Simon dashed into the Lyons' house, ignoring Mr. and Mrs. Lyon who were startled by his intrusion.
"Good morning!" He said, running up to Jessica's room.
He paused just before grabbing her doorknob. He didn't want to risk seeing a naked Jessica.
Knock. Knock.
"Come in," a frail voice called in. Gently, he opened the door. Stepping in slow and quietly.
"Hey, Jess, my mum got a call from your mum. She said you weren't feeling very well," he said with a low voice, squinting his eyes. She just chuckled. She didn't look sick at all. Jessica was never one to be sick, more reason why this sudden news made him anxious.
"I'm fine, Simon. I don't want you worrying about me," she responded with a smile. That was not enough for Simon, even though she looked perfectly fine.
"Here, sit," she gestured for the bed. "I'll be joining you to church," she continued, dropping her phone on the nightstand beside her. She winked at Simon as she walked into the bathroom, which made him fluster red for a second.
"I wasn't going to go. You never get sick and once you are, it's disastrous. I don't believe you're 'okay.' Are you sure, Jess?" he said as he sat on the bed.
"Simon, Father Nicholas might be leaving town today. Remember..." she chirped as she walked back to him. "...he said today would be the day he decides whether to leave or stay. And wouldn't you like to know what he decides? He's been your mentor for so long and you'd just miss his big day because Jessica WAS sick?"
Simon had known Father Nicholas all his life. As the son of two paranormal researchers, Steve Marlowe, a non-ordained theologian and exorcist, believes that faith and fear are two sides of the same coin, and Jeanette Marlowe, his wife, the team's archivist, they answered directly to the Church. He was raised in same path and rites. Nicholas was more than a mentor; he was family.
But right now? Jessica mattered more than any of them. He opened his mouth but didn't know what to say.
"We'll go to church," Jessica concluded, shutting the bathroom door.
Simon fell back on the bed shutting his eyes for some Z's while Jessica takes her princess power bath.
She shook him, "Wake up Simon."
Simon groaned, stretching as he got up, "Already done, Princess?" His eyes widened in admiration of how stunning she looked.
Jessica stood by the bed, hazel hair tumbling past her shoulder. Her emerald eyes flicked toward him, sharp and endearing. Freckles dusting her cheeks like sun-kissed constellations. She wore a loose floral blouse and pants that hugged her hips just right. Not quite his height, not close but she still looked like she could knock him out.
"Damn, you look... gorgeous," he muttered. Her cheeks blushed red. His compliments always had a way of making her blush even when she tried not to.
"Thank you," she giggled under her breath.
They made their way for the stairs. Mrs. Lyon stood by resting her back on the rail of the stairs waiting for the chatty youths to come down.
"No, no, little miss, you won't be going nowhere today," she spat, crossing her arms on seeing Jessica.
Jessica paused in her steps. Simon quickly went down forcing a smile when he approached Mrs. Lyon downstairs.
She continued walking down the stairs, with puppy eyes, "Mum, it's Father Nicholas and also, I'm fine. I'm sure about it," she coaxed.
"I know it's Father Nicholas's transfer day, but little miss, you were burning up this morning. You scared me. That kind of fever doesn't just disappear. I suggest bed rest," the nurse in her spoke. Mrs. Lyon was a nurse at the Willow Creek clinic and she never skipped an opportunity to be a nurse at home too.
"Is it mum or the nurse?" Mr. Lyon teased. Grabbing his wife by the waist, locking eyes with her and gently planting a kiss on her neck.
"She said she's alright, and I don't think it's a bad idea. Also, she'll be with Simon," his eyes flicked to Simon, now rustling his silver hair.
Jessica gently crept to stand beside Simon who had nothing to say, just a weird smile and nods.
"Are you sure?" Her mother asked, visibly concerned as she placed her hand on Jessica's forehead.
"Yes, mum," Jessica cuts immediately as she planted a kiss on her mum's cheeks, then her father's. "Bye mum. Bye dad. Love you!" She hurriedly grabbed Simon and dashed out of the house.
Simon was side-by-side with her, watching the wind play with her hazel hair while they biked, before retracting his gaze to capture her beautiful emerald eyes.
"My mum likes to make a big deal out of little stuff," she spoke abruptly.
"I am worried, too, but—"
"Ugh, you too? Gosh, I'm fine. How else do I prove that I am?" She grunted, increasing her pedaling.
"Jessica, you'd not blame me for being human. It's only natural. But yeah, since you said you are. I'll take your word for it," he added in a persuasive manner.
"Ever witnessed an exorcism, or performed one?" She shifted the conversation immediately, asking with a sly smile.
"No I haven't," he replied. "But I overheard my mum and dad talking about one that might be happening here in Willow Creek. I might ask to come along."
"Willow Creek?" She questioned.
"Yes, I was spooked too. It's a secret. It has never happened in ages. And possessions are really rare, but somehow the first in decades is here in Willow Creek," worry painted his face.
"You're just scared." She let out a sarcastic laugh and sped off
This made Simon scoff, "It's just—"
Simon paused immediately, something didn't feel right. Not that about the conversation. No, it was the atmosphere.
"I think you should stop the race, Jess," he called out, but she just laughed and pedaled faster.
He tried to keep up, but couldn't just shake off the eerie feeling of the environment. The race, the atmosphere, it just felt off. No, now it felt stronger. It was danger. Lurking around... waiting for the perfect time to strike. And Jessica? She wasn't listening.
In a blink of an eye, it came, Simon was able to swerve out of the way, but the impact sent him flying. He looked ahead and Jessica hadn't noticed. A massive truck loaded with timber had narrowly missed hitting him and headed for Jessica. And such speed was not normal for a truck.
The truck plowed into Jessica with a bone-shattering thud, her ribs cracking like brittle twigs. Her blood exploded in a gush, painting the asphalt in slick, steaming red. She flew upward, body twisting grotesquely, like a limp puppet torn from its strings.