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High-class demon exorcisms were Father Azrael Traugott's specialty. He w...
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Aurora found herself lying on her bed the next morning with bandaged wrists. She immediately straightened to sit, but an instant shooting headache made her drop in pain.
"You should rest Aurora. Don't overexert yourself," Sister Clarice kindly said to her, sitting in a stool a few inches away. The nun had been with her the whole night as it was what Father Azrael had strictly instructed. Any unusualities, she must report immediately even if it was in the dead of the night. Luckily, there have been none, to the Sister's relief.
"Sister Clarice? Why are you here?" Aurora looked up, touching her forehead with her palm.
"Father Azrael told me to take care of you. He brought you here unconscious and bruised."
"Oh?" With that, Aurora recollected everything that had happened in the school. Whatever she saw that time, whatever she experienced, it was as real as the mattress she was lying. She was truly thankful that Father Azrael had come to her aid. However, there was a question that lingered in her mind, and to answer it, she would have to confront Father Azrael face to face.
"All right, I think you are hungry. I should go and prepare breakfast for you." Sister Clarice stood up and turned to the door.
"No Sister, that is not necessary. I can stand up, see?" Aurora jumped up and stood straight, fighting the shooting headache off. She had an undebatable expression and a determined face when the nun looked at her.
"Hmmm... I can see that, but you still need to rest okay?" Sister Clarice negotiated.
"Yes Sister, don't you worry," she guaranteed and then went to pull her bath towel that hang behind the door.
Sister Clarice smiled politely as she left. Now, Aurora finally had the room for herself. She had so much in plan to do this day, but first things first, she needed to bathe and get the stink of the demon out of her.
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Father Azrael was already awake at six early in the morning. After finishing his entry on his journal, he slid his brown leather coat on, completing his ensemble. He had already worn a black clerical shirt with a tab collar inserted and black slacks. The pectoral cross was left dangling on his chest. He immediately set foot, intending to reach the orphanage house riding a cab.
