Invitation To Evil: A Max MacAulay Novel

by Sandler L Bryson

  Max stepped closer to Greg. Greg’s eyes, which had been ice before, were arctic volcanoes now. The amulet pressed against Max’s chest tingled slightly. Max didn’t want to fight the man, but he was not afraid either. Max was certain that with his four years of Karate training and his innate powers he could more than handle the jerk if he had to. Rather Max didn’t want to fight Greg out of respect for being in his house (while Greg may have been rude Max had been raised to be courteous). He didn’t want to disrespect someone in their home. Also, if there was an evil spirit present, anger and discord were the types of energy the spirit would feed on and gain strength from. So a confrontation was counterproductive to the situation. Still, Greg’s acerbic comments were also counterproductive. More so, Max was tiring of them. Max’s eyes never left Greg’s as he continued speaking.

  “So you can either work with me or can get out of the way, but this won’t work if you work against me. So, you have a decision to make. Do you want us to stay and help you or do you want us to leave? How do you want it?”

  “Oh! My Lord! Everyone calm down.”

  Lindsey stepped between the two men.

  “You have to forgive my husband, Mr. MacAulay. He is just a little grumpy because he is not used to having a bunch of strangers in the house.”

  She cast a look of exasperation at Greg as she said the last part. Then she turned back to Max.

  “You are right. We got the first camera for my daughter. She was taking a film class in high school and she seemed to really love it. We wanted to support her in a constructive activity, so we bought the camera for her. Then later on, we got a camera for ourselves. I wanted to start videotaping stuff like birthdays and holidays and things we did together as a family, but between work and home chores and other stuff I just never got into filming the way I wanted to.”

  “I understand, Lindsey. Life happens,” Max said.

  “But in order for me to handle whatever is potentially here, we all need to be on the same page. A bunch of disunity or passive-aggressive behavior is not conducive to me doing this investigation. Now, I want to help, but I am going to be straight forward with you. We can all work together or I am afraid I must politely excuse myself.”

  Max looked at Greg.

  “So what’s the deal? Are we cool here?”

  Greg stood statute still as he glared at Max.

  Max heard Linda sigh.

  Greg grunted and then cleared his throat before speaking.

  “Yeah. It’s like my wife said. Just not used to a bunch of strangers in the house.”

  “Okay, then.”

  Max turned to Leslie and smiled.

  “So who’s your favorite director?”

  The inquiry seemed to catch Leslie off guard.

  “Huh?” she asked

  “Director,” Max said. “You love films. Who is your favorite movie director?”

  “I-I’m not really…I don’t really have just one favorite producer. You know it’s like you said about the sundae; there are just so many.”

  Max started to respond.

  A rumble like someone moving furniture behind the right wall stopped him. It was the wall that bordered Matthew’s room.

  “Well then,” Laz said. He stepped beside Max. “Now that we have seen the house, perhaps we should proceed with helping the young man in who is in trouble, no?”

  Max turned to Lindsey. He still didn’t get a warm fuzzy from Greg, but Laz was right. They had come here to help the kid. Max intended to do that despite whatever Greg’s personal issue was.

  “Yes. The Father is correct,” Max said. “Please take me to meet your son Mattie.”

  * * *

  Part IV

  In The Belly

  Lindsey had her hand on the doorknob to Mattie’s room. She started to open it, then turned and looked at Max and Laz.

  “I have to warn y’all. Mattie ain’t been the same since this started.”

  “I understand. Going through an event like this can frighten and change anyone, especially a child,” Max said. “In fact, I think it best if you and Greg wait out here while Father Laz and I see Mattie.”

  Lindsey and Greg exchanged looks. Lindsey looked at Laz for confirmation.

  Jesus! Just because I don’t have a collar does no one trusts me when I speak or what? Max thought.

  Laz nodded in agreement.

  “My friend is correct. Because we don’t know fully what we are dealing with, I usually recommend any family and friends of the afflicted person wait outside.”

  “And why’s that?” Greg asked.

  Laz nodded to acknowledge Greg’s question.

  “Good question. A hostile spirit may become very aggressive when it first encounters those who have come to challenge it. The spirit may seek to hop bodies and possess someone else that is around. You being in close proximity makes that easier so we kindly ask that you wait outside for your own protection.”

  “And because it makes our jobs easier,” Max added.

  Max looked at Greg as he spoke. He knew it was petty, but after all the jabs he had endured since coming to help the family, Max felt a gut-warming tingle of pleasure to at throwing one back.

  Greg grunted in response.

  Lindsey called to Matthew through the closed door.

  “Mattie! Mattie honey! Some people are coming in to see you! They are friends, so don’t be scared, okay.”

  There was no response.

  Lindsey looked up at Max.

  “Please help my son,” she said.

  Max could see she was trying to keep from crying.

  “I will do everything I can to help. You have my word on that,” Max said.

  He glanced at Laz. The priest indicated he was ready.

  Max slowly opened the door. Max entered the bedroom with Laz right behind him.

  The blinds and curtains inside the bedroom were open, but the overcast day brought little light. Instead, it cast a shadow, adding a palpable level of gloom to the room. Max looked around as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. The room looked to be a typical young boy’s.

  Several posters covered walls. In the dim light, Max could see posters of several comic book superheroes. There was also a poster of a man dressed in a black and silver suit flying over downtown Sahalish. It was a poster of Pinnacle the Sentry of Sahalish as the hero was dubbed.

  So what if he can supposedly fly and stop bullets and is strong enough to lift a tank? Let’s see him fight a greater demon with his bare hands, Max thought. The thought did little to assuage his grudging jealously.

  Besides the posters, there was a desk with an Apple computer and a large flat screen monitor. Speakers were set up around the room. In a corner were two neatly stacked columns of white cardboard boxes. The top of one was open. Max could see comic books inside the boxes. The boy had a shelf above his bed, dresser and desk. The shelves held various action figures displayed in meticulous detail. Each shelf seemed to hold a particular set of figures. The shelf above the dresser contained a collection of Masters of The Universe action figures and vehicles. The shelf over the desk Max had military action figures and tanks. Last, the shelf above the bed contained Transformers.

  The bed beneath the shelf had Masters of The Universe themed bed sheets. Max looked over the room again as he reassessed his initial impression. Yes, the room was definitely the room of a young boy but it was beyond typical. Everything was neat and orderly and had an underlying theme to it. Everything was clean. There was not a speck of dust anywhere. It was the room of someone who spent a lot of time paying attention to small details. It was the room of an introvert.

  Max knew from experience introverts often made excellent prey for demonic forces. Before an evil spirit possessed someone, it first tried to oppress them by using such methods as isolating them from their friends and family. The demon would do everything in its power to make their chosen victim’s life miserable and thus more susceptible to the spirit’s suggestions. Introverts often being loners were
already isolated to a degree so it made the demon’s job of oppressing their target easier.

  Laz walked over to the boy resting in the bed.

  “Hello, young man. How are you today?” Laz asked.

  “T-t-t”

  The boy paused and winced as if struggling to spit out words.

  “Tired.” the boy said.

  The boy pulled the covers up around his shoulders as if to shield himself from Laz.

  Max looked at Matthew or “Mattie” as Lindsey said to call him.

  Mattie had pasty skin that looked like he spent hardly any time in the sun. He had sandy-colored hair like his father but the same dark eyes as his mother. Right now, those eyes were filled with equal degrees of apprehension and weariness. The level of both was more than what should have been present in a boy his age.

  Laz gently sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Mattie. I am Father Lazaro. Do you remember me? We met a few days ago?”

  The boy shook his head.

  “Y-y-y-y Ye-es F-f-Father.”

  Besides stuttering, Mattie’s voice cracked as he spoke.

  “Very good, Mattie. Well, this here is my friend Max. He is the special friend I was telling you about. The one that is going to try and help you.”

  Mattie looked over at Max. His dark eyes had a stereotypical deer in the headlights look.

  Max slowly walked over to stand in front of Matthew. He kept enough distance so as not to be intimidating.

  “Hello, buddy. How are you doing?”

  Mattie looked up at him.

  “F-f-f-fine,” Mattie stuttered.

  Max noted the look of fear never left the boy’s eyes.

  “The first thing that I want you to know is that everyone here is trying to help you. No one here wants to you hurt you. You understand that right, Mattie?”

  Mattie shook his head indicating yes.

  Max used his powers to reach out and get a feel of the room and Mattie. Just like everywhere else in the house Max detected nothing. This was a little unusual but not unheard of. An evil spirit possessing someone could for a period of time relinquish control and go deep within the host’s “psyche” (at least that is what Max called it) to hide for a period of time. Yet Max knew he was very good at detecting hidden spirits, even those possessing a body. It was possible the spirit had moved to another location within the house, but while surveying the home, Max had pushed his power so he could surveil as much of the house as possible. Every time he attempted to find this supposed spirit, he was coming up empty. If a spirit was here, it was damn ninja ghost.

  Laz looked up at Max. He had worked with him long enough to know his friend’s routine. After years of working together, he and Laz had devised methods of giving each other signals without speaking.

  Max quickly scratched his neck right below his beard line. It was a symbol for “No”.

  “You really like action figures, huh?” Max asked.

  The question brought a smile to Mattie’s face.

  “Y-Y-Y Ye-yes,” Mattie said.

  “Oh, really?” Max smiled. “Me too. I used to collect Star Wars toys?

  ​Evidently, Max had touched on a subject precious to Mattie. The young boy’s response came in a barrage of words without pause.

  The words came so fast it was hard for Max to keep up.

  ​“Y-y-yeahIcollectthosetwobutIkeepthemlockedawayinmycloset. IhavesomenewfiguresIamgoingtobecollectingsoon! Theyarethesebugpeoplethatlive—”

  The rest of Mattie’s response got lost under the verbal torrent Max had unwittingly unleased.

  “Okay! Okay! My little friend! You are a FAN indeed,” Max said.

  There was a bean bag in a corner of the room. The bean bag was white and showed two comic book heroes battling each other. Besides the bed which Laz was sitting on, Max saw no other chairs.

  “Hey, this is a cool bean bag. May I sit down?” Max asked.

  Still smiling, Mattie said yes. The boy said something else but said it so fast Max couldn’t really understand it. From what he could gather, Mattie was providing him information on all the various figures depicted on the furniture.

  Mattie pulled the bean bag near the bed and gently sit down on it.

  “Okay, Mattie. Thank you for telling me about the toys you like, but there is something else Father Lazaro and I need to ask you about, okay?”

  Mattie stopped smiling. He pulled himself back into his covers but kept his head and face visible.

  “Remember, Mattie, there’s no need to be afraid?” Laz said.

  Max looked at his friend. Laz gestured to continue. Max cleared his throat.

  “Do you know what I want to ask about, Mattie?”

  Mattie shook his head.

  “Th-Th-thebadman.”

  Max and Laz exchanged looks.

  “Batman?” Max shook his head in confusion.

  “N-No-No-Th-the...” Mattie inhaled and took a deep breath.

  “That’s it, Mattie,” Laz said. He patted the boy’s head. “Just slow down. No one is rushing you. Just go slow and tell us what you want to say, slowly.”

  “Th-the bad m-man,” Mattie said.

  He exhaled and took another deep breath, like talking was a major exertion for him.

  Max scratched his beard.

  “Yes. That’s right, Mattie. The Bad Man,” Max said. “We want to talk to you about the Bad Man.”

  ​“Can you tell me about the Bad Man, Mattie?”

  There was a flash as the overhead light in the room flickered. The flickering cast shadows against the walls. Internally, Max continued to reach out and see if he felt anything spirit wise possessing Mattie, but his spirit sense was still coming back with a constant blank.

  Just a bulb going bad, probably, Max’s logical mind said. His primal instinct was telling him otherwise. From the look on Laz’s face he could tell his friend felt the same way. Max briefly shook his head at Laz to tell his friend he was still not detecting anything. Max resumed focusing on Mattie.

  “Ba-Ba-Badma..Badmancomea…”

  ​“It’s okay, buddy.” Max held up his hand. “Just take a deep breath, slow down, and tell me what you are trying to say.”

  Mattie closed his eyes and took two deep breaths before continuing.

  “Ba-Badm-Badman comes at night…mostly.”

  Laz cleared his throat.

  “Mattie, when this Bad Man comes, can you actually see him?” Laz asked.

  Mattie looked at the priest and shook his hand yes. The child was gripping his bedsheets like a life preserver. Max’s heart flared with a mixture of pity and anger. There was pity at having to put the child through these series of questions; anger at whatever entity was afflicting the boy.

  “Very good, Mattie,” Max said. He patted the top of Mattie’s head. “You’re a brave kid and you are doing great. The more you tell us, the more we can help you fight the Bad Man. So, you just keep doing what you doing now and telling us as much as you can. Us toy lovers have to stick together.”

  Max saw Mattie liked the last comment. The boy covered his mouth to hide his smile.

  “Okay, Mr. Max.”

  “Just Max. Mister is for old men and I am not that old yet.”

  “Can you tell us what the Bad Man looks like, Mattie?” Laz asked.

  Max watched was as Mattie’s knuckles turned white he was gripping the sheets so hard. Mattie pressed his lips together but said nothing. The boy seemed to sink deeper into the covers.

  “Remember,” Laz said. “You have no need to be afraid, and the more you tell us, the more we can help you.”

  Mattie remained silent.

  “Does the Bad Man look like a monster?” Max asked.

  Mattie looked over at Max. His eyes were wide with fear despite Laz’s reassurances.

  “Blac-Bla-Black..Eyes…” Mattie said.

  Max and Laz exchanged glances. Beings with black eyes were definitely a sign of something otherworldly and evil. Max just wasn’t sure if the Ma
ttie meant the creature had regular black or dark brown eyes or if the eyes were solid black. Max pushed aside his feelings of regret over making the boy uncomfortable. If he was going to help he needed to know as much as possible.

  “Thank you for telling us,” Max said. “Now, Mattie, another question, when you say the creature had ‘black eyes’ do you mean black like normal eyes like how mine are dark brown or do you mean black like where there are no white parts to them just pure black?”

  Mattie didn’t speak but shook his head for “yes” to the eyes being solid black.

  Okay, well, that answers that, Max thought. This is definitely not good, he thought. Still, he needed to probe further.

  “Mattie, does The Bad Man look like a man?”

  Max watched as Mattie pressed his lips together and closed his eyes.

  Max reached out and gently touched the boy’s head.

  “Don’t be afraid, buddy. Nothing is going to hurt you anymore. I just need to know besides his eyes, does The Bad Man look like a normal person like you and me?”

  Mattie whimpered.

  There was a vibration in the room. Max looked at Laz. The look of shock on his friend’s face confirmed the feeling was real. As if to validate their perceptions, another tremor went through the room momentarily, shaking both Max and Laz. One of the Masters of The Universe action figures above Mattie’s dresser fell. The plastic figure landed with a slight thump on the wood furniture. The toy sword and staff that had been in the figure’s hands went flying to the floor.

  Max felt a tingle against his chest. His amulet felt warm against his skin. Danger was present and it was close. Max looked at Laz and nodded and mouthed a “Yep” letting the priest now something was up.

  Mattie whimpered again.

  “Mattie, there’s no need to cry, little buddy. I am not going to let anything happen to you,” Max reassured the boy.

  “Matthew the Bad Man, does he have a name?”

  There was a bang. The whole house shook.

  “What in the hell?”