Original Sin

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No one could hear Moira’s piercing screams; they were in her head, as trapped as she was by the ancient demon who was luring the man she loved to his death.

Peter, her lover, her life, the reason she wanted to survive, held out the cross and chanted an ancient exorcism.

Her palms went up, facing him. The demonic energy building within pulsated outward and grabbed her lover by his throat. Squeezed. It was as if her own hands were tightening around Peter’s neck with inhuman strength. But Moira was many feet away from him, the demon using her body to channel his satanic energy. Peter was dying, struggling for breath as he collapsed to the floor, scratching at invisible hands around his neck, drawing his own blood.

Moira witnessed the shock on Peter’s face. The pain. The disbelief. With a flick of her wrist, the malevolent demon hurled him across the room with enough force to crack the stone wall. Peter dropped twelve feet to the ground, dead …

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