Meridith’s Saturday night exorcism
Date: 2025-08-02 22:32
(Meridith’s Saturday night exorcism)
[Sat Aug 2 2025]
In a large house
It is about 65F(18C) degrees. The mist is heaviest At Hawthorn and Franklin/span>/spanThe front door of the Victorian house stands slightly ajar, warm air spilling out into the humid August night despite the late hour. Meridith can hear the rhythmic of metal on metal echoing from somewhere deep within the building, accompanied by the steady hum of heating pipes that should be silent in summer. Through the gap in the doorway, brass fixtures gleam unnaturally bright in the darkness, and the air carries that sharp metallic scent mixed with something else – like heated copper and ozone.
A work truck sits in the driveway, “Redstone Pipe & Heating” painted on the side, tools scattered across the tailgate as if someone abandoned their work mid-task. The house’s windows glow with a faint amber light that seems to pulse in rhythm with the tapping sounds. From the basement comes the occasional clang of heavy pipes being moved, followed by what might be humming – or whispering.
Mrs. Holloway, the homeowner who called for help, wrings her hands on the front porch. “He’s been down there for three days,” she says, voice tight with worry. “Thomas – the pipe-fitter. He won’t come up, won’t eat. Just keeps working and… talking to himself. The whole house is burning hot even with no heat on, and I swear I can hear voices in the walls.“
Meridith steps into the home with confident, a hand resting on her sword as she sets upon the mystery. She lets out a little exhale, then a sigh. She turns back to Mrs. Holloway. “Yeah, that’s a demon. I’m on it ma’am.” She steps further inside and makes for the basement.
Meridith’s boots echo against the polished hardwood as she moves through the sweltering house. The ornate moldings seem to writhe in her peripheral vision, and the brass fixtures pulse with that strange amber glow. Behind her, Mrs. Holloway gasps at the casual mention of a demon but doesn’t follow.
The basement door stands open at the end of a narrow hallway, revealing wooden steps descending into flickering light. The metallic tapping grows louder as Meridith approaches, now clearly the sound of precise hammer strikes against brass. Heat radiates up from below like an open furnace, and the whispers become more distinct – not quite words, but rhythmic patterns that match the hammering.
Halfway down the stairs, Meridith can see into the basement proper. A man in work clothes kneels beside an elaborate network of brass pipes that definitely wasn’t part of the original heating system. His movements are unnaturally fluid as he shapes glowing metal with his bare hands, seemingly unaffected by the intense heat. Sweat doesn’t bead on his skin – instead, thin veins of molten brass pulse beneath the surface like a second circulatory system.
Thomas looks up at the sound of footsteps, his eyes reflecting the amber light. “Ah, a visitor,” he says with mechanical precision. “Perfect timing. I’m just calibrating the thermal resonance frequencies. The network will be complete soon.“
Meridith steps down, into the basement, and lets out a sharp whistle. “Thomas. My man. You did a silly thing. You let a demon in. Now we gotta deal with that.” She peers at the walls and growls, unnatural changes. She turns to Thomas. “Now, get out of him, Vex’thara, or I’ll have to get nasty.”
Thomas tilts his head at an unnatural angle, the brass veins beneath his skin pulsing brighter. A sound escapes his throat – not quite laughter, but the rhythmic hiss of steam through pipes. “Vex’thara?” His voice carries harmonics now, as if multiple tones resonate through his vocal cords. “You mistake me for some common chaos-bringer.“
He sets down his tools with mechanical precision and rises to his feet, movements too smooth for human joints. “I am Vorthak, forge-born and purpose-built. This vessel called me Thomas, but I am reshaping him into something far more… efficient.” The basement air shimmers with heat as he speaks, and the brass pipes along the walls begin to sing – a low, haunting tone that vibrates through the floorboards above.
“Your blade is impressive, but crude. Observe true craftsmanship.” Thomas extends his hand toward a section of pipe, and the metal begins to flow like liquid, reshaping itself into intricate patterns. The temperature in the room climbs another degree. “In seventy-two hours, I will have perfected this anchor point. Then every home in Redstone will sing my song when winter comes.“
His eyes fix on Meridith, pupils reflecting like molten copper. “You may leave now, or stay and witness artistry beyond mortal comprehension.“
Meridith shakes her head. “Fine I suppose I was wrong. That’s, promising at least.” She studies him up, then down, and walks over towards him. “This Vessel is being broken down by your presence. You have great works to do, and he is but a man. I am a God. Let us work something out between us.”
Vorthak’s possessed form goes perfectly still, the rhythmic tapping ceasing for the first time in three days. The brass veins beneath Thomas’s skin dim slightly as the demon’s attention focuses entirely on Meridith. The basement pipes stop their singing, creating an eerie silence broken only by the distant hum of the heating system above.
“A god.” The words emerge with careful consideration, each syllable measured like precision tooling. Thomas’s head tilts again, but this time the movement seems more calculating than unnatural. “Your confidence suggests either divinity or madness. Both have their… uses.“
The possessed man takes a step closer, and Meridith can feel the heat radiating from his body like standing near a forge. His eyes narrow, studying her with an intensity that feels like being appraised by an expert craftsman examining raw materials. “If you speak truth, then perhaps this vessel is indeed… insufficient for one of my capabilities.“
The brass pipes along the walls begin to glow faintly, responding to Vorthak’s heightened interest. “What manner of arrangement do you propose, supposed deity? And what proof do you offer of your claimed nature?” His voice carries a note of genuine curiosity beneath the mechanical precision, like an artisan encountering an unfamiliar but potentially valuable tool.
Meridith says “She was close with all the wolves and they left“
Meridith says, bratty, “You’re annoying“
Meridith shakes her head. “Not a proper god, a demi-god. A supernatural being,” she explains. “This man won’t work much longer. Leave his body and let him rest, and I will let you guide me, for one day, in exchange. You will use my body to do your works.”
“Please… it burns…” before Vorthak reasserts control.
The demon forces Thomas to straighten, but the effort is visible now. “However, your proposal lacks… specificity. One day to accomplish what, precisely? And how do I know you won’t simply banish me once I release this anchor point?”
The brass network along the walls flickers between bright and dim, reflecting Vorthak’s internal conflict. “This vessel deteriorates, yes, but it has served adequately for establishing my connection to Redstone’s infrastructure. Why should I abandon certain progress for uncertain partnership?“
Thomas’s knees buckle slightly before he catches himself against a pipe, which immediately begins to glow white-hot under his touch. The scent of burning fills the air.
Meridith growls low. “Because, the alternative, is that I break your works here and now. Demon or not, I can overpower your vessel and cast you out. So, you either release him, and get a day, or we do battle and you get -nothing-
The basement falls silent except for Thomas’s labored breathing. Vorthak’s possessed form trembles, the brass veins beneath his skin flickering rapidly between bright and dim. The demon’s grip on its host wavers visibly – Thomas’s natural posture reasserts itself for moments before snapping back to unnatural rigidity.
“You… threaten my work.” The voice carries both Vorthak’s mechanical precision and Thomas’s human strain. “Seventy-two hours of perfect calibration…” The possessed man’s hands clench into fists, and several pipes along the walls crack from sudden temperature changes.
A long pause stretches as the demon weighs its options. The brass network dims further, and Thomas staggers, catching himself against a workbench. When he speaks again, the harmonics in his voice have reduced. “Your terms are… acceptable. But I require assurance. Swear by whatever power grants your supernatural nature that you will honor one full day of cooperation.“
The heat in the basement begins to dissipate slightly, though the modified pipe network still glows with residual energy. Thomas’s eyes flicker between molten copper and their natural brown. “Swear it, and I will release this failing vessel. But know that I will remember this bargain, demi-god.“
Meridith tilts her head. “I swear, if you release that man, and take control of me, you will be granted a full 24 hours before you will depart from me.” She tilts her head. “Now, if you do serious harm to that man, the deal is off.”
Vorthak’s form goes rigid as the binding takes hold. The brass veins beneath Thomas’s skin pulse once, twice, then begin to fade rapidly. “Sworn and witnessed,” the demon intones with finality. “The compact is sealed.“
Thomas suddenly gasps and collapses to his knees, his natural color returning as the molten brass retreats from his veins. He looks around the basement in confusion, taking in the modified pipe network with growing horror. “What… what did I do? How long have I been…” His voice is purely human now, hoarse from days of supernatural use.
The air between Thomas and Meridith begins to shimmer with heat distortion. A presence – ancient, methodical, and intensely focused – presses against the edges of Meridith’s consciousness like molten metal seeking a mold. The basement pipes sing one final, resonant note before falling silent.
“The vessel is released,” Vorthak’s voice echoes from nowhere and everywhere. “Now, demi-god, fulfill your oath. Accept me, and let us begin our day of true craftsmanship.“
Thomas struggles to stand, still weak but clearly himself again. He stares at Meridith with dawning understanding. “You’re… you’re going to let it into you? After what it did to me?“
Meridith grins and shifts forward, seizing someone and pulling him protectively to her. “No, of course not. Like I said, quite clearly. He also has to take control of me. No control, no deal. So, formless Demon, shall we see who is better anchored now?” She ensures that Vorthak cannot simply return into Thomas.
Meridith grins and shifts forward, seizing Thomas and pulling him protectively to her. “No, of course not. Like I said, quite clearly. He also has to take control of me. No control, no deal. So, formless Demon, shall we see who is better anchored now?” She ensures that Vorthak cannot simply return into Thomas.
Meridith says “I encountered a new demon, Vorthak“
The shimmering presence recoils as if struck, the heat distortion in the air writhing with sudden fury. Vorthak’s voice erupts from the pipes themselves, a metallic shriek of rage that makes the entire basement network ring like struck bells.
“DECEPTION!” The word reverberates through every brass fitting in the house. “You twist words like inferior metal – the compact specified control, not mere presence!“
Thomas clings to Meridith’s protective grip, his eyes wide with terror as he realizes what she’s done. The modified pipe network begins to glow again, but erratically now – Vorthak’s anger disrupting its careful calibrations. Several joints crack under the thermal stress.
“Without a willing vessel, I cannot maintain form in this realm much longer,” the demon’s voice grows fainter, dispersing through the heating system. “But I will not be banished so easily, clever godling. This network remains – my anchor to Redstone endures!“
The basement temperature spikes violently as Vorthak pours its remaining energy into the brass infrastructure. Pipes begin to warp and buckle. “If I cannot have a host, then let my final act be to complete what I started. The thermal network will sing my song throughout this borough!“
Steam begins to hiss from stressed joints as the entire system threatens to overload.
Meridith snarls and pushes Thomas to the stairs. “Get up and out, mortal, this fight isn’t for you,” she insists. But she is talented at violence, and destruction, and if this boiler system is the only anchor she turns to that first, blade drawn and ready
Thomas scrambles up the stairs without argument, his footsteps echoing through the house above. The basement erupts into chaos as Meridith draws her blade – pipes scream with superheated steam while Vorthak’s rage flows through every brass fitting.
“You cannot destroy what I have perfected!” The demon’s voice fragments across multiple pipes as Meridith’s sword bites into the first junction. Molten brass sprays like arterial blood, hissing where it hits the concrete floor. The ornate junction box Thomas originally touched pulses with malevolent energy, clearly the network’s heart.
But Vorthak fights back viciously. A section of pipe whips toward Meridith like a serpent, glowing white-hot and trailing steam. Another joint explodes in a geyser of scalding vapor, forcing her to dodge. The temperature climbs dangerously as the demon pours everything into one final surge.
“Even if you sever every connection, the pattern is set! Other houses, other networks – Redstone’s infrastructure will remember my touch!” The junction box flares brighter, and hairline cracks appear in its surface. Whatever Vorthak has anchored there is fighting to maintain its hold on the physical realm.
The entire pipe network shudders as competing forces – demonic will and divine destruction – tear at its carefully crafted design.
Meridith is agile and swift. She is deadly, and talented. a demigoddess to be sure. Her blade swings with strength and her body moves with grace and ease. She dances effortless. “That may be! But in time that network will be undone! And I shall undo it!”
Meridith’s blade carves through brass like silk, each strike precise and devastating. She flows between the whipping pipes with supernatural grace, her sword leaving trails of severed metal and sparking connections. The demon’s network, so carefully constructed over three days, crumbles under her relentless assault.
“No… NO!” Vorthak’s voice grows desperate as junction after junction falls to her blade. The ornate control box flickers wildly, its surface now spider-webbed with cracks. “Centuries of planning… the perfect thermal matrix…“
With a final, elegant strike, Meridith drives her sword directly into the heart of the junction box. The brass splits with a sound like a bell tower collapsing. Brilliant light erupts from the wound, and Vorthak’s scream becomes a dying whistle that fades through the broken pipes.
The basement falls silent except for the hiss of cooling metal. Steam dissipates, revealing the wreckage of what was once an intricate supernatural network. The oppressive heat begins to lift, and somewhere above, Mrs. Holloway calls out in relief as her house’s temperature finally starts to normalize.
Thomas appears at the top of the stairs, pale but steady. “Is… is it over? Is the demon gone?“
The last echoes of Vorthak’s presence fade into nothing, leaving only twisted brass and the satisfaction of a threat eliminated.
Meridith flicks her blade about and sheathes it, content. She steps slow and up. “Yes, it is gone, Thomas. But, we may need to call someone else to fix this up. I think you’ve had a long enough day, yeah?”
Thomas lets out a shaky laugh, running his hands through his hair as the reality of the past three days hits him. “Yeah… yeah, I think I’m done with pipe work for a while.” He looks back at the ruined basement with a mixture of horror and confusion. “I remember bits and pieces – the heat, the voices, thinking I was solving some grand puzzle. God, what did that thing make me do?“
Mrs. Holloway appears behind him, tears of relief streaming down her face. “Thomas! Oh thank heavens, you look like yourself again.” She turns to Meridith with profound gratitude. “I don’t know how to thank you. The whole house feels… normal again. Cool. Quiet.“
Thomas nods, still unsteady but clearly human. “My wife – she must be worried sick. I need to call her, let her know I’m…” He pauses, looking at Meridith with new understanding. “What do I even tell her? That I was possessed by a demon while fixing pipes?“
Outside, the August night has returned to its natural warmth. The oppressive heat that radiated from the house has dissipated completely, and even the distant factory sounds seem less ominous. The brass fixtures throughout the house have returned to their normal, unlit state.
The supernatural threat to Redstone’s heating infrastructure has been eliminated.
Meridith says “Well, I found a guy who was possess by a demon Vorthak. He was working on this like…magical boiler system, using heat and magic. So I offered to exchange myself as his host, since the man was about to die from being used like this. But I caught him in a trick, when he left his host, he couldn’t enter me cuz I tricked him with the wording. Then he attacked me with molten pipes, but it turned out fine.“
Meridith exhales content with this. “She’ll just be happy to see you again.”
Thomas nods, a genuine smile breaking across his exhausted features for the first time in days. “You’re right. She always said I get too caught up in the technical details anyway.” He pulls out his phone with trembling hands. “I’ll tell her there was a gas leak or something – had to stay and make sure the house was safe.“
Mrs. Holloway wraps a shawl around Thomas’s shoulders, maternal instincts taking over. “You’ll stay for tea before you go home. Both of you. It’s the least I can do.” She glances toward the basement door, now firmly closed. “And I suppose I’ll need to find someone else to finish the heating repairs… someone who specializes in supernatural cleanup.“
As they move toward the kitchen, the house settles around them with normal creaks and sighs. The brass fixtures gleam peacefully in the lamplight, no longer pulsing with demonic energy. Through the windows, Redstone continues its nightly industrial rhythm, unaware of how close it came to falling under Vorthak’s influence.
The immediate crisis has passed, but Thomas will need time to recover from his ordeal, and Mrs. Holloway will need extensive repairs. Still, both are alive and free – a successful resolution to a supernatural threat that could have consumed an entire borough.
Meridith says “Huhn? I wasn’t going to, it was a trick.“
Meridith says “I wouldn’t let a demon use me, it was just a trick to get him to leave his Host so he could be banished.“
Meridith says “I like stopping demons from killing innocent people, I’m weird like that“
Meridith nods, feeling like it’s a job well done.
The three of them settle into Mrs. Holloway’s kitchen, where the normalcy of ceramic teacups and homemade cookies feels almost surreal after the supernatural chaos below. Thomas calls his wife, his voice breaking with emotion as he reassures her he’s safe and coming home. Mrs. Holloway bustles about, clearly needing the routine of hospitality to process what she’s witnessed.
“I’ve lived in Redstone my whole life,” she says, pouring steaming tea. “Seen plenty of strange things with all the industrial magic and whatnot. But a demon in my heating pipes?” She shakes her head, offering Meridith a cup. “The Guild’s going to have questions about this, aren’t they Thomas?“
Thomas finishes his call and accepts the tea gratefully. “Probably. But honestly, after tonight, I think I might take a break from the Brass Workers anyway. Maybe try my hand at something less… supernatural.” He looks at Meridith with deep respect. “I don’t know what you are exactly, but thank you. For saving me, and for stopping that thing from spreading through the borough.“
Outside, the August night continues peacefully, Redstone’s residents sleeping safely in their beds, unaware of the disaster that was averted in this quiet Victorian house.
Meridith says “Nobody is -truly- innocent. But those not involved in our battles without the stain of murder shouldn’t be killed. And oh, definitely not martyrdom, at most, cockiness. Sorry I’ll call out next time, I don’t like bothering folks“
Meridith says “Yesss, exactly.“
Meridith peers curiously
Meridith’s curious gaze takes in the domestic scene – the way Thomas’s hands still shake slightly as he holds his teacup, how Mrs. Holloway keeps glancing toward the basement door as if expecting something to emerge, the faint scorch marks on the kitchen ceiling where supernatural heat had risen through the floorboards.
“What is it, dear?” Mrs. Holloway asks, noticing Meridith’s thoughtful expression. “You look like you’re seeing something we’re not.“
Thomas follows her gaze around the room. “Is there… is there still something wrong? Some trace of that thing left behind?” His voice carries a note of worry, the trauma of possession still fresh.
The house feels genuinely peaceful now – no whispers in the walls, no unnatural heat, no brass singing with demonic energy. Yet Meridith’s supernatural senses pick up the lingering echoes of what transpired here. The psychic residue of Vorthak’s presence, the way the very structure of the building had been altered by three days of infernal influence.
“The immediate danger is gone,” Mrs. Holloway says carefully, “but you’re thinking about something, aren’t you?“