Where the Devil Says Goodnight (Folk Lore #1) - K.A. Merikan Page 0,46
gave way, and he stumbled to the wooden floor, trying to catch his breath while his flesh adjusted to all the new bruises. How many strokes had it been? He’d stopped counting at twenty.
He’d brought this suffering upon himself. Every day. He jogged past Emil’s home with the purpose of seeing him, even if in passing. Every day when he fell asleep, Emil’s dark hair covering both their faces was the last thing he thought of. Since he’d arrived in Dybukowo, there hadn’t been an hour when he didn’t desire Emil. And when he didn’t think about him, Emil came to him in dreams.
It wasn’t normal.
None of his previous infatuations had been anything close to the obsessive way Emil occupied Adam’s mind. It was unnatural. Infernal in nature.
Adam struck his back again and again as he pondered Emil’s past, the crows that murdered Mrs. Zofia, and today’s divination. What if there was a grain of truth to the gossip about Emil, but Adam had been too blinded by his own adoration of the man to notice the devil lurking in the shadows?
Adam believed in God. Believed in the devil. Was it really so improbable that Emil used dark magic to lure men?
“You need to listen to my voice,” someone said so faintly Adam spun around, dropping the scourge from the shock when warm breath tickled his ear. But he was alone.
Or was he?
His bruised skin pulsed as if it had been scratched by hundreds of sharp claws, and the ache spread all over his body, pulling at muscles and pushing his head into a spin. Adam glanced at the painting of Jesus. Was he dreaming? “My Lord?”
The picture didn’t move, but the voice he’d heard earlier whispered with the slightest lisp. “I know a way to rid you of this burden,” it purred, echoing as if it was a choir of several different whispers
Adam’s throat tightened, and he pressed his forehead to the cool floor as the tightening in his insides turned into agony. “Please. I can’t live like this anymore. Please, help me. Save me.”
“You shouldn’t hurt your body for what it craves. I will help.”
A slither made Adam’s skin crawl, and when he glanced at the wooden statues of Adam and Eve, something seemed amiss. He couldn’t pinpoint what, but when his gaze met the red crystal eyes of the snake, gravity grabbed him with such power he could not lift a finger. Instead of creeping behind leaves, like it had been, the beast had its whole head out, still as motionless as wood should be, even if Adam could have sworn the sculpture looked different when he’d last seen it.
The altar creaked, but when Adam searched for the source of the noise with vision blurred from tears, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. His eyes wandered over the portrait of the former pope on the side wall and then up the figure of Eve, but despite his senses screaming in alarm, he couldn’t find the strength to move.
Something stirred in the wooden leaves of the Tree of Knowledge. His first thought was that perhaps it was the shadow of one of the tall poplars that grew around the parish buildings, but no.
What Adam saw threatened everything he believed about the world. The snake carved in wood over three hundred years ago twitched, and then its body slid down the trunk as if he hadn’t gained flexibility only seconds ago, but had always been made of flesh.
Adam jumped to his feet when the beast let out a hiss that echoed under the ceiling, as if there was much more space above than the physical size of the church should allow. The snake dropped to the floor with a wet slap and crawled towards him, leaving a bloody trail on the polished wooden floor.
“Oh God…” Adam’s first instinct was to escape the building the way he’d entered it, but the serpent already blocked his way, its thick flesh zig-zagging in a wave-like motion as it approached Adam at an unsettling pace. It wasn’t even made of wood anymore. It was alive. “It can’t be… you… you’re not real…” Adam’s breath hitched as he stumbled backwards, eyes never leaving the huge reptile. He had to reach the main entrance if he wanted to get out of this alive.
“This is my domain. Your God doesn’t reside here, Adam.” It was words and hissing at the same time, as if the serpent spoke straight to his soul.