“I know you are in here. Show yourself you son-of-a-bitch!” Nothing materialized, but she thought it had been worth a shot.
There was no one in the washroom, and she wasn’t able to see anything in the second bedroom either. Aunt Stella stood in the living room looking toward the kitchen, and she knew there was something somewhere because now she could feel its heaviness. It was a dark soul. How did a person get to be a demon? Perhaps an immoral person went to hell and was then promoted?
Stella stepped into the kitchen and thought that it felt lighter and so she turned and went into the living room and looked around, slowly scanning the room, again thinking that if it was still in here that it had to be some high-level demon. It made her wish that she still had the dagger. Continuing to say the beads she stared into the washroom from the living room.
It was frustrating not being able to see whatever the hell it was, but the damn thing wouldn’t show itself. Maybe some holy water would take care of it? Stella had a bottle of it that she had bought in Florida some years ago, told it was special and kept in one of the drawers in the coffee table. What is going on here? What the hell? She wasn’t able to move her feet as if she was nailed to the floor. Insidious was the word that now came to mind. Crafty devil whoever it was, stopping her from getting to the holy water.
Not being able to move her feet made her off balance but she wasn’t able to fall over, and that was off-putting. Stella was surrounded by some malevolent force, like a giant hand attempting to squash her. The evil entity that had been in Dae-Jung flew from the spare bedroom into the washroom, but Stella had her back to it and didn’t notice. The butterfly that looked as if it was composed of black ash landed on the mirror for several seconds before flying out and setting down on the coffee table.
“So there you are you little evil bastard.” The insect had a slight glow to it. Her feet were suddenly released but did she dare make a move for the holy water? She picked up a book off the coffee table and threw it at it, missing. Stella uncocked the gun and put it down realizing that it would be impossible to shoot it. There was danger here she could feel it. It completely ignored the crosses and her prayers, this damn thing was an upper-level demon.
“Lord, keep this evil away from me.”
Stella hit it with her hand, and the butterfly fell to the floor, and then she stomped it. From the floor it opened its wings, and she stomped it again. The damn thing was still alive, and it flew up and onto her hand. Grabbing it by the wings she pulled, but the effort was futile, no matter how hard she tried it was impossible to remove. It was sinking into her skin, and there was nothing she could do about it.
chapter thirty-seven
ANITA SCREAMED AND WOKE THE DETECTIVE out of a sound sleep, simultaneously scaring her half to death. She had started to go for her gun when she realized that it was her ghost friend. She thought that the dead really shouldn’t be able to mix with the living because that would solve a lot of problems.
“Olivia, get up! Hurry. Your Aunt Stella is in danger!”
The Detective rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “What do you mean? What are you talking about? Where is she?”
“She’s in her apartment being attacked by a demon. Hurry! Bring the dagger!”
The Detective should have received an Olympic medal for how fast she got dressed in her olive-green pantsuit, grabbing her gun and blade she ran out the door. Turning on her lights and siren Olivia sped all the way there, praying that Aunt Stella was okay.
Olivia pounded on Aunt Stella’s door, but there was no response; she used her key to unlock it and opened the door, but something or someone was preventing her from entering. And then she saw the shadow of a man bracing himself against the doorway; she pulled the knife and sliced its hand. The thing screamed and turned to an acrid black smoke and vanished. Although she didn’t know it, the Detective had destroyed the evil soul, and now it wouldn’t be able to return in any form. All souls were eternal, but God had left a way for evil souls to be vanquished with special objects.
In the living room, Olivia stood beside Anita holding the dagger in her hand, not realizing that there was now several drops of blood falling from it. “Aunt Stella, where are you?”
Stella stood in her bedroom doorway motionless, and although she wasn’t moving a muscle, she was in a fistfight with the demon inside her. She knew about possession but never thought she’d experience it like this, and had wondered why God would permit two souls to occupy the same space. This thing was evil to the core as she was able to see some of its past sins, horrific killing that she might never be able to forget, all part of its plan to weaken her.
Aunt Stella was no demon, but she was no pushover either. Years of prayers and blessings had made it difficult for the dark side to manipulate her, but this thing was stronger than she’d ever thought possible. She continued to pray as she fought. It had taken her gun and intended to shoot Olivia, but Stella made the entity drop it, both surprising and aggravating the monster. Now it was more determined than ever to get the gun and kill both Olivia and her baby.
Let go of me you bitch! Bend to my will!
“Get out of my body you bastard!” Stella screamed.
Olivia ran to the bedroom to find Aunt Stella standing and shaking; her eyes were as red as fire, in fact, it looked as though there was a small fire burning in her pupils.
“Olivia cut me with the dagger!”
Anita tried to get the monster out of Stella, but it only laughed at her. It was too powerful for her to have much of an effect on it though she continued to try. Her life was a lot simpler when she was alive.
“Are you crazy! I can’t cut you!”
“You have to! I can’t fight this thing much longer!” Aunt Stella’s voice was meshing with the demon’s, dark and ominous.
It laughed. “You can’t kill your Aunt Stella. How could you live with yourself, Detective?”
Hearing a man’s voice come out of her Aunt was beyond creepy. It was a nightmare come to life. Olivia didn’t like scary movies, and now she was living one. How could the detective make herself slash Aunt Stella?
“You have to cut her and be quick about it before it’s too late!” Anita shouted. “She fading fast.”
Anita was right, the entity was grinding Aunt Stella down with each evil image that she was forced to witness, dragging her like an anchor around her neck. Both Stella’s breathing and her heartbeat were now erratic.
Olivia cut Stella’s left arm with the dagger, and she fell like a ton of cement. The butterfly emerged as it had been stunned, it set down on the doorway, and as the Detective stuck the dagger in the insect, it quickly turned to dust. The cut on Stella’s arm wasn’t too bad, but she was going to need stitches nonetheless.
chapter thirty-eight
Jack was on the North Bronx Van Cortlandt Golf Course known to many as Vanny. On the second hole par 5, he was facing 619 yards, and for many it was an accomplishment to get par on this monster. This course could take all day and one had to have concentration or forget it, and he was definitely leaning towards forget it. All he was able to think about was Olivia and the baby. And he just had the feeling that it was going to eat him up and spit him out.
“Jack, are you ready to play some army golf?” said Henry.
“Yeah, left, right, left.” Jack approached the tee and looked down at his ball. “Oh no, I almost forgot about it,” Jack lied as he glanced at his watch. “I have a meeting in less than an hour and I can’t miss this one. Sorry Henry but I gotta go.”
Henry watched as Jack took off, not sure if he believed him or not, but he was one of the best golfers on this course so he imagined his excuse was factual.
Back in his Infiniti Q80, he felt guilty about abandoning the game, actually considered going back but then quickly dismissed it. He’d need to admit he was lying or tell another lie, that the meeting was canceled. And again his mind just wasn’t on golf this morning.
His first reaction to having a child wasn’t
at all positive, but the more he considered it, and the more he envisioned having a little one running around, well, it just made him smile. Besides, he would need to leave his truck load of money to someone besides charity. And if she wouldn’t marry him then she would have all the heavy lifting, he would just show up when he wanted to play with the little one. And what fun it would be to teach his progeny all the things that he had learned in life. And as soon as he or she was old enough to drive he would buy him or her whatever they wanted. A Corvette, Ferrari, Lexus?
As soon as the kid was born the little tyke would be added to his will. One just never knew when one was going to kick the bucket, his father had been hit by lightning playing golf when he was just thirty-two. Pity the asshole that would try to bully his kid; he’d hire other kids to take care of it. Yes, this was going to work out just fine. He would be taught several languages, French, Mandarin, and Russian would be a good start. Olivia is sure the baby is a girl, but she can’t know that this soon. And where better to learn French than on a vacation in France. Hell, I’ll pay some scientist to teach him stuff.
On the way out of the parking lot, Jack was forced to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting another car, it was time to pay attention to what he was doing.
chapter thirty-nine
ANITA AND TIM HAD BEEN SUMMONED to a small island in heaven where they were to meet with someone named Zebedee. They rowed their little boat over and disembarked near two palm trees where a hammock was hanging next to a hut, moving slightly with the wind.
“What do you suppose Zebedee wants?” asked Tim. “And for that matter who is he?”
“I have no answer for either question my love.”
Anita commenced following the walking trail as it snaked around and up. Beautiful purple wildflowers permeated the area as they walked hand in hand. A little further they came to a set of statues depicting babies, seven in all, and all carved from alabaster. Heaven was a solid place for spirits, but she wondered if this would all be invisible to humans. One infant was laying on a book, another on a blanket, a third child was reaching up to Jesus. Three others were side by side, and Tim guessed that they were triplets. The seventh baby was sleeping on its side and holding a small bear.
Anita saw another rust-red hut in the distance, and she considered that’s where they would find Zebedee. Just before they departed that morning, they had seen a 23-year-old John Wayne as he looked in 1930, riding Ole Dollor which had been one of his favorite horses. Anita thought that he was some handsome back then. This stuff continued to amaze her.
Tim stared at the rolling hills beyond the cabin. “This must be the place.”
Anita nodded. “I guess we should knock.”
Tim hit the door three times.
The male voice was almost melodic. “Come in, come in.”
Zebedee was a short brown fellow with curly hair and a short beard. He was sitting at a small square table and had cups of green tea poured for the three of them. There was a notebook beside his tea. He drank and enjoyed the sweet beverage. “Ah, the young couple. Please have a seat at the table and relax. I don’t bite.”
Tim waited for Anita to be seated and then he did so as well. “We were just wondering why we were summoned here?”
“Oh, it’s nothing bad, good news in fact though you may find it a bit strange.” Zebedee yawned making them wonder what this was about. Nobody really got tired in heaven though some habits weren’t easy to get rid of, and Anita still flicked her hair.
Anita took a drink of tea, and it was delicious, tasted heavenly. “It’s beautiful here.”
“Yes it is, a creation of my own mind, that’s one of the great things about heaven.” Zebedee opened the notebook and read to himself as they watched his lips moving. “So. Obviously, you’ve discovered that you can have sex here.”
“Are we not supposed to have intimate relations?” Tim asked.
Zebedee flicked several pages in his little book “No, no, that’s fine. Not a problem at all. But Anita you are pregnant.”
Anita laughed as it had to be some kind of joke. With no physical body how could she become pregnant? “We’re spirits I can’t get pregnant. You’re making that up.”
Tim was listening intently, interested in what he was going to say next.
“I’ve not heard of it before, but you are. And it will be a girl. The baby will grow up here, and when it is time, she’ll decide if she wants to go to Earth and be born. She might just stay here and really who could blame her.”
Tim scratched the back of his neck. “So we’ve created a soul?”
“You have indeed. All you need do is love her when the time comes, no diaper changes needed.”
It was all a little unbelievable to Anita. She still missed her former fiance, and he was still in mourning for her, and every time she popped in to see him he looked utterly miserable. What would he think of her creating a child with someone else? But people thought differently when they got to heaven, and his eyes would be opened to the machinations of the universe.
“Stand up for me would you?” Zebedee asked Anita. And as she did Tim stared at her stomach. “Do you see her?”
Tim could see a tiny speck of light in her womb, like a star shining in the night sky. “So that light is the baby?”
“It is.”
Anita looked, and now she could also see it, a new soul. She thought about the Detective being with child as well. Heaven had many mysteries. “I see her.”
Zebedee closed the notebook. “When the baby arrives don’t be surprised to be surrounded by lots of relatives wanting to play with her. And word will spread fast. This is exciting.”
Anita nodded pensively, wondering what it all meant.
chapter forty
CALVIN FOX STOOD AT THE EDGE OF THE DRIVEWAY staring across the street; he was smoking a joint of Pink Starburst. He was a scruffy looking dude and had beat the shit out of a friend for the bag of marijuana. He had been raised in the projects by an alcoholic mother and briefly by an abusive father. The miscreant white boy had grown into a brute of a man at almost six and a half feet tall.
The sun would be up soon, and he knew that the eighty-year-old woman always put her garbage out on a Thursday at the crack of dawn. He would kill her, ransack the house to see what goodies he could find. The old bat had lived her life, longer than he would survive he was sure of that. Calvin didn’t imagine that it would take much to strangle her.
He wondered if she had a stash of cash in the house in the last one he had discovered twenty-seven hundred in the freezer. The cold cash had been a welcome surprise. Not bad for a days work. Calvin saw Eleanor open the curtains a crack and peek out; she was ahead of schedule. If she saw him, she might not come out at all, or maybe even call the cops, and so now he had a decision to make.
Calvin walked up the road and out of sight, waiting patiently for the old woman. But after a time he decided to move off and would not be back, he wasn’t going to press his luck because now she was definitely late coming out. He had quite the record as a juvenile but so far nothing as an adult, and he hoped to keep it that way for as long as possible.
Calvin made his way to an all-night pizza joint and ate a 12-inch pizza with the works and finishing it off with a large bottle of Pepsi. He had a couple hundred bucks left, but he would need more soon, or he would be back out on the street. The sun was rising as he sat on a bench and just stared off. That pizza had really hit the spot.
The second of the three black butterflies knew a dark soul when he saw it. It lit on the back of the bench and took in his aura. There wasn’t much color to it at all, mostly dark gray. In a fight that big body would not be easy to take down and would serve the demon well. There was something strange about his aura; he had come from a religious background, had been baptized, and even though he had strayed far from the path he still had some divine protection.
The demon inside the butterfly was trying to determine whether he would be able to access this fellow or not. Th
e shield that surrounded him didn’t appear terribly potent, but it looked as though it would hurt. The entity was accustomed to dishing out pain not receiving it. If the agony were sufficient, he might lose his grip here and slip back into hell, and so it was important to make the proper judgment.
Calvin belched a loud one, and the vapors made it to the insect, reminding him of fresh vomit. It took to the air and circled him, looking for the weakest part of the shield, but so far couldn’t find one. Patience might be a virtue, but he didn’t have much of a tolerance for it. And there it was, a tattoo on the back of his arm of the devil and 666. A weak spot in the armor, an open door.
“What the hell is that?” Calvin swatted at the flying insect, it danced behind him disappearing from sight. The butterfly gave him a peculiar feeling, not something that he had ever felt, vague yet disturbing somehow.
It landed on his left ear, and he slapped himself in the head. It flew down on the 666 and began to sink into him. Calvin grabbed the butterfly and pulled, cutting his finger on its razor sharp wing. “What the fuck?” He watched the blood slide down his palm and then looking back at his forearm it was gone. Only it wasn’t; he could detect it movement inside of his arm, freaking him out now. He stood and did a little dance, but it was too late.
Well hello there?
“Who said that?” An evil laugh inside his head was enough to make him throw up most of his pizza.
Ah, there we go, I have control now. It made Calvin slap himself in the face hard, hurting the demon to a small degree as well but it was worth it. Calvin began jumping around like some sort of freak show, making a young couple stare in his direction.
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