Deliverance from Evil

by Michael Cross

  Bethany then said that maybe we could start going out to more elegant functions, as well as less formal events in the future. I asked how Vincent would feel and she said, “I don’t give a…sorry, I almost said something bad. My dear Jennifer, as long as we stick together we can convince him to see things our way.” I sure hoped she was right.

  I changed out of the gown and put on one of the skirts and tops. Bethany hung up the gown and the rest of my new clothes and I wrapped my quilt around myself for warmth. I had mixed feeling for sure. I loved my new clothes, I loved the way Bethany showered me with affection, and yes, I loved her as well. I wondered how Vincent would feel about all the new clothes, but what scared me was that it would only entice him to want me more. I said a prayer to myself that something would happen to him and we would never see him again. I doubted Bethany shared my hatred, but I could hate him enough for the both of us if she was unable to see how evil he truly was.

  We spent the evening watching TV and just enjoying ourselves. Bethany asked if I might like to spend the next day sewing a while – especially since there was a thunder storm predicted to come in and maybe outdoor activities would not be possible, especially since I was still a bit weak. I enthusiastically accepted her offer. That evening we fell asleep next to each other on the couch.

  The next morning after breakfast we went into the living room and Bethany brought out her sewing materials and did her best to teach me some of her skills. We had the TV on for background and she had switched on one of those model reality shows. I found such entertainment quite superficial but she seemed to enjoy commenting on the dresses the girls were wearing, which ones she thought were pretty and which were not, and who she wanted to win. She then saw a girl wearing a navel ring and asked me to stand up. She asked me to wait a moment as she went into her room. She came out with an expensive-looking diamond hanging ear-ring. She pouted that it had been a graduation gift from her mother but that on a trip with Vincent while she had been pregnant she had lost the mate to it. She asked if I might like to have it as for my navel.

  I thought about it and, in the heat of the moment, said, “Sure!” She went through her sewing kit, found a long needle. She left for a second and came back with rubbing alcohol and a candle. A few months earlier I would have cringed at the prospect of what was about to take place, but not at that moment. She heated up the needle, and put alcohol on and around my navel. She asked, “Are you ready?” and I nodded anxiously but smiling. I felt a sharp sting and then, a moment later she removed the needle and put the ring in. It felt uncomfortable, and started swelling a bit, but she said that in a few days it should be fine. It was funny how this look Bethany was giving me contrasted with what I once pictured myself. I got the urge to try it out. I thought about how fun it would be to show off the new look in public, and I asked Bethany if we could go into Hermiston and go shopping or something, but she said that she was still feeling tired and would just like to hang around the house a while longer. She was convinced it was just some minor virus she was fighting off and promised that we would go soon. Besides, she said it would take a few days for the swelling to go down.

  As the week progressed we heard nothing from Vincent and Bethany seemed to be concerned. I was more concerned that we would hear from him, although I said nothing to that effect to her. She seemed to get some of her energy back but we did not do much outdoor stuff. However, in those few days I seemed to have got the hang of sewing.

  It was strange though, while looking through one of her sewing magazines I came across ideas for back-to-school clothing for little kids. It struck me that it had been long enough since I had donated eggs that some of those children might be old enough for school, at least kindergarten. I wondered how many children with my eyes, hair and even maybe unique personality were sitting in classrooms that day. And then there were my own children – still really too young for school but in a few years they too would be there. It was a weird feeling -- it even made me feel a bit old. I also felt somewhat sad, realizing I would never see them grow up and develop any more than I would I would be a part of their unknown siblings’ lives who were growing up in households spread across who-knows-where. At that moment I again was hit with the idea that maybe, just maybe, enduring what Vincent had in mind for me might not be so bad if he could at least give me a child I could raise. I still felt hatred for him but that was more than compensated with my feelings of joy when Bethany was near. I looked at Bethany and thought how much she might like a “grandchild” to spoil with home-made clothes and fresh pies and cakes. The only thing that concerned me was that my reproductive system had still not returned to normal. Could my hormones have been so thrown off that I would never be able to have children anymore?

  Days continued to pass until it was mid-September. Then, one early morning while we were eating breakfast the phone rang – it was Vincent. He said he was coming home that day and that nobody was to do any outside chores – which meant no feeding of the pigs either. I spent the rest of the day wondering if Vincent would have company.

  Chapter 13

  I decided that Vincent might need some time getting used to the new style of dress so I changed into some jeans I had worn on the road trip. I put on a blouse but it rubbed against my navel piercing so I changed into a loose-fitting t-shirt. It was strange though, when he drove up in the driveway he parked and got out without saying hello to either of us as we came out to greet him. He merely asked Bethany to take me out and pick some berries for a pie. As I was putting on my walking shoes Vincent looked at me and asked, “Are you getting soft on me already?” I shook my head and removed the shoes before leaving.

  I turned to Bethany and asked, “Isn’t it strange how he asked us to go berry picking?” Bethany shook her head as she bent down to start clearing a bush covered in berries, “No, not really. Often after one of his trips he asks me to go do something away from the house. He’ll honk the horn when he’s ready for us to return.” That made me nervous. I was almost absolutely sure what this meant. He was not alone! I had killed before – in fact by now there were probably few people in the entire country who had been involved in as many killings as I had been – with the possible exception of the government I thought. Yet I had no desire to be involved in hurting anyone who was innocent. That was where Vincent and I were different. And my fear was that today I might be asked to take a life of someone who did not deserve to die; maybe even several if he wanted to give me an early birthday present. And unlike the woman in Reno, I would not be able to fake it. Of course I could run off into the countryside but what of Bethany, not to mention my family? He did, after all, know where they lived. Would he take revenge? Yes, I believed he would, despite what he said about never harming kids.

  After maybe an hour we had gathered enough berries and at that precise moment we heard the blast from the car horn in the distance. I cannot say I was anxious to get back. I asked Bethany what we would be doing soon and she was convinced we would make a pie together. I hoped she was right.

  Yet when we got back the house, and we headed for the kitchen, Vincent stopped me and said, “We have some work to do.” He pointed to the stairs. I reluctantly descended the steps to the basement. Just as I reached the bottom he shut the door to the upstairs and locked it. My heart jumped into my throat as I feared for the worse. I reached for the door to my former prison, doing my best to hide my fear, but he grabbed me by the arm, “I missed you a lot this week.” I desperately tried to seem convincing, “I really missed you too Vincent:” He pulled me closer, swung me around and pressed my back against his body. I dared not resist as he twisted my head towards him and forced me to kiss him. He seemed in a rush as he released my head and slid both his hands under my blouse; he let out an approving growl when he discovered I was not wearing a bra. He kept me in that position as we kissed passionately for what appeared like an eternity, yet maybe only lasted four or five minutes. I had been prepared for the worse, but not this too. I could not say which I would
have considered the proverbial “fate worse than death itself.”

  Vincent stopped kissing me for a moment and whispered in my ear, “I don’t think we should wait until next month.” I sought something, anything, to say at that moment but all I could think of was, “I know how you feel, but shouldn’t we wait until we have some protection?” He scoffed and responded with a tighter hold on my body and replied, “Nonsense, remember what I said? I have nothing against abortion, so we have nothing to worry about, do we?” Maybe he was okay with such an option but I was not. I had resolved, however, that in a few short moments he was going to have his way with me, unless something pretty miraculous happened really fast. And, to my amazement, it did!

  He released his grip on my breasts and started caressing my skin as he headed further down my body. Then he felt my piercing and stopped. He twisted me around and, in a loud and abusive voice, like that of a really irate father confronting his daughter, asked, “What the hell is this?” I cowered at his shriek, but offered up no explanation as he continued “Was this one of Bethany’s ideas or was it yours? Tell me now you worthless little whore!” I was scared to answer him as I wanted to protect Bethany. Yet he grabbed me by the top of my shirt and lifted me up off the floor. As I was hanging there, barely able to take a breath, he grunted, “It doesn’t matter. It’s not too late for me to make sure she does not make you into some worthless little tramp she can play with.”

  He released me, “Tuck your shirt in! We can discuss this later. We have important work to do…quite philosophical work I might add.” What his lesson was I feared I could guess. What I would soon encounter, however, was more horrific than I could have originally imagined!

  He swung open the door and invited me in with one of those bowing gestures a prince might be pictured as doing for his beloved princess. I stepped inside and he switched the lights on. What I saw were two people hogtied on the floor – a man and a woman. They were naked, their mouths taped, and blindfolded. I determined they knew each other since they were both huddled close. The woman was crying in a muffled sort of way.

  In a melancholy voice he explained, “I searched far and wide to find the perfect candidates for this experiment. Then I came upon this isolated little Lebanese Orthodox church. It was not Sunday and this couple was alone doing some yard work.” He leaned over and stared at the woman whose stared back in abject fear, “It was so easy to subdue them. They were so trusting, at least until I lead them into my trunk.” He stood up, “Melanie, here’s the deal. Unlike any of my past conquests these two beautiful young people might leave here alive. Does that disappoint you? If so we can start cutting things up immediately.” I swallowed and replied, “I’m okay with giving them a chance.” I was desperately trying to determine what his agenda was.

  He brought me over to the couple and began talking in an even more arrogant, convoluted, manner than usual, repeating to me his view that with enough adverse stimuli a person will abandon their long-cherished beliefs – they will even abandon their loved ones. I did not really pay much attention to his monologue as I could not take my eyes, or mind, off the poor couple lying helpless on the floor.

  Suddenly Vincent stopped lecturing and said, “Now let’s begin!” He walked over to a burlap bag on the floor behind the couple and took out a baseball bat. He tossed it on the ground. The sound of the bouncing wood, universally recognizable, startled the couple. He then took out his machete and set it down gently. He stooped over and was able to pick up the man and hurl him onto the gurney with ease. The woman could not turn to see her husband. She was crying uncontrollably but Vincent walked up to her and warned, “If you want to see your precious husband alive again you better shut up!” He asked if she understood and she nodded her head to indicate she did – but she seemed to be desperately trying to fight back the tears.

  I was becoming less and less shocked by the situation. However, I was developing more of a focused hatred for Vincent. Yet there was absolutely nothing I could do! He picked up the bat and walked over to the man, ripped the tape from his mouth and asked, “Do you believe in God?” The man replied with a slight Middle Eastern accent, “Yes! With all my heart! Why…” Vincent cut him off. “Would you renounce God if I promise that I’ll release you and your wife right this instant? It’s that easy!” The man, in-between fast and deep breaths replied, “I could never deny my God no matter what.” Vincent laughed as he knelt and stared at the man directly, “You know brother, I was once like you. I was so dedicated to God.” The man asked what had happened to change him and Vincent responded, “Life is what happened, I found out just how lousy life can be!” The man, still stressed but maybe feeling a bit hopeful asked, “Did God want it to be bad? Does God take pleasure in the pain of his children?” Vincent laughed, “If God is so powerful then why can’t he save you right now?” The man, cried, “I have no way of knowing God’s will but I have faith that God will protect me.” Vincent then said, “Protect you from me perhaps? Is that what God wants?” The man said, “Maybe he will touch your heart and realize you can do his will and have happiness.” Vincent asked, “Happiness? How dare you speak of happiness when here you are, my prisoner, and you serve God...oh how I was like you, so many years ago! Maybe I can bring you happiness by saving you from becoming like me someday.”

  Vincent stood up and again asked, “Do you want to be free? Will you renounce your God.” The man said he would not. Then Vincent swung the bat down on the bone of his lower leg so hard it sounded like someone had cracked an egg when it shattered. The man screamed out in agony and called for his wife to be strong. He then started praying. Again Vincent made the demand and the man said he would not renounce God. Vincent, frustrated, swung the bat down on the man’s other leg, shattering it in the same manner.

  He threw the bat down and screamed, “Now?” The man continued to refuse and continued to say a prayer aloud. Vincent picked up the machete and took a step towards him. I ran over to him and said, “Hey, my love, come on…why not let this one and his wife go? Look, they have no idea who we are. This one seems to have endured; even though you inflicted all this pain he’s held out. Why not let them go?” He looked at me without saying a word. I could see in his eyes he did not want my opinions so, gulping down all my pride I promised him, “Vincent, please, if you let them go we can celebrate together. You can do whatever you want with me – anything!” Vincent smiled and asked, “So whatever I want to do, no matter how perverse, no matter how degrading…you will do that if I let them go?” I dreaded the outcome of my answer but I said, “Yes, gladly.” He looked at me and said, “My God, you really are a dirty little whore! I mean Melanie Lindberg, psychologist, author, and mother – and here you are offering up your body just like some filthy little streetwalker!”

  I was in shock! He had said my name in front of these people – intentionally! Now he could not let them go. I stood there stunned as he continued, “You think you are doing something that is honourable, like some martyr. Yet you are offering your services so you can feel like you did something remarkable. Give me a break. I will have your body not because you offer it, but because I want it. You can make up your mind as to whether you want to spend the next twenty or thirty years hating it, or enjoying it, it doesn’t matter to me.”

  He walked over to the man and said, “Dr Lindberg over there wants me to let you go. She is even offering her services as a common prostitute to buy your freedom. Look, all you have to do is renounce God and…I will let you go and I won’t rape and kill your wife. You understand?” The man was crying and said, “Don’t hurt my wife, please, don’t. If you promise to let her go I will do as you wish.” I found myself paralyzed with hate, fear and disgust. Vincent called out, “Still want me to let them go Dr Melanie Lindberg?” I nodded my head to indicate…yes, I wanted them released. He laughed like I had said something totally foolish. Then, without any warning, he yanked the machete across the man’s neck! He jumped back quickly and stated, “You have to be fast at that or th
e squirt will drench you every time!”

  I lost it when he did that. I screamed, “You promised to let them go!” He again laughed, “You never seriously believed I would do that, did you?” He walked over, and with absolutely no sign of respect he pushed the body of the man off the gurney and onto the floor.

  The woman was crying and squirming around frantically. Vincent walked up to her and said, “Your turn now!” and at that I sprang out at him, grabbed his arm and screamed, “You fucking son of a bitch take your hands off of her!” He easily twisted around, pushed me against the wall, with enough force that the back of my head felt like it exploded. He sprang over and pinned in a stranglehold, in less than a second! He whispered in my ear, “Now that was not very ladylike, was it? Maybe you need to think about what you just said – but just to make sure you can’t swear at me while you are thinking let me help you control your impulses.” At that he tightened his arm around my neck to where I could not breathe at all! I struggled, kicked, but it was no use. I could not even scream. I had thought he would release me immediately but just as I felt that horrible sensation of not being able to hold out any more he tightened the grip and even yanked back with his arm. Time seemed to stand still. It was as if I could not hear anything or even care anymore. I relaxed, realizing that in less time than it would take to walk up the stairs I would be dead. I just gave up and let my body go motionless. I thought that in a very short time I would find out the answer to the ultimate question.