Gloomy was the day Miss Sarah Evans was lowered into the ground. It seemed unbelievable that someone as good and young as Sarah could go so quick, so sudden. No one expected such a thing to occur in their village.
The coroners heaved the casket into the ground, huffing as their ropes slowly lowered her down. Women ululated and threw themselves to their knees in tears as their husbands bowed their heads.  The light rain and fog bothered them not, for they still wept. My companion, almost shoulder to shoulder with me, clicked his tongue. He turned and walked away. I reluctantly followed him.
“‘Twas a demon, no doubt,” He huffed out, checking his pocket watch. The short, fleshy man let out a small tsk and looked up at me with his black, beady eyes.
“How do you know for certain? You saw the body- there are no signs of a possession, or-”
“Gobemouche!” He exclaimed in disappointment as he neared the exit to the cemetery. I frowned, but replied with nothing for I knew he had more to say, “You are just my apprentice, what do you know? Tch! Foolishness is all I hear from you!”
I kept quiet as he headed back to the church, grumbling under his puffy breaths.
I would not consider myself an apprentice to Rodney Abbott. He was an old man past his prime, though he had not realized it himself. Ten years ago, he took me under his wing. He was the one who helped me become what I always dreamed to be: an exorcist. He gave me everything I needed and showed me how to exorcise any demonic behemoth that could enter this realm from Gehenna. I owed him everything, but that didn’t mean I wished to be below him all my life. I yearned for the day to set upon us where I will be able to finally show that codger that I was beyond what he could teach.
As soon as the softest of sighs left my lips, he turned to glare again and shook his head, “You’ll see. Tonight. When not one is around... we are coming back.”

We stalked through the graveyard silently. The moon hung over our heads and shone a dim path to our destination. All was silent besides the huffy, shallow breaths of Rodney, and the occasional wind knocking against the tree leaves. The chilling night sent shivers down our spines, but we mushed onwards. Grave markers that stood in position were barely visible in the darkness but we dodged them carefully, lest we wake any unwelcoming soul. The world was dark, but we still crept closer until we were before the grave of Miss Sarah Evans. Rodney struck the ground with a shovel, a sharp noise being emitted as the dirt settled.
“Get to work.” He stalked off to examine the area. I let out a few angrily mumbled words and ripped the shovel from the ground, continuing the tedious work alone. There were so many other places to patrol tonight, yet here was I, going on the whim of Rodney Abbott. I shook my head as I hoisted a shovelful of the soil out of the grave. Subterranean creatures wriggled in the dark as their homes were uncovered. They squirmed to escape back into the safely compacted earth.
Rodney came back a few minutes later and wiped his reddened face with his kerchief. “Quit foolin’ around, boy! We haven’t got the time, it’s almost the witching hour!”
I didn’t reply. The old man let out another puff and set his bag on the ground. He knelt down besides the brown leathered satchel and scrambled through it with his sweaty, grubby hands. I watched out of the corner of my disdainful eyes all the while I continued to empty the grave as he searched.
“Ah!” He exclaimed and held up a small bible in one hand. He stood back up and dusted the dirt from his trousers. I stabbed into the ground again, I hit the coffin. Relieved, I dropped down and started scooping up the rest of the soil. Rodney struck a match and lit the lantern, our only light source besides the glowing moon. His luster glossed eyes looked into mine, “Get that casket open quickly. The hour is nearly upon us.”
I turned away and gripped the handles. I lifted them up quickly. There Miss Sarah Evans laid, her swarthy appearance contrasted greatly with her light blue gown. The desiccated corpse stared at me with its soulless, empty eyes. I climbed out of the grave, and dug into my pocket until I found my bottle of holy water. I sprinkled some on the corpse, and the drops sizzled and  the skin it touched.
“Told you, boy,” Rodney mumbled, then opened the bible. “Crux sacra sit mihi lux! Nunquam-”
Before he could finish the next verse, an eldritch scream was heard from in the coffin. Miss Sarah- no, the thing in her body let out soul ripping screams and it jerked about in a painful manner. I almost lost my footing at the side of the hole. The antediluvian creature clawed out at us, nearly getting my boot. I doused her again with holy water, her face began to melt until I could see her bones. I felt sick. As I watched the flesh burn and peel off chunks of her cheeks. Plump, slimy maggots fell from her cheek and others struggled to worm their way in deeper.
“- draco sit mihi dux. Va-” Rodney fell silent with the thing’s howls in agony. His eyes stared down at the thing, which had sat up now and cracked its neck. Everything was still and quiet. Rodney slowly lifted his bible back up, and shakily tried to squeeze the next words out, but before he could, the thing was upon him. As it sprung from the coffin, I could see long, black claws grow from its nails as it crashed into Rodney. The bible flew several feet away. I watched in terror as the creature hissed at my fellow exorcist and began to claw at him. He howled in pain as the creature’s talons ripped into his chest.
“Help me! Help! Bring me the book!” He pleaded as he struggled against the creature. It was all in vain. It was relentless. It wasn’t going to stop. I closed my eyes and ran to the bible. Fear gripped my heart. The thing paid me no mind, even when I fell to the ground with the bible cradled in my hands. Rodney’s screams were endless now. Blood coated his face, and his crushed arm was in one of the creature's bony hands. As it bit down on his arm, a sickening crack sounded through the cemetery followed by more shouts of agony.
I clutched the bible and stared helplessly. I was prepared to run for it, to go straight to the being that was tearing apart my comrade. Then a thought crossed my mind, the pained cries became deaf to my ears. This was my chance. For five years now, I’d been waiting for a chance to show Rodney that I was more than he thought I was. And here the opportunity was.
As bravely as I could, I stumbled to my feet and opened the book, “Crux sacr-”
“Foolish boy! St-AHH!” Rodney bellowed as the thing started digging into his stomach, chunks of unknown meat spilling from him. Rodney’s screams were frequent, but then the noises died. All that could be heard was the sound of the creature as it feasted. It remained unaffected by the verses. I couldn’t breathe another word. Rodney was dead. I had the time to save him. If only I just gave him the stupid book then he would still be here. He would have stood up slowly, pained. A crooked smile would dance onto his lips and he would have mumbled a soft, “Wipe that look off your face. We have got more work to do.”
With a satisfied growl, the thing backed off. Its bony, bloodied face glanced to me, one eye already popped from its socket. It let out a ear piercing screech, then bounded away into the darkness. I fell to my knees and dropped the bible. I did not know if I should scream, vomit, or run.
I lifted my head and stared at the fresh body, the graves, the shadows. Only then did it dawn upon me why the verses were fruitless. The hour has come. A twig snapped to my right. I jolted up, and my head snapped toward the sound. Amorphous figures stalked in the dark, their eyes trained to me. My heartbeat picked up. I felt dizzy and sick. I knew I was going to die. Rodney never taught me what to do if a situation such as this ever arose. He did not think he would ever need to. He was always here. And now, here I stood, alone and desperate, while hungry behemoths stalked closer.
The witching hour had only just begun.