Page 53 of Virgil's Demons

Hellsing's body convulsed, and I felt a sick knot form in my gut as the demon's voice dropped to a whisper. "You want to know the truth about him, Virgil? His mother... a bible-thumping whore. She beat him, didn't she? Called him a sinner... and a bastard."

Hellsing began to cry, tears streaming down his face as the demon dug its claws deeper. "She called him filth, an abomination. But he loved her anyway. Like a dog loves its master."

"Shut up!" Hellsing screamed, thrashing against the chair, his voice breaking with pain. "Shut up!"

But the demon kept going, its voice turning crueler. "She beat him because he was weak, and you—you're the reason she's dead. He wishes he was dead too."

I stepped closer, my fists clenched tight. "What's your name?" I growled, my voice thick with fury. "Tell me your name, you son of a bitch!"

Hellsing's body stiffened, his back arching violently as the demon's laughter echoed through the room. "You want my name, Virgil? You want to know who I am?"

The boy screamed, his body jerking in the chair as if fighting to hold the demon back. And then, through clenched teeth, with tears pouring down his face, Hellsing screamed out the name.

"Belial!"

The name hit the room like a shockwave, and the demon roared, its hold on Hellsing tightening. I watched in horror, the name registered. According to the Bible, Belial was one of the crowned princes of Hell, he commanded over fifty legions of demons. He was a fucking angel. What the fuck washedoing here, and how the fuck did he get here.

"Virgil!" Spectre's voice snapped me out of my shock. It didn't matter how it had gotten here, we had it and it fucking knew it.

I could see the battle playing out in Hellsing's eyes, the boy's strength holding on, barely keeping the demon at bay.

"Spectre!" I shouted. "Now!"

Spectre moved quickly, throwing holy water on the boy's chest as I began the exorcism, chanting the words with all the force I could muster. "I cast you out, Belial! In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I bind you to the pit from which you came!"

The demon screeched, Hellsing's body convulsing as it fought to stay inside him. But I kept going, louder, stronger, my voice cutting through its vile taunts.

"You have no place here! I bind you by the power of the Holy Spirit, by the blood of Christ, by the light that burns in every soul you torment!"

The demon thrashed, trying to break free, its voice turning venomous. "You think you can save him? You think you can save anyone? You'll fail them all, Virgil. You're nothing but a failed piece of shit, a weakling playing hero."

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the lies, the filth it was spewing. I had one job in this fucking world, and it was to send this bastard back to hell. I shouted the final words of the exorcism, my voice rising above the demon's wails.

"In the name of Christ, begone!"

Spectre pressed the cross against Hellsing's forehead, the sharp wail of agony filled the room as the demon cursed us all. Hellsing's body

jerked one last time before going still, his head dropping to his chin, his chest heaving with heavy, ragged breaths. The demonic presence faded, the room growing eerily quiet, except for the sound of rain tapping against the window.

Hellsing's body slumped in the chair, his head lolled back, he was drenched in sweat and tears. His breathing was labored, the weight of what just happened crashing down on him. I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, but there was something else too—relief. The boy had held on, fought back the demon like a warrior in the trenches, and he was still standing.

Barely, but standing nonetheless.

I crouched down in front of him, gripping his shoulder firmly. "Hellsing, look at me."

His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, I wasn't sure if he even had the strength to speak. His lip quivered, and then his voice broke the silence, barely a whisper.

"Is it gone?"

I nodded, feeling the tension ease just a fraction. "Yeah, kid. It's gone."

He blinked, staring off into the distance as if trying to wrap his head around the nightmare he'd just lived through. His hands trembled against the armrests, knuckles white from gripping the chair for dear life.

"Did I do good? Did I help?"

"Yeah, you did it," I said, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I think you found your calling, kid."

Hellsing let out a shaky laugh, more of a sob really, as his head fell back against the chair. "I don't feel like much of a hero."

---