of this.”
The tension snaps.
Tom falls, his body thudding, bouncing on the bed. He’s completely prone, his eyes glazed, but I can tell he’s alive as Rei moves closer to him to take his vitals.
I’m still not sure if I’m even breathing when I feel Misha’s hand clasped on my shoulder. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get some fresh air.”