Baring his teeth, Giles snarled like a wildcat and began shouting, vile things pouring from his lips.

Father Messen winced, shaken to hear such filth, especially from him. A regular congregant, he attended mass faithfully, tithed, volunteered to help the needy, and was one of the nicest people ever. But over the last few days, nothing about him had been typical. His wife had called the priest sobbing, reporting things so far-fetched he'd questioned her sanity. But then he'd seen for himself…

Several ropes secured Giles to the chair but he fought to get free, lunging this way and that like a crazed animal. His bonds loosened abruptly before breaking. Leaping to his feet, he eyed the statues standing around the room, and grabbed one. It was solid marble but he hefted it as easily as a pencil, threw the thing at the onlookers, and they jumped out of the way. Shattering, chunks shot in all directions. A dresser made of black ironwood sat nearby. Despite being one of the heaviest woods in the world, Giles didn't show even a glimmer of strain when he lifted and threw it.

Father Messen managed to avoid being struck, but barely. So did Father Hilton, who was with him.

Ranting non-stop, Giles switched from English to Latin, Mandarin Chinese, Russian, Swedish, and other languages. But his eyes never left the priests.

"Come on," Messen urged Hilton. "We can't do anything now and have to leave."

However, the other priest stood shock-still, eyes widening when Giles charged toward them.

Messen tugged him along by his arm and they fled through a side door, slamming and locking it behind them. Loud thuds sounded from the other side.

Several congregants who'd awaited them hurried past to deal with Giles. Scuffling and bellows followed but he was eventually subdued and secured with ropes once more.

Switching into teaching mode, Messen asked Hilton, "What did you notice about our poor brother?"

"He was unusually strong. And it sounded like he spoke in a bunch of different languages."

"You're correct. Strength beyond what's humanly possible and speaking in tongues are common characteristics of demonic possession. Others include a marked aversion to the sacred, having hidden knowledge about things a person couldn't know on his own, and physical anomalies like unusual physical reactions, contortions of the body, or the like. And soon, we'll have a chance to see how he reacts to prayer…"

"Couldn't some of those characteristics be due to other things, though?"

"Yes, which is why the first order of business was ruling out Giles having any physical illness or mental health issues…"

Returning to the other room, Messen took items out of his large satchel one by one and positioned them on a table several feet away from the bound man: a small crucifix followed by a larger one, ancient scriptures wrapped in a soft cloth, a bottle of Holy Water which he poured into a chalice, and other things.

Giles viciously spouted hatred and curses.

Ignoring that, the priest recited aloud, "In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, I renounce and reject the spirit of evil. I rebuke you in the name of…" Holding up a crucifix, he recited the St. Michael the Archangel prayer and urged the other man to join in, but vituperation was the only response. He dipped a finger into the Holy Water and flicked it at Giles. Smoke rose from each place a drop landed and the man flushed, face going redder by the second. He cackled evilly, slowly turned his head to the left, but it kept turning, making a full revolution.

Raising his voice, Father Messen prayed more urgently. He laid a crucifix directly on the man's skin, and he roared in anger. "Unclean spirit, I command you to leave this man in Jesus' name," Messer pronounced, flinging Holy Water in accompaniment to his words.

The possessed responded with anger and crudities. And on and on it went, with the priest alternating between prayers, using consecrated water, and placing crucifixes on the man.

Giles eventually stopped yelling and resisting, his body drooping. When he raised his head several moments later, his face had returned to its normal color, eyes clear. Clueless, too. "What's going on?" he asked. Upon trying to stand, it dawned on him he couldn't move freely, and he gaped at the priests. "Why am I tied up?"

They wasted no time in releasing him and he stretched slowly. However, he raised an arm to point at Father Hilton, whose neck snapped audibly. He fell to the ground motionless.

"That's impossible," Father Messen uttered. "I cast the demon out of you."

Giles laughed. A translucent form stepped from his body, speaking in a deep voice. "You were blinded by ego and pride, thinking you were powerful enough to command me."

The priest shook his head in disbelief. "But I did everything right… the same steps I've used successfully before. How is this possible…?"

"You've had limited success with lesser demons, but I'm very different from them."

"Lesser?"

"I am Lucifer," the demon announced in ringing tones. "One of the most powerful of God's sons. I was called Morning Star but you're nothing but a puny, weak mortal." Shooting through the air, he surged into Messen's body.

"No!" the priest wailed. "I command you to leave me in the name of…"

"Shut up." The deep voice cracked like a whip.

Father Messen went completely silent, eyes wide and horrified, body violently trembling all over. But that soon stopped.

"Now the fun begins," he murmured, a wide smile crossing his face.

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