Thou Shalt Not – chapter 1

Author's Notes (please read): This is a Carrie/The Exorcist crossover. This is set before the events in 'Carrie' (the book, set in 1974), perhaps a few months before the prom. This would make Carrie 17 years of age and Regan 15 (The Exorcist novel is set in 1971).

I realise some people may have a problem with this, and I say to you; in The Exorcist, a 12 year old girl is forced to masturbate with a crucifix in front of her own mother, there is very little I can write or do that is worse than that, to be honest.

Pairing: Eventual Carrie White/Regan Teresa MacNeil

Warnings: Femmeslash, gore, possession, anti-/overly religious views

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'Matthew 12:43-45: "When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest, and findeth none."'

What is it that draws evil and instability, like a moth to a bright, burning flame? Is it only pure innocence that draws demons, or can anyone suffer the forced slavery as the entity captures you within your own mind?

Demons are drawn to the innocent, children are easily susceptible. And they are fragile souls, even when the demon has been banished they can often be left fractured and damaged.

Regan MacNeil held on to her mother's comforting arm as the older woman unpacked the box at her feet. They were in a new town, in a new life. This was not their first try in the past few years of the fifteen-year-old's life but, she hoped that this town would hold the key to forgetting the past.

"Regan darling, I can't finish unpacking with you hanging on to me like that. Why don't you take those bags upstairs and start unpacking some of your things?" Her mother drew her arm away and hunched over the box, sorting through the contents.

Regan huffed, pouting for a moment before admitting defeat. She bent and hefted the bags up, throwing one over her shoulder and holding the other under her other arm. She poked her pink tongue out at her mother's turned back before turning towards the staircase. With a little hesitance, she stomped up the stairs.

The landing was dark and rather foreboding. There was limited lighting with no windows in the upper hall and the single hanging bulb not functioning. There were three upstairs rooms; large bedroom, a small bedroom and a pokey little bathroom which held more mould than space.

The teen elbowed the door to the smaller bedroom open. She sighed and surveyed the room with an unimpressed expression. It seemed tiny. Her single bed seemed to take up half the room, with her wardrobe overlapping the window, cutting off most of the light. The floorboards were bare, worn and scratched. The walls were adorned with faded, torn wallpaper, most likely from a past nursery, with little ducks and flowers.

Regan dumped the bags down and sat down on her bed, which creaked in protest. From here she could see out of the window. There was a tree outside, it's branches tapping on the glass in the light breeze. She could hear birdsong and see the houses across the street. The sky was grey but the sunshine was strong and she found herself smiling. It was the early Spring and the tree's leaves were beginning to glow, it was thinking of Summer.

She lay back and stared up at the ceiling. It held a few cobwebs and dirty white paint. She rolled her eyes, no doubt her mother would tell her to 'spring clean'. Suddenly, without warning, a flash of something appeared before her. She gave a cry and jerked off the bed, covering her eyes.

A few moments later, Regan heard her mother call in concern. She uncurled on the floor and took her hands from her face, panting. She looked around the room.

There was nothing there.