Invisible Terror Collection

by Bill Myers

  “I’m not real good at this kinda stuff … but you know what we need here. There’s some kids in that house who don’t know what they’re dealing with. Show them, God. Let them see what’s really happening. And, uh …” He hesitated, unsure where to go.

  Becka couldn’t help but give his hand a squeeze of encouragement. That’s all it took. “And help us too. Show us the right thing to do, keep us safe, and don’t let us mess up too bad. In Jesus’

  name we pray. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Becka repeated softly.

  They opened their eyes and looked at one another. The lump had returned to Becka’s throat, but this time it had nothing to do with sadness or even fear. It had everything to do with her feelings for Ryan.

  They stepped out of the car and headed for the house. It was fancy, three stories, and worth a lot of bucks. They reached the door, knocked, and endured the hellos and pleasantries from Julie’s mom. Becka knew she should try and explain what was going on, but she also knew the woman wouldn’t believe them.

  Fortunately, she saved Becka the trouble by explaining that she and her husband were just heading out to catch a movie.

  Becka’s eyebrows raised. How convenient.

  Or was it?

  “Go on upstairs,” Julie’s mom said while slipping into her coat. “And if you and the rest of the gang want any munchies, feel free to help yourself in the kitchen.” The last thing Becka or Ryan wanted to do was eat, but they thanked her and started up the stairway. Rebecca could feel her heart pounding. She’d had lots of encounters with the enemy lately, but she was still frightened. Maybe that was good. Maybe the fear was a reminder that this stuff wasn’t something to play with.

  She reached out and took Ryan’s hand. It was as cold and damp as hers.

  They arrived at the top of the staircase, turned, and headed for Julie’s room. Fourth door on the left. Once there, they stopped and looked at each other. There was no missing the anxiety each was feeling. Becka took a deep breath and nodded.

  Ryan reached for the knob, turned it, and pushed. Neither was prepared for what they saw.

  The room looked normal enough. It was large and painted in robin’s egg blue. On one side was a dresser and a white vanity with a huge mirror surrounded by a dozen softly glowing bulbs. The next wall contained a closed window with white chif-fon curtains that stirred in a strange sort of breeze. Beside the window was a towering bookshelf that ran from the ceiling to the floor, also in white. Next to the bookshelf was a desk with a top-of-the-line computer on it. The final wall was nothing but a giant walk-in closet. None of this was surprising. Becka knew Julie had money. She also knew Julie never showed it off, which was why they were such good friends.

  What had surprised Becka was seeing Philip and Krissi standing at the foot of Julie’s bed, staring in awe. The reason was pretty clear. Julie was no longer in bed. In fact she was no longer on the bed. Instead, with her eyes closed in blissful peace, Julie Mitchell was floating above her bed. Not too far above it, only four or five inches. But it was enough.

  Julie’s eyes fluttered and opened, and Becka went cold. Whoever was behind those eyes was not her friend.

  When Julie saw Becka, her face twisted and contorted. Immediately, she fell back down onto the bed. “Youuuu,” Julie hissed.

  But it wasn’t Julie’s voice. It was as twisted and contorted as the face. And as full of hate. “You are not welcome.” Rebecca could feel the waves of hostility press against her.

  She took another breath, trying to calm herself.

  “Becka,” Philip spoke up. He tried his best to sound casual but was doing a lousy imitation of it. “What brings you here?” Ryan stepped forward. “Listen, what you have here, it’s not what it looks like.”

  “Silence!” the voice inside Julie ordered.

  Ryan turned toward his friend. “This … thing … it’s not an angel.”

  “Of course he is!” Krissi squeaked. “He’s teaching us all sorts of cool things so we can band together and help save the — ” Ryan cut her off. “Do you remember all the stuff that happened in the mansion? Remember all those little creatures?”

  “You mean the demons?” Philip asked.

  “Exactly. That’s what we’ve got here. This is no angel. This thing is nothing more than — ”

  “Liar!” Julie hissed.

  “It’s just another demon, but this one is disguised to make you think it’s an angel.”

  Suddenly the bookshelf behind Ryan began to vibrate. Everyone turned and watched as the shaking grew more violent.

  “Maybe it’s an earthquake,” Krissi said hopefully. But she knew it wasn’t. Nothing else in the room moved.

  As the books vibrated forward, Becka stole a glance at Julie.

  The concentration on the girl’s face made it clear that she was the one responsible, that the shaking was an extension of her anger.

  The wind had picked up considerably. Then, one by one, the books began falling to the floor.

  Philip motioned for Ryan to look at Julie’s face. “Don’t you see — look how you’re upsetting her.”

  “That’s right,” Krissi whined. “You’re wrecking it! You’re going to make her mad and ruin everything.” The books continued tumbling out, faster and with more force. The wind increased, causing the curtains to flap and whip noisily. Becka prepared herself. She was about to speak, she was about to step forward and put an end to all of these special effects. Unfortunately, Ryan had other plans.

  He turned and addressed Julie. “Is that all you can do?” His voice was a little high, the way it got when he was nervous, but he did his best to cover it. “Kinda bush league, aren’t you?”

  “Ryan,” Becka warned. “Don’t mess arou — ” Julie’s voice cut her off. “Bush league, am I?” Her lips curled into a sneer.

  Ryan crossed his arms and shrugged. “I’ve seen better.”

  “Ryan … ,” Becka whispered.

  He spoke to Becka, but was loud enough for all to hear. “We don’t have to be afraid of this garbage. We’re Chris tians. We’ve got the authority.”

  “Oh, you are a Chris tian now, are you?” Julie’s voice smirked.

  The tone gave both Ryan and Becka the creeps. But Ryan rose to the challenge. “Yeah … I am.”

  Julie began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Do you honestly think you qualify? In your wildest dreams, do you really believe you are good enough to be a follower of the Christ?”

  Ryan threw a look at Becka and shifted his weight. “Well, yeah … sure.”

  “Perhaps you should tell that to the Johnson children.”

  “Who?”

  “You remember the Johnsons. It was their dog you ran over on New Year’s Eve.”

  Ryan glanced to Becka. “It … it was an accident.”

  “Is that why you never told anyone? Is that why you didn’t even try to find the owner?”

  “He was — he was already dead, I-I didn’t know who he belonged to. I — ”

  “Just like you didn’t know you were shoplifting that car stereo last spring?”

  Ryan looked like he’d been punched in the gut. “It-it was a dare. Just a — ”

  “Or just like you could have passed geometry last year without those cheat sheets?”

  “Ryan?” Krissi asked in surprise. “You cheated your way through geometry?”

  His eyes darted to his friends; he was breathing faster, trying to catch his breath. “Not all the time, I, uh …”

  “Yes, Ryan Riordan, you are a fine example of a Chris tian.

  Just ask Nancy Haldermen.”

  The color drained from Ryan’s face. “Wh-what … ?”

  “Sweet Nancy, in the backseat of your car. You remember.” Philip looked to Ryan in disdain. “You and Nancy Haldermen?”

  Ryan took a half-step back and turned to Becka. His eyes were wide, like the eyes of an animal trapped in a car’s headlight.

  His voice trembled.
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  “Beck, it was a long time ago … I … I …” He stumbled back into the desk and half-fell, half-sat beside the computer.

  Becka looked on, stunned. Part of her wanted to help Ryan, but part of her was repelled at what she was hearing. Was this the real Ryan Riordan?

  The voice persisted, bearing down with glee, going in for the kill. “Yes, everything is ‘I’ in your life, isn’t it? ‘I’ this, ‘I’ that.

  The truth is, you are arrogant and self-centered to the core. Ryan Riordan, Mr. Popularity. Ryan Riordan, everybody’s friend …

  but it’s all a lie, isn’t it? Just a sham. Just a way to use people to get what you want.”

  “Please …” His voice was weaker.

  “Just like your parents’ divorce!”

  Ryan gasped. “That wasn’t my — ”

  “Of course it wasn’t. At least that’s what they tell you. But we know better, don’t we? We know it was your constant demands.

  I, I, I! It was your fault, not theirs. You are the one. It is you who pushed them over the edge! You are the one who drove them apart, you are the one who destroyed your family!”

  “No! It’s …” Ryan’s voice was small, helpless. “It’s not …”

  “Of course it is! You’re no Chris tian! You’ll never be a Christian. You’re not good enough!”

  The thing began to laugh. It was loud and hysterical, filling the room, so shrill that the computer monitor beside Ryan resonated until it suddenly exploded, sending glass flying in all directions. Krissi screamed. The wind howled through the room. The giant bookcase creaked forward.

  “Look out!” Philip cried. He pushed Krissi aside just as it crashed to the floor, missing her by inches, scattering books everywhere.

  She began screaming hysterically.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Philip shouted. He grabbed Krissi and raced for the door. “Come on, let’s go! Let’s get out of here!”

  “You are no Chris tian!” the thing shrieked. “You’re not good enough. You destroy everything you touch, even those you claim to love!”

  “Stop it!” Becka shouted over the wind, pulling her eyes from Ryan’s tormented face. “Stop it this instant!” The thing ignored her. It tilted Julie’s head back and laughed louder than ever, sounding less and less human, more and more like an animal.

  “Ryan,” Becka spun back to him, but he sat, his head in his hands, defeated. “Ryan!” Becka was in his face, shouting over the voice that still laughed and raged at Ryan. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

  Suddenly the bulbs around the vanity mirror began to explode, each one showering the room with hot, broken glass.

  “Ryan!”

  The laughter increased.

  Becka grabbed his arm. “Ryan! We’ve got to go!” He nodded almost numbly and allowed her to help him to his feet. Suddenly the mirror exploded, firing thousands of razor-sharp splinters at them. Becka covered her face as they stumbled across the books, the broken glass, the splintered wood.

  They reached the door, but the wind’s force held it shut.

  The laughter increased as they struggled and pulled. Now the window exploded. Inward. Glass flew everywhere. Becka ducked, and she and Ryan continued fighting the door until finally they managed to pry it open an inch, then a foot.

  They squeezed through, Becka first, then Ryan. Once they were on the other side, the door slammed shut with a powerful force.

  Becka looked down the hall. “Philip? Krissi?” she called, then she turned to Ryan. “Where’d they go?”

  He just stared at her. “Beck … I’m sorry.” The words caught in his throat as he fought back the tears. “Some of that stuff — it happened so long ago.”

  “It’s okay. Look, we’ve got to go back in and — ”

  “No, it’s not okay!” He sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “I can’t go back in there. I’m too … Beck, I’m too dirty. That thing was right. I’m no Chris tian.”

  “Ryan, that’s all the past.”

  He shook his head. “No. Who do I think I am, anyway? I’m not good enough. Don’t you see? Didn’t you hear what she was saying? I’m a hypocrite. A fraud.”

  “No, that’s the whole point. We’re all failures — one way or another. Don’t you remember what Dr. Woods said? Jesus died to take our punishment for messing up. That’s the whole point. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. None of us is good enough.”

  “I can’t do this.”

  “Listen to me.”

  “I — ”

  “Listen to me!” Her intensity surprised them both. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done! If you’re sorry and you’ve asked Jesus to forgive you, it’s over! Forgotten.”

  “But — ” There was a loud crash behind the door, followed by hellish laughter.

  “Ryan, Julie needs us! We’re God’s hands, remember? We’re his feet. If we don’t help Julie, who will?”

  “But you heard what she said.”

  “It’s just like at the mansion, when the demon came after me, making me feel guilty. The only power it had was the power I gave it because I forgot my ‘helmet of salvation.’ Just like you forgot yours in there.”

  Ryan looked at her, not understanding.

  “You forgot you’re saved. That thing inside Julie was playing a mind game with you.” Becka could see the lights slowly coming on. “None of that stuff matters anymore. You’re forgiven.

  Jesus said the past is gone, and it is!” He looked at her, slowly catching on. “I can’t believe I didn’t see what it was up to. All I could think about was that I wasn’t good enough.”

  “And you’re not. None of us is. That’s why we had to get saved.”

  He nodded. Another crash came from the room, followed by more maniacal laughter. Ryan met Becka’s gaze, then said, “We have to go back in there, don’t we?”

  Becka nodded. “But we can’t argue with it. We can’t even listen to it. We need to let God do the fighting.” Ryan nodded.

  Becka took another long, deep breath, then reached for the door.

  Chapter 11

  Back at home, Becka’s mom was about to step into the shower.

  It had been a grueling day of job hunting. She was looking forward to letting the warm water work out some of the tension in her neck. But as she opened the shower door, she was suddenly hit with a feeling of uneasiness. She stopped midstep.

  Something was wrong. With Becka.

  “Is any one of you in trouble? He should pray.” The verse hit her as hard as the uneasiness.

  These kinds of feelings didn’t happen often, but over the years, Mom had learned to trust them. She reached in, shut off the water, slipped on her robe, and headed for the bedroom. She found her Bible, held it close to her chest, and began to pace the hallway.

  “Dear Jesus … dear Lord. Protect my baby. Protect Rebecca …”

  She continued pacing, her prayers growing more and more urgent. “Give her the faith, Lord. Whatever she’s going through, give her the faith to get through it.”

  She pushed open Becka’s bedroom door and looked inside. Waves of memories flooded her … memories of God’s faithfulness, of his protection in the past. “Help her, God, don’t let her go through this alone. Be there for her, in Jesus’ name.” She flipped open her Bible to Psalm 91, one of her favorites, and read it out loud: “ ‘He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. You will not fear the terror of night …’ ” Mom leaned against the door frame and gently eased herself down to the floor outside Becka’s room. She continued reading.

  And praying.

  **********

  The wind suddenly let up, and Julie’s door opened easily. Almost too easily. Inside, everything
was dark except for a streetlamp shining through the broken window. What was left of the tat-tered curtains danced and flapped in the breeze, throwing eerie shadows across the room.

  Ryan and Becka quietly slipped in, trying their best to avoid the pieces of broken glass and mirror covering the floor. They peered through the darkness and saw Julie sitting on the bed. Her eyes were closed … until a shard of glass crunched under Ryan’s foot. Immediately her eyes popped open, wide and expectant.

  Becka tried to swallow, but her mouth was bone dry. She cleared her throat, then spoke. “Julie?” No response.

  She tried again. “Julie?”

  The mouth moved mechanically. “Julie is not here.”

  “You’re a liar!” Ryan said, stepping forward.

  Becka reached out and touched him. It was a reminder to stay cool. Turning back to the bed, she repeated, “We want to speak to Julie.”

  The eyes locked onto Becka. “Pity about Philip falling off that ladder.”

  “What?”

  The sneer returned to the mouth. “A smarter person would have asked themselves why it happened just as Krissi entered the hallway.”

  Becka’s surprise turned to anger. “That was you?” Now it was Ryan’s turn to reach out and touch her. “Watch it,” he whispered, “it’s baiting you.”

  Becka looked at him, then nodded. He was right. She’d almost fallen for it again. Help us, Lord, she prayed, then turned back to Julie. “We demand to speak to Julie.”

  “I told you, Julie is not — ”

  “By the power and authority of Jesus Christ — ” Becka’s voice grew stronger — “we demand to speak to Julie.” Immediately Julie’s eyes rolled up into her head, her eyelids twitching and fluttering. A moment later, her eyes rolled back down — and Becka and Ryan could tell it was Julie. She looked lost and confused, like she’d been wakened from a dream. She searched the room until she spotted Rebecca.

  “Beck …” Her voice was husky and frail. “Becka help me, you’ve got to — ” Suddenly her body jerked and her stare went blank.

  “Julie,” Becka cried. “Julie!”

  The sneer returned.

  Now it was Ryan’s turn. “In the name of Jesus Christ, we order you to leave Julie’s body. Now.”