She wanted to go to her room. But her father would not let her. It seemed like he had divined her intentions already. Why were they holding her up here? She did not know. They were acting like something was wrong with her. However true, it creeped her out.
“Father, why, why are you holding me here? Say something. Scold me. Punish me. Please, I beg of you. I know I have been a bad daughter. I have broken many rules and for that, I beg your pardon. I am sorry. Please, father. I won’t do it again. I will never break the rules again. Let me go. Please.” She begged her father, hoping that he would speak to her.
What your father will tell you will horrify you. You should not have asked.
The voice said again. She jumped again making her father rise from his chair. He held her by her shoulders and pushed her onto the couch.
“Stay still!” commanded her father.
She had never been scared of her father. He had generally been nice to her even when she had broken rules, defied orders and been a nuisance to the village. Many times, she felt he was the best father she could ever have.
They were never distant. He used to make time for her everyday despite his busy schedule. Yet, now he seemed distant, rather taken away from her, viewing her as if she was someone different.
He will not be complacent on you. Not after what you have done.
It was getting irritating. Her father’s silence was too much to handle but this voice which seemed to her it came from her head – that was more than she could take. She thought of running into her room and slicing her wrists and ending her life. It was an apt punishment, she said to herself.
If you think dying will help you, think twice. End your life. I dare you. You know what? Shall I end it myself?
Suddenly, her insides burned. Howling in pain, she fell on the ground writhing. Her family stayed far from her, however, watching her sadly.
She felt helpless against whatever was assailing her. The will of the other force as she began to call it was stronger.
The pain was excruciating. Her mind was entering a delirious state. Nobody present could understand what she was screaming. In her heart, even she did not. She only knew she was screaming something, words she even did not know the meaning of.
And all of a sudden, the pain subsided and her body went still. Her breathing was heavy and she felt the itch grow stronger again.
Have you tasted my power, sweetie? Do you want more?
Tears flowed down her cheek like little streams. “I should have listened. I should have listened!” she cried sobbing.
If you had, how would you be like me? Trust me, Emily, you are more like me than anybody else; which is why I chose you to be my vessel. Don’t you get it? We are meant for great things, you and I. And great things we shall do. You will just have to compromise. Now, will you do it peacefully or do I have to force you?
“No, please, no” she screamed.
Very well. Now be a good girl and obey your father. Do as he bid. Perhaps the truth will horrify you but you need to know it. By knowing it, you may understand me a little bit more. A history lesson is in order, don’t you think?
She rose slowly from the ground and taking the help of a nearby flower stand, she sat on the couch. Her bones still ached.
Her grandmother was looking at her with concern. She saw her beckoning her father and whispering something in his ears. She pricked her ears to listen but no words reached her.
Her father now stood in front of her, staring directly at her.
“Are you Emily?” he asked, his tone rougher than usual.
What sort of question was that? Of course, she was Emily. Who else would she be?
“I am Emily, father. Don’t you know me?” she asked.
They think you are their daughter’s doppelganger.
The voice mocked her. She felt the itch grow stronger but her mind began to fill with laughter.
Her father sighed. He knew he would not get his answers out of her easily. Cursing himself that he had to resort to this, he went to a small wooden cupboard at the end of the hall and opening its creaking doors, he removed a silver chain with the pendant of a Cross hung at its end.
Fear grew in her heart. But she herself did not understand what was happening. She had never been afraid of the Cross before but now, she felt a fear that was strange to her. Maybe, she would be saved today. Maybe, the other force was afraid of it.
She hoped so.
Her father was beside her. He held the Cross in front of her eyes.
She tried to retreat back but her father held her tight.
“Look here.” He said. “Are you Emily?” he asked.
She lay silent.
“Speak!” he shouted.
She shuddered a little. She was beginning to feel a little cold.
Laughter emanated from her. She did not know why she was laughing but she was. It was uncontrollable. Fighting against the will of the other was excruciating. She felt her conscience getting strangled deep inside, her soul pushed behind the smoky veil of the other force. What the other force, she knew not but she could feel its power, its knowledge, and its dark motives.
“You know I am not Emily. I know I am not Emily. All know I am not Emily. Then tell me, Alaric, why bother asking? What purpose does it serve?” she said in her squeaky voice.
What was she doing? Her soul tried to push the other force away. She failed. It was too strong.
The truth dawned on her. Something was inside her. The other force had possessed her. And her family knew it. But how? Maybe she would find out soon enough.
“No purpose. But it would be courteous if you were introduced to us. It is only fair since you know ours.” Her father said, his voice calm.
She laughed again. “Fair? Since when do you humans know the meaning of the word fair? Are your trials fair? Do you judge fairly? Fair!” she spat. “How can you expect fairness when you do not deal fairly?”
“I am not here to argue with you. I know what is fair and what is not.”
“Do you? Maybe you don’t. Fair is a word too commonly used by pathetic people like you. You do not deserve to live.”
Her father scoffed. “I suppose you demons know the meaning of fairness. How fair is it that you hold my daughter captive in your war against heaven?”
She smiled. “Our war is not against heaven, Alaric. It is against your kind. We come hither to rule for we deem that your ego shall destroy God’s creations. Had our lord succeeded in convincing God, His Creation would have been safer. Look at what you have done.”
“You are not the judge of us. If anyone is, it is He who sits upon the throne of Heaven. Not the minions of Hell. Now, release my daughter.”
“Why do you think I will do that? She and I, we are same. Don’t you see?”
“Release her.”