Teaser - Azazel

Copyright © Renee Rocco 2019 - Unedited sample of Azazel: Chosen, Book One

Galveston Psychiatric Facility: 2019

Steady rain pelted the window, breaking the silence. The restless beat echoed in Anna Evans’s already noisy mind. If she could, she’d carve the sound out of her head, but they didn’t allow her sharps. Nor was there wasn’t anything usable in her starkly furnished room. Only furniture was a nightstand beside the rumpled bed. Both were screwed into the floor. A tiny square window in the locked, metal door afforded her a limited view of the hospital’s hallway. No one but here but her and the guard who occasionally patrolled this desolate wing of the hospital.

Crouched in the corner and aged beyond her forty-nine years, she swatted tangled gray hair away from crazed, blue eyes. She tilted her head one way, then the other, listening to something only she heard as she struggled to focus on someone only she saw.

With a broken gasp, Anna leapt to her feet and dashed across the room. She placed her clammy palm against the cool glass, watching the rain drops river down the window. Just as suddenly, she drew back her hand and swiped at her head, as if shooing away a fly.

“Leave me alone.” She slapped her hands over her ears. “Go away. Go away. Go away…”

Tears drenched flushed checks as she raced back to the corner of the room. A maniacal laugh erupted from between dry, cracked lips. “I won’t tell. You can’t make me. No, you can’t.”

She pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead as if to ease the pressure and quiet the voice screaming in her mind.

“Stop. Oh, God. Please. Please. Make him stop.”

But the voice didn’t stop. The persistent baritone echoed inside her head day and night, a relentless demand that wouldn’t be ignored. 

She crawled toward the bed. Groped her way up the until she was positioned on her knees. With her upper body sprawled atop the mattress, she clasped her hands together until her knuckles turned white.

Anna squeezed her eyes shut. “Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name—”

The invisible force flung her across the room. She tumbled along the floor, the prayer dying on her tongue. Dazed, she scrambled to her feet but was pushed backward as she struggled to find her footing. She slammed into the wall, her arms and legs are pinned by her unseen tormentor.

Again, she closed her eyes.

“Don’t say it,” she hissed with a violent shake of her head. “Don’t think it.”

But she couldn’t stop the thought. A name whispered across her mind. 

She opened her eyes as a wail clawed its way up from the depths of her soul. The anguished cry dragged on, ending on a ragged gasp when she was released. She slid down the wall, landing in a heap on the white titled floor.

“Oh, God, he knows.”

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