The Reaping: Language of the Liar

by Angella Graff

  “For this kid?” Lennox shrugged and clasped his hands on the table. “Nothing. Assuming everything goes to plan, he’ll have a long nap and when he wakes up, the nightmares will have stopped and he won’t suffer again.”

  “And the doorway won’t reopen? He won’t have to go through all that again?”

  Lennox frowned for a second, then his eyes widened as he realized what Dorian was getting at. “Ah. You want to know what’s going to happen to you?”

  Her head nodded, eyes down, afraid to meet his gaze. “Assuming it all goes to plan with me, what happens to me after? I wake up the next morning and I’m normal? No more blackouts? No more schizophrenia?”

  There was a pause so long, Dorian was forced to look up, and she saw Lennox’s face drawn and a little sad. “It’s different with people like you.”

  She couldn’t help a laugh, and she sat back in the chair. “You mean the full-on crazies.”

  “I mean the people being actively possessed.” He drummed his fingers on the table in a fast rhythm, like he was tapping out keys on a piano. “People like this boy, they’re what we call doorways. They’re being used to transport demons to another dimension. Like a mental superhighway extending through every universe out there. But people like you,” he stopped and took in a breath. “Thirteen percent of the population are doorways. About two percent of those, at least that we know of presently, are actively possessed. Demons use their bodies to walk around our world. When that happens, they develop a hold on you. Some leave without any real fight, but the stronger ones, they’re reluctant to give up their human hosts.”

  Dorian fought back a shiver as she thought about Nic. He was definitely strong, a leader of his kind, and she knew he wouldn’t let her go without a fight. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying people like you, Dorian, are special. But what we have to do in your case is dangerous, and the people going through that kind of exorcism don’t always survive. A percentage do but…” He trailed off, not meeting her gaze.

  Her stomach sank and the food she’d just eaten threatened to come back up. “Oh.” She reached for her soda, put the can to her lips, but couldn’t bring herself to drink anything and set it back down with a sigh. She tried to process what he was saying, but it was too much for her brain to handle all at once, so she moved on. “Were you exorcised?”

  “As a baby.” Lennox reached back and scratched the base of his hair bun. “My parents were Exorcists, so they had access to powers, were able to find out that I was a doorway early on. They had me properly shut down before I was aware of anything. But I was raised in the Community and for those of us born to all this, it’s pretty standard.”

  “So you were never possessed?”

  His head shook, and he looked almost sorry for his answer. “I know a lot of this isn’t making sense yet, and a lot of it takes years to understand, but I’m going to try and get you as informed as I can before we have to work on you.”

  Dorian gave a slow nod, breathing in and out through her nose. “So… am I going to die?”

  Before Lennox could answer, the door opened and Dash walked in with an unfamiliar woman standing behind him. She was taller than he was, her body very fit and muscular. She had dark skin, dark curls pulled back away from her face, and she was wearing brown leggings and a black t-shirt. Her face was set in a hard line, her brown eyes narrow, lips set in a frown, and she regarded Dorian with heavy suspicion as they came into the room.

  “Dorian, this is Briar, the resident Reaper.” Dash made flippant introductions as he set two paper bags on the edge of the table. “Briar, this is Dorian, our current possession.”

  Dorian felt naked under the scrutiny of the Reaper, confused as to what a Reaper was, and why the woman looked like she wanted to jump across the table and slit Dorian’s throat. “Um. Hi.”

  “You’re right. She’s got something very strong with claws deep in this girl. You’re going to have a bitch of a time getting it out. Your little trinket,” Briar nodded at the bracelet Lennox slapped on Dorian’s wrist, “isn’t gonna do shit for long.”

  As Briar stepped closer, Dorian was able to see small, paper-thin scars peppering her face and arms. Her hands were rough, calloused, and Dorian spotted a knife sitting on a holster around the back of Briar’s waist.

  “Don’t mind her,” Dash said as he plopped down. “She’s just cranky because she’s been working over time.”

  “You’re an ass.” Briar smacked Dash upside the head as she walked down the hall, and a few seconds later a door slammed.

  “Why does she look like she wants to kill me?” Dorian asked after a moment of silence.

  Lennox let out a sigh. “Because she does a little bit.” When Dorian startled, he shook his head. “Not you specifically, but she’s a Reaper. She can see what’s inside of you and it’s instinct.”

  Now frustrated and feeling like she was about to be hunted by this woman, Dorian crossed her arms. “What does that mean? And what the hell is a Reaper?”

  “The short of it,” Dash said as he started pulling jars of herbs and liquids out of the paper bags, “she was possessed. Like you. She survived her exorcism after possession, and it left her with certain abilities.”

  Dorian’s eyebrows shot up. “Abilities?”

  “The ability to see and sense demons. She can tell when a person is connected to the demon realms.”

  “A doorway?” Dorian asked.

  Dash nodded. “Exactly. She can also see the demons. All Reapers can.”

  “And this kid. Will that happen to him?”

  Dash and Lennox looked at each other before Lennox shook his head. “No, lass. It won’t.”

  Realization hit her and she let out a puff of air. “But it will…it can… happen to me. If I survive.” She rubbed her hands down her face and let out a frustrated laugh. “I don’t have a choice in this, do I? You’re not going to let me say no.”

  Dash leaned across the table and clasped his hands a few inches from her plate. “There are options, love. A few of them, but none are pleasant. It’s important you see what we have to show you, to understand why we have to do this.”

  She wanted to laugh, then maybe cry. Part of her wanted to rage and throw things, upend the table and claw their eyes out before making a run for it. She felt trapped, attacked, and very alone. But part of her, some quiet, sleeping part of her brain knew they were telling the truth. That it wasn’t some elaborate hallucination brought on by her multiple conditions. That escaping here and going into the hospital for another round of drugs was only slapping a band-aid on the problem. Eventually Nic would take her over and she’d lose herself. Forever.

  “When do we leave?”

  Lennox let out an audible sigh of relief, slapping his hands down on the table as he stood up. “Let me grab our bags and we can be out the door.”

  Dorian waited in the chair, arms hugging her middle as she watched Dash prepare several vials of liquids, bags of powders, and a variety of charms which he shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He looked up occasionally, doing his best to give her reassuring smiles and winks, but it didn’t help.

  She was terrified, beyond all reason, and there was no way out.

  Lennox came out a few minutes later, his face drawn, duffle bag slung over his shoulder, and he let out a frustrated growl. “Briar isn’t coming. She said it’s beneath her.”

  “Of course it is,” Dash replied, rolling his eyes. “Doesn’t matter, does it? We don’t need a Reaper for this one.”

  “Except if what Dorian said is true, they might be on to us. Trying to beat us to the punch.”

  “Not worried about it.” Dash gathered up his things, crossed the room and placed a tender kiss on Lennox’s cheek. “You shouldn’t either. Besides,” he turned to Dorian who was watching them with narrow eyes, “we’ve got her. With that charm, she’s very nearly a Reaper and if anything tries to pop though, she’ll be able to see it. Maybe even give it a nice little push back through t
he door.”

  Dorian’s face went hot, eyes going wide. “I’m sorry, what? I might what?”

  “That charm,” Dash said, pointing to her hand, “allows you protection from your demon friend, but keeps the spell I put on your wrists active a bit longer than usual.” When Dorian opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand. “Trust me, love. You need that. And it’s best you can see everything that happens.”

  She swallowed against the lump in her throat, but didn’t argue any further when Dash brushed past her, opening the front door. The food in her stomach felt like a sack of rocks, sloshing heavy and uncomfortable as they made their way down the stairs. Rushing through the lobby, Lennox kept directly on her heel, Dash leading the way to their car. It was much nicer than Dorian expected, a new fuel efficient, electric car, and her surprise was evident on her face.

  “We’re not heathens. And I appreciate the gas mileage with how expensive it’s got.” He winked as she climbed into the back seat, and then tossed the bags in next to her.

  The two men climbed in after, Lennox pulling up an address on the car’s GPS, then he looked back at her and offered a smile. “This is the easy part, trust me.”

  She nodded but said nothing, her gaze fixing out onto the city streets as Dash pulled away from the curb. Her emotions were all over the place, and she fought off the urge to rip the car door open and bolt. As her head started to spin, panic bubbling, the bracelet on her wrist gave a sharp twinge and everything swam back into focus.

  When she came to herself, she was leaning back against the seat of the car, her hand on the side of her face, and Lennox was twisted around, staring at her with wide eyes. “You okay there, lass?”

  Dorian nodded, gulping in a few breaths of air as she tried to calm herself. “Yeah um… not really sure what happened.”

  “He’s fighting you,” Dash replied, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “The charm will protect you, but he’s a strong one. Keep a firm hold on your mind and I promise it’ll be okay.”

  Her hands trembling, she clasped them in her lap and nodded. There wasn’t anything else she could do. For now, the mounting panic was gone, but the echoes remained. If it really was Nic trying to fight her, she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to hold him off.

  Dorian only had a few minutes to worry about it, however. Their destination was only a few miles away, and within a handful of minutes, Dash pulled in front of a curb and shut the car off. The neighborhood was just outside the main city, one of those suburban, cookie-cutter housing developments with red-tiled roofs and adobe plaster walls. The lawns were all manicured, identical to one another. The only way to distinguish this house from the others was by a string of wrought iron butterflies nailed to the wall beside the front door.

  Letting herself out, Dorian stepped aside as the guys pulled the bags from the backseat. Dash slammed his on the trunk, ripping open the zipper, and he pulled out a silver pot, a vial of thick red liquid, and one of the powder sacks.

  “Here,” he said, shoving the vial and bowl over to Lennox. “Get our stuff ready and I’ll prep his potion.”

  With a frown, Dorian stepped back to watch them work. It really was similar to a chemistry class. Dash was holding out a water bottle half-full, tipped to the side as he used a tiny spoon to measure out the powder. He added a few drops of clear liquid from a dropper he kept in his pocket, then capped it and gave it a shake. The liquid in the bottle turned yellow, shimmered with an unnatural light, then began to bubble like it had reached a rolling boil.

  Holding the water bottle tightly, Dash muttered a sentence under his breath, and before Dorian’s eyes, the liquid settled and the color went from bright yellow to clear. With a satisfied hum, he shoved the water bottle into the pocket of his coat and turned to Lennox who was mixing something in the bowl.

  “All set?”

  Lennox nodded and took a tiny paint brush from his pocket. Dipping it into the liquid, he waited until Dash rolled up his sleeves, exposing his pale forearms. With careful motions and a muttered incantation, Lennox began to draw intricate, swirling symbols all along the naked skin. A few times Dorian saw Dash wince, and she remembered the burn of her own markings

  When it was finished, the symbols glowed for a second, then faded into the skin and the men traded places. The ritual was the same, Lennox bracing himself as Dash wove the spell around the other Exorcist. When he was finished, Lennox took the bowl and turned to Dorian who was staring at him with an apprehensive grimace.

  “Me next?”

  He shook his head. “You’re good for now. But you let us know if anything out of the ordinary happens.”

  Dorian’s eyebrows shot up. “Out of the ordinary? At an exorcism?”

  Dash laughed and slung his arm around her shoulders as they started toward the door. “You know what we mean, love. Expect to see some strange things here, but anything starts to feel like it’s taking you over, you let us know.”

  Letting out a slow breath, she nodded. “Alert you if I get possessed. Got it.”

  Dash chuckled again as he dropped his arm to ring the bell, and a few moments later, a woman answered the door. She looked tired, a little frayed with her brown hair pulled into a messy bun and her pale face splotchy over her cheeks and chin. She was wearing a pair of yoga pants and a zippered hoodie, and her nails were painted a fierce pink.

  She beckoned everyone inside, and Dorian brought up the tail end of the group, staying planted behind Dash as they walked into the living room. The place was large, two story, carpeted, cream colored walls with a smattering of art. The furniture was earth tones, simplistic design, and well lived in. Dorian could hear a faint barking from somewhere in the house, indicating a small dog, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of a cat’s tail.

  “Thank you for coming,” the woman said as she beckoned them through an archway and into a tiled kitchen. Dorian peered around Dash and saw a young boy no older than ten sitting in a large recliner, eyes glued to a handheld game.

  “Have you explained to him what’s going on?” Lennox asked as he set his bags on the table.

  The woman shook her head, giving Dorian a sharp look before speaking. “I told him you were people who could help with the nightmares. He seemed okay with it. For now.”

  Dash hummed his reply, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the water bottle. Instead of handing it off to Lennox or the woman, he turned to Dorian. “Why don’t you go over there and introduce yourself, eh? Get him talking, and see if he’ll drink this.”

  Dorian’s hand hovered over the bottle, surprised by the request, but the boy’s mom quickly spoke up. “Wait a minute. Who is she? And what are you trying to give my kid?”

  “Don’t worry, Beth,” Lennox said, holding out one hand, “she’s an expert. She’s been in your son’s shoes before.”

  Beth’s eyes went wide and she ripped her gaze back to Dorian. “You have? The dreams?”

  “And worse,” Dorian replied as she took the water bottle. “But I know what he’s going through.” Then Dorian realized what the boys were asking of her and she froze. She’d never done anything like this before and she wasn’t sure what to say. “Do you um…”

  Dash immediately pulled her to the side, gripping one shoulder tight. “You work with kids every day, right? Just talk to him on his level. We need him to take the potion willingly and honestly, Len and I are both rubbish with kids.”

  Dorian let out a puff of air, then nodded. Terrified as she was, she figured she might as well make herself useful. This could all be some elaborate hallucination, or some faith-healing circus kind of nonsense, but she had to see it for herself. She had to know what she was getting herself into. “Yeah. Yeah okay, no problem.”

  The boy’s mom seemed reluctant, but didn’t argue when Dorian walked across the kitchen and into the sitting area. The place was set up like a game room, a couch, recliner, and large TV mounted to the wall with a couple game systems sitting in a nest of wires on
the floor.

  The kid in the chair glanced up, his blue eyes wide and fearful, but Dorian could tell he was trying to remain calm as he jammed on the game’s buttons. She knew how he was feeling. She remembered well the abject fear of those dreams, the fear of going to sleep. To this day, she lived in a fog of perpetual exhaustion, and it wrenched her heart to think of another child this young suffering.

  “What are you playing?” She lowered herself onto the edge of the heavy coffee table near his feet.

  There was a pause before he answered. “Vampire Apocalypse.”

  Dorian grinned. “Awesome.” When the kid looked up in surprise, she gave a shrug. “I teach an art class, and about half the kids there are obsessed with that game.”

  “Yeah. It’s alright, I guess.” He let the game hover over his thigh before dropping it. “You one of those doctor dudes?”

  Dorian shook her head. “No. I’m sort of their resident expert on what you’re going through.”

  His eyes narrowed, challenging her. “Oh yeah? An expert?”

  She almost laughed, but knew she would damage the weak rapport they had going. “I have the dreams too. About the dark room and open doors. The man who glows bright but the light never touches anything?”

  The kid’s eyes flared open wide. “How’d…”

  She shook her head. “I’ve been having them since I was a little kid. And I know it sounds crazy, but these guys can help. They can make it stop. Forever. No more panic attacks about open doors or windows. No more getting nervous when you stand in front of a mirror. No more strange people invading your private thoughts.”

  He regarded her for a long moment before staring down at the water bottle in her hand. “And that?”

  “Just something to help.” She held it out to him, and after he looked at his mom for conformation, he took it from her hand. “Get it down in one go, it’ll make it easier.” She had no idea what she was talking about, really. She wasn’t sure what the potion did, or what it was for, but she used her soothing teacher tone and it was working.