Confessions Chapter 3

                       Chapter 3 thriller stories

poemsaboutlife poet/writer/thinker/dreamer
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Chapter 3. Can some things be forgiven?

Confessions Chapter 3

Father Damien stared at this well dressed young man with a look of shock on his face at what he was hearing. There had always been rumours that flew around small towns, he was well aware of that. People always liked to gossip, it was unavoidable, especially where everyone knew everyone else and more importantly, they knew each others business.

The local coffee house was the place to be to hear the most juiciest of tales from both old and young. There was always a story floating on peoples lips. The ones of satanic practices was no different.

Every so often something would happen concerning a person that seemed a little strange and before you knew it there was a whole concoction of ideas doing the rounds from possession to devil worship to the character of the family involved. It would seem that everyone had an opinion. For the priest this was just what it was, gossip and he paid it no mind. That was until now.

Now, for the first time, someone had come in to his church and confirmed that people did indeed practice satanic rituals and this was something he was not expecting. There was of course the usual drunken mishaps, the use of profanity and even the occasional extra marital activity but never anything to do with satanic worship.

“He saw you?”, asked the priest. “I don’t know” “What do you mean?”, asked the holy man, puzzled. “When he turned and looked at me I felt different. I was suddenly freezing cold. All the hairs on my arms stood up. I could feel something inside of me.

I could feel myself staring at this man and not blinking. I was looking at him and yet it was not me looking at him. Then all of a sudden I felt angry. Really angry. I wanted to go up to these people and hurt them. I knew that I would not but the feeling inside me was really strong. All of a sudden I felt a sharp pain on my arm. It felt sore, like it had been scratched.

I pulled up my sleeve to have a look and there on my left arm were three red lines. I have no idea how I got those but they were there. When I looked back at these people the man that looked at me was looking into the fire again. At that point I knew I had to get out of there. I quietly went back through the bushes and made it back to the path to get out of the woods”

“Are you saying something possessed you?”, asked the priest cautiously. He knew from his religious training that there were strict rules that had to be followed in cases of possession. “Wait Father. There’s more” “Go on”

“I don’t remember how I got home. The next thing I remember is waking up the next morning. My arm didn’t hurt anymore and when I looked at it the scratches were gone. I thought nothing of it and carried on with my morning. You know doing the usual stuff.

Getting ready and what not. I went to Maggie’s with my laptop to get my morning coffee and that was where I saw her. She was not a local and from what I overheard she was on vacation for the summer from university. There was nothing special about her except for her long black hair. That’s what caught my eye”

“What you overheard?”, interrupted Father Damien. “Yes. She was talking with the waitress when she was paying for her coffee. As I watched her I had this strange sensation. I wanted to lick her face. It was all I could think about. Nothing else mattered. I wanted to lick her silky smooth cheek and her nose all the way up to her forehead.

I don’t know why. I just did. The urge was really powerful. So powerful that I followed her down the street. I didn’t even know where I was going, I just knew I had to follow her. As I followed her it was as if I was not looking at her. I mean I know I was doing it but it did not feel like it was me doing it. She turned into the cross walk between Adelfie Street and Bowmans Place.

It was there that I caught up to her. I grabbed her arm from behind and span her round and placed both hands on the sides of her head and pushed her against the wall. I looked deep into her eyes. They were wide as anything. Before she could even struggle my tongue was out and it slid up her cheek slowly. The more she tried to resist the harder I held her head.

I licked one side and then the other. The next thing I knew an anger swelled up inside of me. I could feel rage. Intense rage. I pulled my head back a little and stared into her eyes again. I don’t know what came over me. I span her around and twisted her neck and in one swift twist I snapped it and she was dead” “You murdered her?”, asked the priest.

“Yes and no. Yes Father I killed her but it was not me. There was something inside of me telling me to do it. It was as if I was compelled to do it. I could not stop it” “I see my child”, were they only words the priest could manage at this moment.

Mason leaned forward a little more in his chair and the corners of his lips raised very slightly.

Mason leaned forward a little more in his chair and the corners of his lips raised very slightly. “But Father”

Mason leaned forward a little more in his chair and the corners of his lips raised very slightly. “But Father” “What is it?”

Mason leaned forward a little more in his chair and the corners of his lips raised very slightly. “But Father” “What is it?” “I enjoyed it!”

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