The Exorcism of Faeries (Morbid Realities, #1)

by J.L. Vampa

She was one of those peculiar students who felt the thrill of academia every year, all year long. The last six years without hallowed academic halls and papers to write and books to study, she’d felt adrift. That didn’t mean she hadn’t still written papers, and conducted her own research, and read countless books, but it was different to be surrounded by a place, by a people group dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge,

“There’s a little phrase wise women live by. If he wants to, he will. It’s usually more romantic than our particular scenario, but the point still stands. If you wanted to murder me, you would. Now, come on.”

“It’s 4:56 in the morning and climbing a tree is not that fucking hard. Now get up.”

“If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I’m the one who will make you wish you were dead. That’s who the fuck I am.”

Poetry wasn’t in life; it was in what we’ve made of the past, lending it romanticism instead of watching it burn and lie in the ashes. He shouldn’t have brought her into this, this girl made up of poetry and bones, flowers and viscera, everything beautiful and meaningful in life.

My saviour, my gloomy little cloud. I’ll be your sunshine if you’ll be my rain.”

Soon, she was fast asleep, dreaming of faeries and mythical lands of woods and flora, jagged teeth and rotting bones.

“How I thought I was destined to be alone, but it turns out I was starving all these years, waiting for you?”

“Or”—he brushed her hair away from her neck and kissed her collarbone—“how many nights I’ve thought of you while alone in my room?” Breathing was becoming quite difficult. “Are you still jealous, a stór?” “Only of the walls of your room,” she breathed out.

But then he began a rhythm that felt so familiar it was as if they’d done this countless times. Loved each other countless times in countless other lives, other realities.

“The most incredible and inexplicable things in life can’t be seen,

“I’m at your command, darling.”

No woman had ever made him feel so alive. So desperate for her. So madly in love. He knew the moment he’d fallen. It was standing there in The Old Library, holding a book in his hand as she told him she’d watched him years ago, stand the same way in the same library. When she’d laughed and said it was annoying, when he had that first laugh, he knew then and there he'd set the world on fire for her. Slay a thousand beasts, cure any Plague, fight to the death. For her. His Patroclus.

I want to drown in this love, darling,