William Blatty - The Exorcist

Karras opened up his eyes and saw the Dennings personality.

"There, that's better. Look, she killed me. Not our innkeeper, Karras---she! Oh, yes, indeed!" It was nodding affirmation. "She! I was minding my business at the bar, you see, when I thought I heard her moaning. Upstairs. Well, now, I had to see what ailed her, after all, so up I went and don't you know, she bloody took me by the throat, the little cunt!" The voice was whiny now; pathetic. "Christ, I've never in my life seen such strength! Began to scream that I was diddling her mother or something, or that I caused the divorce. Some such thing. It wasn't dear. But I tell you, love, she pushed me out the bloody fucking window!" Voice cracking. High-pitched now. "She killed me! Fucking killed me! Now you think it's bloody fair to throw me out? Come along, now, Karras, answer me! You think it really fair? I mean, do you?"

Karras swallowed.

"Yes, or no," it prodded "Is it fair?"

"How was... the head turned around?" asked Karras hoarsely.

Dennings shifted his gaze around evasively. "Oh, well, that was an accident... a freak... I hit the steps, you know.... It was freaky."

Karras pondered, a dryness in his throat. Then he picked up Regan's wrist again; And glanced at his watch in a move of dismissal.

"Dimmy, Please! Don' make me be alone!"

His mother.

"If instead of be priest, you was doctor, I Live in nice house, Dimmy, not wit' da cockroach, not all by myself in da apartment! Then..."

He was straining to block it all out, but the voice began to weep again.

"Dimmy, please!"

"You're not my---"

"Won't you face the truth, stinking scum?" It was the demon. "You believe what Merrin tells you?" It seethed. "You believe him to be holy and good? Well, he is not! He is proud and unworthy! I will prove it to you, Karras I will prove it by killing the piglet!"

Karras opened up his eyes. But still dared not look.

"Yes, she will die and Merrin's God will not save her, Karras! You will not save her! She will die from Merrin's pride and your incompetence! Bungler! You should not have given her the Librium!"

Karras turned now and looked at the eyes. They were shining with triumph and piercing spite.

"Feel her pulse!" The demon grinned "Go ahead, Karras! Feel it!"

Regan's wrist was still gripped in his hand, and now he frowned worriedly. The pulse beat was rapid and...

"Feeble?" croaked the demon. "Ah, yes. A trifle. For the moment, just a bit."

Karras fetched his medical bag and took out his stethoscope. The demon rasped, "Listen, Karras! Listen well!"

Karras listened. The heart tones sounded distant and inefficient.

"I will not let her sleep!"

Karras flicked up his glance to the demon. Felt chilled.

"Yes, Karras!" it croaked. "She will not sleep! Do you hear? I will not let the piglet sleep!"

As Karras stared numbly, the demon put its head back in gloating laughter. He did not hear Merrin come back into the room.

The exorcist stood by him at the side of the bed and studied his face. "What is it?" he asked.

Karras answered dully, "The demon... said he wouldn't let her sleep." He turned haunted eyes on Merrin. "Her heart's begun to work inefficiently, Father. If she doesn't get rest pretty soon, she'll die of cardiac exhaustion."

Merrin looked grave. "Can you give her drugs? Some medicine to make her sleep?"

Karras shook his head. "No, that's dangerous. She might go into coma." He turned as Regan clucked like a hen. "If her blood pressure drops any more..." He trailed off.

"What can be done?" Merrin asked.

"Nothing... nothing..." Karras answered. "But I don't know---maybe new advances---" He said abruptly to Merrin, "I'm going to call in a cardiac specialist, Father."

Merrin nodded.

Karras went downstairs. He found Chris keeping vigil in the kitchen and from the room off the Pantry he heard Willie sobbing, heard the sound of Karras consoling voice. He explained the need for consultation, carefully not divulging the full extent of Regan's danger. Chris gave him permission, and Karras telephoned a friend, a noted specialist at the Georgetown University Medical School, awakening him and briefing him tersely.

"Be right there," said the specialist.

He was at the house in less than half an hour. In the bedroom he reacted with bewilderment to the cold and the stench and with horror and compassion to Regan's condition. She was now croaking gibberish. While the specialist examined her, she alternately sang and made animal noises. Then Dennings appeared.

"Oh, it's terrible,"' it whined at the specialist. "Just awful! Oh, I do hope there's something you can do! Is there something? We'll have no place to go, you see, otherwise, and all because... Oh, damn the stubborn devil!" As the specialist stared oddly while taking Regan's blood pressure, Dennings looked to Karras and complained, "What the hell are you doing! Can't you see the little bitch should be in hospital? She belongs in a madhouse, Karras! Now you know that! Really! Now let's stop all this cunting mumbo-jumbo! If she dies, you know, it's your fault! All yours! I mean, just because he's stubborn doesn't mean you should behave like a snot! You're a doctor! You should know better, Karras! Now come along; there's just a terrible shortage of housing these days. If we're---"

Back came the demon now, howling like a wolf. The specialist, expressionless, undid the sphygmomanometer wrapping. Then he nodded at Karras. He was finished.

They went out into the hall, where the specialist looked back at the bedroom door for a moment, and then turned to Karras. "What the hell's going on in there, Father?"

The Jesuit averted his face. "I can't say," he said softly.

"Okay."

"What's the story?"

The specialist's manner was somber. "She's got to stop that activity... sleep... go to sleep before the blood pressure drops...."

"Is there anything I can do, Bill?"

The specialist looked directly at Karras and said, "Pray."

He said good night and walked away. Karras watched him, every artery and nerve begging rest, begging hope, begging miracles though he knew none could be. "... You should not have given her the Librium!"

He turned back to the room and pushed open the door with a hand that was heavy as his soul.

Merrin stood by the bedside, watching while Regan neighed shrilly like a horse. He heard Karras enter -and looked at him inquiringly. Karras shook his head. Merrin nodded. There was sadness in his face; then acceptance; and as he turned back to Regan, there was grim resolve.

Merrin knelt by the bed. "Our Father..." he began.

Regan splattered him with dark and stinking bile, and then croaked, "You will lose! She will die! She will die!"

Karras picked up his copy of the Ritual. Opened it. Looked up and stared at Regan.

" 'Save your servant,' " prayed Merrin.

" 'In the face of the enemy.' "

In Karras' heart there was a desperate torment. Go to sleep! Go to sleep! roared his will in a frenzy.

But Regan did not sleep.

Not by dawn.

Not by noon.

Not by nightfall.

Not by Sunday, when the pulse rate was one hundred and forty, and ever threadier, while the fits continued unremittingly, while Karras and Merrin kept repeating the ritual, never sleeping, Karras feverishly groping for remedies: a restraining sheet to hold Regan's movements to a minimum; keeping everyone out of the bedroom for a time to see if lack of provocation might terminate the fits. It did not. And Regan's shouting was as draining as her movements. Yet the blood pressure held. But how much longer? Karras agonized. Ah, God, don't let her die! he cried repeatedly to himself. Don't let her die! Let her sleep! Let her sleep! Never was he conscious that his thoughts were prayers; only that the prayers were never answered.