The Faith Healer
“And with this righteous hand, demons, I cast thee out!”
Reverend Pip Popoff pressed his hand down on the forehead of the elderly woman before pushing her back, causing her to briefly trip over herself. “My arthritis is gone.” She cried out, “it’s a miracle, everyone, God bless Mr. Popoff.”
The audience cheered, eagerly eating up the bullshit laid in front of them. I sighed, trapped in line along with the rest of the idiots. It was bad enough when my mother decided to raid my browser history, now I was being force to participate in the con of this lunatic in order to rid me of my “demons”. I didn’t care, just let the man do his stupid ritual and I can go home.
Popoff adjusted his microphone before heaving me onto the stage with a heavy grunt. He was an old man, wearing a tight tweedy suit and speaking with a fake southern accent. In his eyes were pupils of an almost solid blackness.
“I see this young fellow been doing the Devil’s handshake ain’t that right?” He yelled. The audience laughed. “Don’t worry, kid.” Popoff spoke, “the light will heal you. With this righteous hand, demons, I cast thee out!” The minute he placed his hand on my head, I could feel a great pain shoot through my body as if my flesh was being torn away.
It was like a dream, I was floating above the scene, having a clear view of Popoff and… myself. “Thank you, sir.” I hear my body say, “I feel absolutely reborn.” The crowd cheered.
I tried to yell out but couldn’t, helplessly trapped in the spectral void. My body turned towards me, its eyes now bearing the same darken pupils. It gave a sly wink before walking off stage and joining my mother.
