Harry The Beetle Gets Possessed By A Demon

*The following short story is a work of fiction. The characters, organisations, brands, and events portrayed are fictional. Any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. This material does not reflect the author's opinions. It may depict highly unsuitable topics and language for sensitive demographics and should not be read by minors.

After a full decade, I will finally set foot inside a church again. The fact is that I am an atheist, a heathen, a pagan if you may, and the very Antichrist would assure anyone after seeing my Google Search History. Yet, I will get married in a Catholic church.

Andrea and I entered our local church’s offices to pay for a marital ceremony—the event is seven months from now—when a dead hush brooded the space after the Father uttered. “You!” His eyes were so small that his pupils seemed to fill his orbs; he looked like a shark. We craned our necks and realised there was no one else behind us. “Harreeey!” I think I heard him say, even though I had never seen that elderly man in my life. “Come with me, both.”

It seriously felt like being inside a horror movie, like the cliché horror movie Andrea and I watched a while ago. What was its name? I forgot, but it starred the big-breasted blonde from Euphoria, and at this moment, we were her. Except that not even with my gynecomastia and Andrea’s B cups had enough fat tissue to make up for a single boob of that actress! Those were gigantic! See? This is why I am the Antichrist. This was my train of thought as we meekly followed the upset priest down the crimson runner towards the altar. The place was completely empty, fortunately, because what follows this story would have made anyone in there scream from the top of their lungs. The organ clicked its keys by itself, and the song was Sweet Dreams by Marilyn Manson. I know, it was cheesier than an A24 film.

“AHHHGGHGHGHFG!” My fiancée screamed gutturally, startling me. I hugged her, but she kept pushing me apart. A little altar boy came in and embraced her assuringly.

“What’s wrong, Andrea?” I asked her. She pointed at my head. I touched my forehead and felt two elephant tusks sprouting from my skull. I am not going to lie, I panicked, but when I stared down at my horse-like legs I felt relieved since that explained my nervous walking. I was swiftly encircled by a group of nuns and altar boys. I heard them say, “flaccidum fallus, magna ubera!” They sang on repeat until my vision became absolute blackness.

I woke up, sprawling on the bed I share with Andrea. I bet it was midnight because the neighbourhood was silent. It was so cold that smoke came out of my mouth. I longed to speak to the couple of men who stood by the door with their backs facing me, but it was impossible. I felt like I was tremendously drunk; I was just the spectator of my body and could not restrain my movements. They heard me trying to break loose from their bondage. They flung inside along with Andrea.

“Why am I roped? Buggers!” I yelled with a voice unlike mine. I doubted that I was myself anymore, my body had changed to that of a stereotypical devil. Except I still had my monstrous cock the width of a Coca-Cola.

“Surrender, son of Satan!” Called the Father, holding onto a bible.

“Leave this body alone!” The priest commanded. Andrea was just a frightened spectator.

“Go away, you deviiiiiiiiil!” The Father sprinkled me with holy water, it burned my skin.

“Be careful with my eyes, daddy! I am more of a swallower!”

“Silence!” The Father exclaimed. But I jerked my head up, and at the same time the window broke. Razor-sharp shards of crystal flew like arrows and scarred them, as if a supernatural force tailed my movements. Andrea shed tears uncontrollably—she looks adorable when she cries. I wanted to hug her so badly.

“Let the neighbours watch my ejaculation!” It was unbelievable what came out of my mouth. I had no control over it. Andrea could not believe I was being exorcised, she did not want to acknowledge that her future husband was the very Antichrist.

“Shut up! Leave this body, Satan! Jesus loves us all! Jesus loves us all!”

“Even the terrorists?” My creepy voice asked. I have to admit, it was a pretty funny response.

“Silence! You will never pervert our minds! Sinner!” The priest slapped me.

“Now pinch my nipples, cowboy!” I twisted my tongue hungrily.

The priest pinched both my nipples.

“Charles!” The Father said. “Don’t startle him for God’s sake!”

“Apologies, Father Raymond.”

“Harry! Andrea interrupted the gay impulses of the priest. “I need you to come home.” The wind suddenly became angrier, the demons knew she was my biggest weakness.

“Shut up, bitch!” I replied. It was all fun and laughs until then, because demon or not, later I was going to be in deep trouble for having called her the B word. Oh, boy.

“I am not talking to you, crass demon!” She continued. “I want to speak to my Harry, the sweet boy who would never insult me. I need you, my little cactus. Don’t be afraid. I know you are in there. This is just a shield for your emotions. If you don’t want to get married in the church, you just have to tell me. I know that you are very afraid of disappointing me. I just want you to know that I will not be disappointed if you don’t want to get married in the church.” She crooned hopelessly and placed a hand over mine, I glanced at her gleaming face. She looked beautiful behind the car’s wheel, the sun made her black hair look chestnut.

“Getting married in a church? You know that I am an atheist.” I responded.

“You don’t have to mean it. But my family and I are very religious.” She lamented.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes, since I was a girl.”

“Is this really, really, really what you want?”

She smiled. “Yes,”

“Andrea”, I sighed, “is there something I wouldn’t do for you?” She blushed cutely. More than my personal beliefs, I brooded over the fact that sometimes I feel afraid of disappointing her. She is just so special, and I am so weird. I am a hundred per cent sure that I will ruin our honeymoon, I don’t know how, but I will find a way, because that’s the way I am. For some reason, I just ruin every good thing that ever happens to me. I stared at her eyes sternly—they are so mesmerising. My whole life has been about fighting these intrusive thoughts, but most of the time, they take the best part of me. But with Andrea it is different. She gives me the strength to fight. She makes me feel like I do have something to lose, something to protect. I feel strong when I am with her. I feel in control. My demons are very strong and clever, they are constantly finding new ways to make me feel anxious. But her eyes remind me of the best thing in life, having something to lose. I held her hand and drew it to my mouth to kiss it softly, making sure that my demons became the spectators. Watch me not giving a fuck! Fuck you all. I am not going to die!