Devil Kickers

by Daniel Marc Chant

  Sarah was transfixed. This man who reeked of booze and had not been lucid the entire journey was now focused and coherent.

  “They've seen some awful things already in their young lives, and yet they still keep fighting the good fight. Why? Because they have a bond. A bond between them that even devils cannot break, and let me tell you, some have tried.” Rhodes coughed briefly, and then a smile crossed his lips.

  “It frustrates them. The demons I mean. I know it does. No matter what evils they threaten those brothers with, they just keep on coming. Unfazed and full of piss and vinegar. God bless them.”

  Sarah smiled, realising how much this priest loved his wards, cared for them like a real father would. Then the smile faded from Rhodes’ lips and he fixed her once more with a serious gaze.

  “They need you, Sister, and you need them. To do this work, to face off with the hellions, it takes a lot of courage and even more trust. I know all about your background, and your credentials, and I know you're just the person they need right now, but you have to make sure that they know that. Once you have their trust, they will keep you safe. They are the bulletproof vest that you'll need when Hell is trying to shoot you in the heart, and mark my words… it will.”

  Sarah was speechless, and Father Rhodes released her hand and patted her on the knee.

  “Basically, be good to them and they will be good to you. That’s what I'm trying to say, are you understanding me, Sister?” Rhodes’ eyelids drooped slightly.

  Sarah nodded and began to stand as Rhodes relaxed back in his wheelchair. She thought he was finished, when suddenly he blurted out from behind closed eyes:

  “Oh, and there’s one more thing you should know. Christopher and Peter… they are good lads, but be prepared—”

  “Prepared for what, Father?” Sarah asked, leaning back in to hear his final words of wisdom.

  “They are also complete fucking idiots,” he said, before his head drooped to his chest and he drifted off to sleep.

  Sarah snapped back to the present, his final words still ringing in her ears.

  The car was almost at its final destination, so she checked the contents of her large black bag once more. She was certain she had everything she needed. She had checked, triple checked a kept checking every so often, just in case something that she needed decided to cease to exist. So far, nothing disastrous had happened, but who knew what the day would bring. She was about to face off against pure unadulterated evil in a battle for an innocent girl’s soul.

  It wasn’t something you could really prepare for.

  The weight of the situation at hand dawned on her, and she sighed again. Although she would never admit it to herself, and indeed forced the feeling to the very back of her mind where it could not be acknowledged, but as she gripped the rosary beads even tighter, Sister Sarah O'Sullivan was afraid

  ***

  The Idol brothers silently pondered what they were going to do, how they were going to get started without a member of the clergy present to help them.

  “Well, I'm sure Sister Sarah will be here any moment. We had quite a journey ourselves,” Pete said. “A little bit thirsty, if I’m being honest.”

  Ben suddenly sprang into life.

  “Would you like a drink?” he said.

  “That would be smashing,” Pete replied, with a bright smile. “Me and Chris are positively parched after our road-trip.”

  Chris knew what his brother was doing. Wasting time, hoping Sister Sarah showed up before they finished their drinks. It was smart. Very smart.

  “Yeah. A cup of tea would be great thanks,” Chris added.

  Ben smiled and walked off in the direction of the kitchen, followed by Petra. The brothers made to follow, before Jim cut them off.

  “Shouldn't you…” He pointed to the ceiling.

  Pete looked up, knowing full well that Jim wanted them to start the exorcism immediately. “Oh, she's not going anywhere. Besides, we don't want to get started without a genuine member of the church with us.”

  “But aren't you...?” Jim started, but Pete and his Chris had already marched past him.

  When they entered the large, open-plan kitchen, Petra was pulling down a tin of biscuits from a nearby cupboard. It was one of the only things within that cupboard not marked up with someone’s name. She popped the tin on the large wooden table at the centre of the room and opened it with a metallic clang. Pete’s eyes widened when he looked inside.

  “You've got Hob Nobs. Awesome!” he cheerfully exclaimed, taking a handful.

  “If you're not members of the church,” Jim asked, arms folded, “what are you?”

  Pete was too busy munching on a biscuit to reply, so Chris had to respond.

  “Exorcisms are dangerous things. Very dangerous. People have been hurt and even killed during them. We work alongside the church and provide them some much needed support in dealing with these cases. Our job is to make sure that everyone involved lives to see another day.”

  “Apart from the demons, of course,” Pete added, accidentally spitting crumbs of Hob Nob as he did so. “We give them a good slap and send them straight back to Hell.”

  The students stood silent, and Chris rolled his eyes at his brother.

  “How do you do that?” Petra asked inquisitively.

  “Budgies,” Pete replied.

  “What?”

  “We have devised several methods to help us rid the host of a demon, and suffice to say that we—”

  “Have you ever lost someone?” Jim asked.

  “How do you mean?” Chris replied.

  “Has anyone died during one of your cases?”

  Chris gave the students a firm and confident stare.

  “No. Never. That’s why they called us. We're the best there is at what we do. I promise you, your friend Claire Marie is in safe hands. Soon we'll have her back to her normal self and you can all go back to arguing over who drank the last of the milk in no time.”

  Ben gave Jim a playful nudge.

  “Hear that, Jim. You and Claire will be able to go back to your deep and meaningful midnight talks again,” he said quietly, but not so quiet that everyone couldn't hear.

  “Fuck off,' Jim replied, blushing.

  “Leave him alone, Ben,” Petra said. She turned back at the brothers. “Thank you for coming. We just want to be sure that Claire will be safe.”

  “There’s no need to thank us. We're professionals. This is what we do for a living,” Chris said.

  The statement seemed to hang in the air for too long, the enormity and depressing nature of it washing over everyone. Thankfully the kettle clicked off loudly and Ben snapped back into action.

  “How do you take your tea?” he asked.

  “Milk and one, please,” Pete replied..

  “None for me, thanks,” Chris said, and Ben went about making a brew for everyone except him.

  Suddenly, the sound of an approaching vehicle at the front of the house got the group’s attention. Chris clapped his hands together enthusiastically.

  “That must be Sister Sarah. We'll just go and greet her and then we can get this party started,” he said.

  Pete grabbed his tea, said his thanks, and followed his brother into the hallway. “She was supposed to be here before we arrived. We're supposed to look like a united, professional unit. She’d better have a decent excuse,” Chris mumbled.

  “I know. It's bloody disgraceful, isn't it?” Pete added, popping another Hob Nob into his mouth and spilling crumbs all down the front of his jacket.

  They opened the front door and stood on the large stone porch of the house. Pulled up outside was another one of those large black Sedans, its engine humming smoothly.

  “Can’t believe we're going to be working with a nun,” Pete said. “How is that going to work?”

  “I have no idea.” Chris watched the large vehicle.

  “Well at least she's not an old nun, I guess,” Pete said, elbowing his brother slightly. “I don't think I
could have dealt with the sexual tension you two would have had.”

  “Piss off, Pete,” Chris replied, shrugging off his brother’s attempts at riling him further

  “Yeah, I guess you're right. She's a nun after all. How distracting could she be? It's not like we're going to be on the receiving end of a sexual harassment lawsuit, is it?” Pete chuckled.

  Finally, the door to the Sedan opened and Sister Sarah stepped out.

  Both brothers fell completely silent. They had been expecting the pretty but dowdy young lady they had met yesterday to arrive, fully decked out in her habit, nervously shuffling her papers and bags.

  That was not what climbed out of the car.

  The figure that stood in front of them was a vision. Gone were the robes and habit, replaced by a checkered shirt rolled up at the sleeves that covered a white vest; skinny, figure hugging blue jeans and a pair of black Nike running shoes. But it was her hair that did it. Fiery red, short, hot as Hell.

  She shot them a smile.

  Chris slowly turned to his brother. “I am begging you, Pete, with everything I have. Please don't get us sued.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DANGER

  Sarah pulled her large bag from the car and, after a brief word with the driver, turned and walked towards the house. The Sedan drove off, leaving the nun on her own. The Idols were stood like a couple of simpleton statues, watching her struggle, and then Pete jogged forward to take her bags.

  “Let me help you with that, Sister,” he said, flashing her a smile before taking her bag. He was immediately taken by how heavy the bag was, and did his best to make it look like it didn't bother him.

  “Thank you so much,” she replied, before glancing at Chris who looked unimpressed.

  “I am so sorry for being late. We had a nightmare of a journey to get here this morning. Traffic, flat tyres, all sorts. Couldn't even get a phone signal to tell you we were late.”

  “No apology needed, Sister,” Pete said, cheerfully.

  “You made it here in one piece. That’s all that matters,” Chris said, and saw the relief wash over her as she smiled back. He was still going to tell her off later, of course, that was a given, but right now she needed to be positive and focused.

  As the trio walked back to the house, Chris took the opportunity to ask a little bit more about their new accomplice.

  “I hope you don't mind me saying, Sister, but we were expecting you to be decked out in the full religious regalia that comes with your kind of job.”

  “I've got some appropriate accessories in my bag, but wearing this is far more comfortable,” she smiled. “I'm not exactly your standard religious advocate, but as I told you before, I'm more than fully qualified for the task at hand.”

  “Well, I think you look lovely, Sister,” Pete said.

  “Thank you, Peter,” she replied as they pulled the bag over the doorstep and into the house.

  “Okay, we've already met Claire Marie’s housemates, so we'll give you a quick introduction and then we can get started,” Chris said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Sarah replied.

  “Sarah! Thank god you're here!” Petra exclaimed as she appeared from seemingly nowhere and wrapped her arms around Sarah. The nun responded in kind, her gentle smile showing nothing but compassion.

  “Hello, Petra,” Sarah replied. “It's good to see you.”

  Petra turned back to the kitchen and led Sarah in that direction.

  “Come. We have just made tea,” she said.

  Sarah stepped into the kitchen, and the Idol brothers were left in the entrance hallway. They heard the sounds of people being reunited and hushed chatting, and looked at each other, before Chris spoke in a low tone that only his brother could hear.

  “What the fuck is going on?” he said.

  They entered the kitchen, and were met with a group of people sitting around the kitchen table, solemnly talking. Sarah looked up when they walked in and noticed their confused looks.

  “You lot have already met?” Pete asked.

  “Yes. Did I not say? I've been here a couple of times, keeping track on Claire Marie’s condition.”

  Chris sighed as realisation set in.

  “You were part of the investigation team that was sent in,” he said.

  She nodded softly.

  “Yes. I thought I told you. This whole case has developed so quickly that it's made my head spin,” she said, and Chris caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes. In that moment, he didn't see her as a headstrong young religious advocate barging into their affairs, but instead as a trainee who has found herself in deeper than she thought possible. He eased off on his tone and decided to change the subject. He addressed the room.

  “We need to see Claire Marie. Judge the situation for ourselves. That way we'll know how far gone she is.”

  “Gone? What do you mean gone?” Jim said.

  “It's just a figure of speech, Jim,” Pete replied. “Trust us.”

  “Right. Let's begin,” Sarah said. “Danger will be up there already, so we can—”

  Chris lifted his hand to cut her off

  “We know it’s going to be dangerous, Sister, but we can handle it. You stay here and we will update you with our report when we come back.”

  Sarah started to protest, but the brothers had already turned to leave. Suddenly, a figure stepped out of nowhere, directly into their path. They came to an abrupt halt. Pete almost jumped out of his skin.

  “Findus crispy shitnuggets!” he exclaimed, bumping into his brother as he retreated.

  Standing in front of them was a very tall young man, with long, greasy black hair and a wispy goatee. Facial piercings adorned his face, including a nose piercing that made him look like an anaemic bull. He wore large, heavy-looking boots, torn jeans, and a creased t-shirt with the words 'Handspasm' written across it, as if in blood. He was very pale, and at first Pete thought he was wearing make-up. Immediately, Pete recognised the lanky fella as the creepy vision he saw in the window earlier.

  “Who the fuck are you?!” Pete asked.

  The young man said nothing. He looked stoned, his eyes glassy. He was a good couple of inches taller than the brothers. Pete faced the group again.

  “Who the fuck is this?!” he reiterated.

  Sarah stepped forward, a frown on her face. He glanced in the direction of the young man ahead of them.

  “This is Danger,” she said. “Claire Marie's boyfriend.”

  ***

  The Idol brothers were no strangers to being face to face with danger, but never like this. The tall, lanky figure that stood in front of them like a statue remained silent, and his eyes seemed to be looking elsewhere. Pete leaned over to his brother.

  “This dude is completely shitfaced,” he whispered.

  “Yep,” Chris replied, the faint scent of marijuana lingering in the air, clearly emanating from the young man in front of them.

  “So how does someone get a first name like Danger?” Pete asked. “Isn't that usually a middle name?”

  “What?” Danger said. His voice was low and deep and the word came out of his mouth painfully slowly, as if he was waking up as he said it.

  Sarah stepped up behind the brothers and leant in. “His actual name is Stephano Tibbs, but everyone here calls him Danger. He plays bass guitar for… who is it again?”

  “Handspasm.” Danger replied, tapping the logo emblazoned on his shirt.

  “Oh yes. Handspasm. They're a local death metal band.”

  “Doom metal,” Danger corrected, his eyes momentarily sparking into life.

  “Pardon?”

  “We're a doom metal band.”

  “Oh, I'm sorry. Is there a difference?” Sarah asked.

  Danger’s eyes intensified and locked onto Sister Sarah.

  “Yes.” he said.

  There was a moment of uncomfortable silence which Sarah shrugged off easily. “How is Claire doing today? Is she okay?”

  Danger paused,
seemingly struggling for a response Then his eyes went vacant once more, and he looked at the three people in front of him with cold, bloodshot eyes.

  “She wants to speak with you,” he said.

  “Me?” Sarah replied.

  Danger looked down at all three again.

  “All three of you,” he said, and turned on his heels toward the stairs.

  Chris looked over at the nun-in-training next to him, noticed her surprised look.

  “What’s the matter, Sister?” he said. “Didn't you want to come with us?”

  “Yes, yes of course,” Sarah replied, a tone of concern in her voice. “It's just, I've never actually met Claire Marie.”

  “I'm sorry, what? I thought you said you came here before when this case was initially being investigated,” Pete asked

  “Yes, I came to this house, but I was never in the same room as that poor girl. My role was mostly to document what the other priests witnessed, to converse with the occupants of the house. You know, keep everyone calm. I never met Claire face to face. All I've seen are those photos.”

  She was having stage fright, Chris thought.

  “Why didn't you see her personally?” Pete asked.

  “I wanted to, but the investigation team wouldn't allow it. Said that it was more important for me to be a calming influence on the household,” Sarah replied.

  Pete looked annoyed. Not at the young woman in front of him, but at the poor management of the powers-that-be.

  “And now they've thrown you in the deep end when things get down to the nitty gritty,” Pete said, with a tone of annoyance that wasn’t directed at Sarah. He began to mumble under his breath.

  “What a bunch of cu—”

  Chris cut him off and placed a reassuring hand on Sarah’s shoulder. She lifted her eyes, and he smiled back at her. For a moment, he was taken by how striking she was.

  “Don't worry, Sister, whatever is in that room right now isn't Claire Marie. It’s just something we're going to suss out, then kick back to the pit it crawled out from. Anyway, it can’t be any worse than the journey you had getting here this morning. At least this you can do something about,” he said