Alistair Jones

I put my sweeping brush down, push my black hair away from my yellow eyes and seize a nearby cross. In my free and admittedly shaky hand, I pick up a bible and, stepping determinedly into the centre of the aisle between the rows of wooden pews, say in a clear voice, my English accent echoing slightly off the walls. "Demon! Where are you? Stop hiding like a coward and come out here! I will vanquish you under the name of the Lord!" I might seem composed, but inside I'm losing my mind!