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Invitation To Evil: A Max MacAulay Novel

Page 4

by Sandler L Bryson


  ​Greg’s blue eyes didn’t waver off Max.

  “Whatever you say, chief.”

  ​Max nodded.

  ​“Well, alright then.”

  ​Max turned around so he was again facing Lindsey.

  ​“If you don’t mind before we begin and visit your son…Matthew, is it?”

  ​“Mattie,” Lindsey said. “His name is Matthew but we all call him Mattie.”

  ​“Very well,” Max continued. “Before we visit your son Mattie I would like to take a quick tour just to get a feel of the house. See if I can sense anything out of the ordinary.”

  ​“Sure,” Lindsey said.

  ​She glanced at Greg. Max’s statement seemed to have caught her off guard.

  ​Laz stepped closer to Lindsey.

  ​“My friend Max here has been blessed with the gift of being sensitive to spirits. He can also dispel them. By touring the site of an infestation, it helps him to know exactly what caliber of entity or entities (as sometimes there can be more than one) that we are dealing with. This is okay?”

  ​The answer seemed agreeable to Lindsey.

  ​“Yes, of course, Father. Please let me show you the house. Our home is modest, so it won’t take very long.”

  ​She laughed as she turned to lead them from the living room area.

  ​Laz stepped in behind her. Max followed behind the priest passing by the daughter Leslie as he did so.

  ​He turned to Leslie as he went by.

  ​“By the way, good taste in music. Speed of Light was a solid if underrated album.”

  ​Leslie looked up at him.

  ​“YOU like metal?”

  ​Her dark eyes stared up at him.

  ​Max shrugged.

  ​“I dig all music.”

  ​“Which song do you like best?” she asked.

  ​Max could see the hint of a challenge in her eyes. He was being tested.

  ​Max scratched his chin.

  ​“That is a tough question.”

  ​Leslie’s mouth twisted into a smirk. She said something but Max continued speaking before she could interrupt.

  ​“I mean, “Speed of Light” the title track is epic, but man, “Gladiator” is a great song too. Not to mention, “What Price Glory?” Like I said, that is a tough question. I will just say I like the album as a collective whole. Asking me which song off the album I like best is like asking me which ingredient I like best about an ice cream sundae; the chocolate, the ice cream, or the nuts when it’s really all the ingredients together that makes the sundae great.”

  ​Leslie’s smirk turned into an appreciative smile.

  ​“Well, I have no idea what you two were just talking about, but it sounds deep,” Lindsey said.

  ​“Oh nothing,” Max said. “I was just expressing appreciation of your daughter’s choice of metal bands.”

  ​Max gave Leslie a wink

  ​He heard the teenager laugh as he continued forward but behind Laz. Leslie and Greg fell in line bringing up the rear of the group.

  ​ “Well, I wish I could share your aesthetic sensibilities,” Lindsey said.

  ​Max laughed.

  ​Behind him, he heard Greg grunt in what sounded like derision. Max ignored him.

  ​“Sorry about the distraction,” Max said. “If you will kindly continue with the tour.”

  ​“Sure,” Lindsey said.

  ​She led them out of the living room with its pink and white sectional sofa and glass coffee table through the rest of the home. As Lindsey had stated, the home was modest but Max noticed the single-story house was well kept and quaint. The floors were all hardwood except for the kitchen composed of white and black checkered tile. The living room flowed through a hallway and into the kitchen. The kitchen was basic and nothing spectacular. Max noticed a large portrait of Jesus surrounded by angels rested on the left wall of the hallway. Down the hallway was a guest bathroom on the right.

  The hallway ended in a T. The room at the end of the hall or juncture of the “T” was Leslie’s bedroom. From what Max could see, it was a typical teenage girl’s room. The bed was half-heartedly made and posters of various metal bands (the two most prominent posters being one of Hirax and another of Sound Barrier) adorned the walls along with photos of Leslie and her friends. The room beside Leslie’s had the door shut.

  “This is—” Lindsay stopped speaking as she started to cry. She took a deep breath to calm herself then continued. “This is Mattie’s room.”

  She pointed at the door.

  “My son is in there but we keep the closed because of how he has been during all this.”

  “That is okay,” Max said. “If you don’t mind, let’s finish up the rest of the house. We can see that room last when we go in to meet Mattie.”

  Lindsey nodded her agreement.

  Max’s reasons for suggesting the course of action were two-fold. First, it didn’t make sense to enter the room twice, once to visit and the second time to treat the victim. Second, Max wanted to finish touring the rest of the house to see if he sensed any spirits. The ability to sense spirits was a gift he had discovered in childhood. He had honed the gift over the years (namely in adulthood). He had mastered his power to where he could tell the exact nature and other finite details about the spirits he encountered.

  His aunt Jacinta had been instrumental in teaching Max how to refine and harness his powers. While she did not possess Max’s level of magical prowess, Jacinta or Aunt J as he called her, was talented in her own right. She was a skilled practitioner of the esoteric arts and was especially good at crafting and enchanting items. In fact, she was the person who had given Max the amulet he always wore around his neck pressed against his skin. The amulet was a silver chain with an oval pendant. The small oval bore the Adrinka image of Akoben, “the war horn.” It was a West African symbol that represented vigilance and wariness.

  His Aunt claimed that she had purchased the chain while she was in Ghana. She’d told Max she had imbued the trinket with mystical properties. These mystical properties allowed Max to sense when danger was present and afforded him a bit of luck. Max was not certain of the latter claim but he recalled several situations where he had escaped harm by the skin of his teeth. The former claim Max knew was true. Whenever danger was present, the amulet tingled like a vibrating cellphone against his chest as a warning that harm was near.

  The necklace had proven valuable to Max in his investigations more times than he could count. Right now, the amulet was not detecting any threats. Max’s own senses weren’t detecting any foreign spirits in the house either. This was not abnormal. The amulet only detected when there was a near and immediate hazard, such as when he was about to be attacked or some misfortune was directly about to befall him. As for his spirit sense, Max knew that while his sense was heightened, it was not uncommon for an entity to hide to try and avoid detection. This didn’t worry Max. If this house was being plagued by an evil spirit, Max knew he would find it eventually. Max was sure of this. He had not lost a case yet. He didn’t plan on starting today.

  “The master bedroom is this way,” said Lindsey.

  Max and Laz followed Lindsey to the doorway on the left that led to the master bedroom. It was a basic bedroom complete with a full bath. Max scanned the bedroom taking in the king-size bed’s red covers. At the foot of the bed and against the wall was a stand that had a flat-screen TV on top. A VCR/CD player was attached to the television. On top of the CD player was a statue of a cherubic angel. The TV stand along with the rest of the furniture in the room was white lacquer with faux gold trim. Max noticed a nice camera on a tripod rested in one corner of the room. The camera was not on. Besides the angel statue, a good deal of religious iconography adorned the room. A black cross with a silver Jesus crucified to hit hung above the bed. On the dresser was a small statue of Jesus with his hands open in a “come to me” gesture. Rosary beads rested around the statue.

  ​“I am ashamed to say we are no
t actually that religious,” Lindsey said.

  ​She cast an apologetic look to Father Lazaro.

  ​“It’s just with everything that has been going on having religious symbols around helps to make us feel more secure if nothing else.”

  ​Laz gave a comforting smile

  ​“It is often through adversity that we find our faith growing stronger,” Laz patted Lindsey’s shoulder. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  Max knew the statement was true. He knew Laz’s own personal battles and why he had chosen the path of the clergy. Max also knew that simply putting up religious iconography rather than driving out a spirit haunting a place could have the opposite effect. If the spirit was evil or anti-religious the items could enrage the spirit, making it become even more combative. Out of respect, Max kept his thoughts to himself.

  “I am not detecting anything thus far,” Max said. “But it is early yet. Please let’s continue.”

  Max held out his hands in a chivalric gesture for Lindsey to continue leading them.

  “Sure,” She said.

  She flashed him a smile as she walked by. Max noted the smile caused Greg’s face to redden. Max followed behind Lindsey.

  The group was standing in the hallway. Max noticed a ceiling door a few feet behind him. A drawstring was hanging from the door.

  “Does that lead up to the attic?” Max asked, pointing at the door.

  Lindsey looked up.

  Yes, it does,” she said.

  “Do you mind if I have a quick look up there?”

  Greg and Lindsey exchanged glances. Greg spoke first.

  “In the attic. Really?”

  “Max is correct,” Laz said. The priest moved to stand beside Greg. He looked up at the attic door.

  “An evil spirit is often like any other pests, like a cockroach. They scurry and try to hide when you try to remove them from your home. It is very possible the spirit could be trying to hide up there in the dark. It can’t hurt for my colleague to look.”

  Max watched as Greg and Lindsey glanced at each other again.

  Finally, Lindsey shrugged.

  “Sure, go ahead if you think it best,” she said.

  Max thanked her. He reached up and drew the attic door down. A blast of cold air filled the room. Max shivered but was not concerned. Cold air coming from an unheated attic during the winter months was perfectly normal. His amulet was also not detecting any hint of danger.

  Greg pulled down the folding ladder attached to the attic door.

  “There you go, Sherlock. Up-up and away.”

  Max ignored the comment. He took hold of the ladder and climbed up. Max’s head crested the entrance to the attic. Besides being dark, it was cold enough that Max felt the chill of the room even through his jacket.

  “Do you need or a light or something?” Lindsey asked.

  “I got one,” Max replied. “But thanks for asking.”

  Max pulled out his mobile phone. His wallpaper, the box cover for the arcade edition of Spyhunter, cast a glow in the room. Max unlocked his screen then turned on his phone’s flashlight. From his vantage point, Max could see boxes and bits of old furniture. The floor of the attic was all wood, but he saw no pest or rodents. His main concern was spiders. He hated (i.e., feared) spiders with a passion. Max noted cobwebs but no spiders.

  “Okay. I am going in,” he called down to Laz.

  The priest gave a thumbs-up sign. Max climbed into the room.

  Out of view of everyone, Max took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and drew within himself to channel his power. He could feel energy within him. He slowly let out his breath and opened his eyes. Max looked around the room. The feeling he got when channeling to detect spirits was surreal. He was fully conscious and aware of his surroundings but the awareness was intensified but detached at the same time. Colors became clearer. The temperature in the room he felt through every fiber of his being. Yet somehow, he was separate from all it. The only way Max knew how to describe the channeling was like watching something on a high definition television only with feel and smell included, not just sight and sound.

  Max peered slowly around the room, letting his eyes settle on every nook and cranny. His amulet remained still, but that did not mean there was a not a spirit present. Maybe the spirit was present but was not intent on harming him right now because it was scared. This would sometimes happen when a spirit was not evil per se but stubbornly refused to move on to the next stage. Given what the family claimed this spirit had subjected them to, the entity seemed evil. If the spirit was in the room, Max figured he should detect it, but his ghost radar as he jokingly called it was coming up blank.

  Okay, looks like we are all clear up here, Max thought. He walked carefully around the room just to be certain. He did not detect anything.

  “Okay. There’s nothing up here. I am coming down,” Max called.

  Max turned to leave. He must have brushed against one of the boxes. A small crash followed by a jingling noise sounded behind him. Max turned quickly. His heart pounding as he held the up the flashlight on his phone. A cardboard box was behind him. The top of the box was open. Max could see what looked like a plastic holly wreath and other Christmas ornaments inside. A gold-colored Christmas ball lay on the floor.

  Max picked up the ball and started to put it in the box. His hands stopped when he saw the glowing blue eyes staring at him from beneath the holly reef. Max jumped back, nearly dropping the ball. His right hand warmed as he started to call forth the energy of his soul blast. He took a deep breath as he prepared to face the creature hiding in the box. Max knocked aside the Christmas ball and pushed back the holly reef with his left hand. A slight purple glow surrounded his right. As Max removed the reef, he stared into the face of a porcelain doll.

  The doll had bright blue eyes with straight blonde hair and brown eyebrows. The doll’s skin was snow-white with rose-colored cheeks. Some of the paint on the doll’s face had faded, leaving flaky dark spots on its head. The figure was wearing a bright pink dress. Like the paint, the dress was also worn in areas and covered in dust. Max was not an expert on dolls, but the toy looked to be old. From what time period Max didn’t know. He just found it odd that a doll potentially worth something would be discarded in the attic underneath a bunch of Christmas ornaments.

  The violet glow around his hand subsided. Max felt stupid for being scared. If there was a threat, his amulet would have picked it up.

  “This no way to treat a lady is it?” Max said.

  The doll didn’t answer. Max picked up the figure and examined it. Besides the old clothing, he noticed nothing exceptional about the doll. Max shrugged. He started to put the doll back when he noticed something else inside the box.

  It was a VHS cassette in a white case. The case had a name Cindy written on it in a black marker along with a date that Max could not make out because the ink had become smudged. Max slid the VHS out of the case. The tape was blank, showing no name or title on it. Max noticed there were other tapes in the box too. Max didn’t count them, but if he had to guess, he would estimate there were about ten to fifteen tapes in the box. All were blank and in cases with writing on them. Some of these he could make it. One of them read Leslie/Christmas. Another one read Mattie: 1st B-Day Celebration. Yet another one read Uncle Bruce’s Beach House-Fam Vac. In all there were about a dozen tapes and CDs all seemingly labeled for various family outings and holidays except for the one labeled Cindy.

  Max heard Laz calling him.

  “Yo! Max! Está todo bien allí?”

  “Yeah, I am coming down right,” Max called back. “Just tripped over something is all.”

  Max hurriedly stuffed the items back in the box and closed it. Satisfied, he climbed back down the ladder.

  “Glad you made it back down. I was starting to get worried,” Laz said.

  He helped Max grab the folding ladder and shut the attic entrance.

  “See anything interesting up there?” Greg asked.
<
br />   Max didn’t look at the man but looked at his wife Lindsey as he responded.

  “Not really. We can continue,” Max lied.

  The living room was the last room remaining in the house besides Mattie’s bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was a fairly mundane affair. There was a maroon-colored couch and a Lazy Boy the same color. A wooden coffee table rested in the middle of the room with various car magazines on it. There was also an end table with a lamp and Bible on it. A large screen TV was mounted on the wall. The only things of note in the room were that again religious icons had been placed randomly in the room (a cross rested on the end table beside the Bible and a smiling picture of Jesus was mounted on the back wall opposite the television). Max also noted there was another camera affixed to a tripod in the left-hand corner of the room.

  “You guys are really into video equipment, huh?” Max said. “Are one of you in film school or taking a film studies class or something?”

  Max had asked the question in general but looked at Leslie. Matthew was too young to be taking a film class and besides her brother, she was the youngest and Max figured the person most likely to be pursuing such an interest. The answer, however, came from Greg.

  “What the hell does what we film have to do with spirits?” Greg spat. “In fact, if you’re supposed to be this big hot shot psychic, why can’t you tell us what we use the cameras for?”

  Max saw Lindsey cast a quick glance at her husband. If her eyes could shoot lasers, Max was certain that Greg would have a hole in his head. As it was, Max was becoming more perturbed with the man himself. He turned so he was looking directly at Greg.

  “Well, first, cameras can play an important role in paranormal investigations. Many times ghostly images not seen by the naked eye will show up on film or video types. That is why I asked about the cameras. Secondly, I am not a psychic. I am not here to read some Tarot cards and tell you that whatever dark time you’re going through will pass and all will be okay. I am here because your family called me. They called me because your son is going through some traumatic event, an event that is thus far beyond your ability to understand, let alone deal with.”

 

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