Victoria chiseled out a few hours of shut-eye after our return from the sleeping neighborhood. Her mind busied and soon woke her from her slumber, but she’s been relatively silent in contemplation of the events to come. She stayed home from school today missing the educational field trip to further our plans and last night’s efforts. It wasn’t very hard to get her parents to allow her to miss school with the passing of Lusa earlier this week. Vic is genuinely, deeply distraught over what happened to Lusa, but her determination to get back at Johnny and the others now equals — if not surpasses — her pain from the loss, and today we’re going to take the time to work out how to collect on her contract.
For hours, after Vic’s parents left for the day, we discussed, plotted, and repeatedly found ourselves coming back to Vic being at the mercy of the Sinful Seven. We have our opportunity waiting today, but working the details to collect without Vic being suspect in any way was eluding us completely. We needed a break.
This afternoon, after Victoria started getting a bit of a headache from all the deliberating, we went for a walk to get some fresh air and find a little distraction, if not inspiration, in the clouds and blue skies. It was during this walk opportunity reared its head up and we were there to take advantage of it.
About an hour or so before school was to let out, we found ourselves across the street from a small bar. Just then a particularly inebriated gentleman everyone knew as the local drunk came stumbling out of the establishment. We couldn’t help but notice he had thoroughly pissed himself. He made a direct zigzag for his car and proceeded to clumsily fumble his way into it. By the time he had situated himself into the seat and gotten the correct key into the ignition Victoria was standing outside his door and I was in the passenger seat next to him.
Of the many things I’ve learned from the various demons of Hell, one of the most useful is how much more susceptible to suggestion the mortal mind is when it’s saturated with alcohol or other mind-altering substances. It’s perhaps the most useful of tools for making a mortal do something he or she normally would not. A drunk’s mind is a playground we’re very familiar with, and this one was about to get mind fucked!
The drunk turned his head to look at Vic outside his window, that’s when I thrust my hands into his mind and found his deepest waking consciousness, where the alcohol had not yet found its way to. With everything every soul in the Book of the Damned could muster we all yelled at his mind to seek out the school bus the children were returning in. Repeatedly we put this message in his mind for several minutes. Until, finally, I stepped from inside the vehicle and the drunkard went about his way. For the first few moments after he drove away I was almost sure the spirits he consumed were in too great of control, so even if he saw the school bus he probably couldn’t find enough control in his entire body to carry out the command he was given.
There was still just a bit of time left before the bus was to return from the field trip, and I believed it would be best if Vic weren’t out in the open for Johnny and the others to notice. Vic thought otherwise. She wanted to see this happen just like she saw what happened to Lusa. Just the same, I coaxed her back home. Back inside.
We got back to the house only minutes before the bus from the fieldtrip appeared on Victoria’s street. She made mention it was running late from the trip and probably dropping off the other kids at their homes. This made better sense than making them walk since it was the time of year when it got darker sooner. From her front window we couldn’t see who was still on the bus, which was concerning.
Then out of the corners of our eyes we noticed the car with the drunk in it coming down the street in the opposite direction of the bus. At first he moved slowly, seemingly on purpose as the bus gained momentum up the street towards Victoria’s house. Then the drunkard gave the car everything it had and let off the breaks. This was the straightest line anyone could’ve hoped a drunk to drive. He only hit two other cars and three mailboxes as he careened towards the school bus with increasing speed. Just then Victoria looked to the bus and asked in a dull whisper …
“What if there are other kids on the bus?”
I cannot say my concern for this what-if was too great, especially since we were on the edge of feeling useful once again. Logically though, Vic’s house was furthest into the neighborhood, so we'd venture an educated guess that at most the bus driver and the drunk would be collateral casualties.
The car swerved and its front passenger’s side crashed into the front passenger’s side of the bus. The car’s front end wedged in under the bus, and with the momentum the car already had it was enough to cause the bus to rise up and slowly lurch over until its lumbering mass crashed on its side in the ditch by the road.
For a few moments all was quiet and we suddenly began to feel a new sensation coming over us. For so long I have felt the constraint of having this mortal shape available to me but at the same time not being able to go too far from Victoria’s side. Now I found myself being able to move as if a set of weights had been taken from my burdened shoulders. I felt light and even free from the constraint of this gravity. I was able to move away from Vic’s side, pass through the front wall of the house, which in and of itself was normal for me, but then traverse the lightest breeze from the front of the house and across the road, to where the bus had come to rest. I had never been able to move this far from Victoria, and was thrilled when I turned my gaze back towards her and saw her and all her innocence standing in the front window of her home. But, just short of the bus I found the new extent of my freedom and was able to go no further.
I heard the doors on the bus rattle and shake as small pair of hands were trying to squeeze through and force the doors open. Finally the doors gave and from the smoking yellow mass emerged Johnny; badly hurt with tears in his eyes. He was gripping his chest tightly and gasping for air as he noticed Victoria standing in the window across the way. Clearly he was in great pain, as he did not notice he was standing on top of the bus until he stepped forward and fell face first onto the worn asphalt with a moist thud. Slowly he made his way back to his feet, sobbing and now bleeding from his nose and mouth. With every step he took I could feel my barrier once again moving further out and away from Victoria. Finally I climbed atop the bus, I peaked in to see the damage, and how many had been involved. To my amazement, other than the bus driver the only other people on the bus were Johnny and his six thigh-drippings.
The bus driver was unconscious with a nasty split on his scalp, but the children were not so fortunate. Broken necks, among a number of other broken bones for several of them, a couple more had their insides crushed and their now collapsed lungs had suffocated them in the time it took me to reach the bus. One of the girls, Colleen, had obviously been out of her seat at the time of impact. Her face was for the most part embedded in the windshield while the rest of her lay atop the bus driver, she was still breathing, though very shallow. I placed my hand on the front of her decorticated face and glimpsed into her recent memory. They had all convinced the driver they were to be meeting their friend, Victoria, at her house to cheer her up. The bus driver was going to drop them there so they could visit Victoria. But their intentions were far from those of concerned friends. They had every intention of coming here to begin collecting on the terms of the contract they had signed yesterday. Then Colleen went blank as her throat gurgled blood and her last breath left her body, and again I could feel my tether lengthen. That’s when I realized the restraint I had felt while being around Victoria was contingent on her first collection; maybe every collection, and this roundup was already greater than the first collection of any demon I’ve ever served, but because the book’s form never shifted to another form we were always within reach of the demon to whom we were in service.
Now there was only one left to collect and I didn’t want to miss witnessing the little bastard’s demise. None of the souls of the previous six had departed from their earthly bodies yet, which meant since all seven had signed the same cont
ract all seven had to perish before the souls would become Victoria’s to lay claim upon. Such a horrible thought that should Johnny survive this, the other six souls will be witness to everything that happens to their dead vessel after their carcasses are recovered. The autopsies, the cold slabs in a dark morgue, being naked in front of a stranger as the mortician dresses their bodies for their funeral, and finally being locked inside a casket, or cremated, and stuck with the deteriorating remains of their Earthly flesh until the last of the Sinful Seven dies.
As I poked my head out of the bus I noticed Victoria’s stare suddenly dart in my direction. The expression on her face changed from stern and fretting for this moment to finally arrive, to watching Johnny slowly get closer and closer to her in his somewhat mangled condition. Johnny had almost reached Victoria’s front window where she was standing transfixed over everything she was witnessing. Johnny was struggling to breathe as he obviously wanted so badly to get the words help me to pass his lips more audibly than just a labored whisper. He was grasping at his chest as he finally began to truly panic and started tearing his shirt away from his chest as if it would somehow help to let air into his lungs. From behind I could not see what Victoria was looking at until he finally fell and rolled onto his back. Someone in the bus had landed feet first on Johnny’s chest and caused several ribs to fracture and puncture the little bastard’s lungs. This injury was to the extent that his death ended up the most torturous death of these seven children. Many of his ribs had fractured so violently they were protruding out of his tender, young flesh and blood was flowing from his mouth and nose as if a faucet within him had been turned on all the way. In moments his skin went pale, and his body still, and I found myself wrapped in a wonderful cloak of freedom from the successful consummation of Victoria’s first contract. Not as if un-tethered entirely, but so much more freedom than we've known in thousands of years.
I leapt from within the bus wreckage and stood upon the heap with a feeling of confidence and liberty I had not felt previously while in servitude to any Devil prior. Vic could see me giddy, gleeful, and prancing about the bus crash like a child with a new toy. I dare say that a proud cock singing out his morning cock-a-doodle-do would have run off in a fit of impotent squawks at the sight of me standing so tall and proud. But, alas, this joy was to be very short lived …
By Vic’s expression, she wasn’t feeling as good about all of this as we were. The look on her face was one of complete disbelief and horror over what she had just witnessed; what she had instigated. After a few moments the souls of the seven children began to rise from their battered and broken bodies and I knew immediately the incredible mistake which had just been made. Each of these seven souls was as golden as the day they were created; without a single trace of sin within their coffers to taint their young souls. We had contracted and carried out the collection of seven very young and unsoiled souls.
It was only their minds and adolescence under the influence of their parents’ words and moods which had left all of them believing it was all right to do the things they had always done. They were not yet old enough to realize or think with the individuality needed to understand what they were doing was wrong. They were only abiding by their young and immature instincts and characters, and we exacted vengeance upon them for such. It’s no wonder I was unable to smell sin on them when they approached us and killed Lusa. We should have gone after their parents and there was nothing to be done to change that now. These innocents were lost so long as Victoria holds the contract.
I watched the souls gather outside the front window; it was obvious she was able to see them as clearly as anything else. Since taking possession of the book Vic’s eyes were now adjusted to see that which mortals typically cannot. It all started hitting her about the time we heard the police and fire engines sirens blaring in the distance, and she burst into tears and bolted for her bedroom. I went to comfort her and noticed along the way, when I passed through the crowd of the seven tiny souls, that on Earth, as it is in Hell, I am only visible to the one I serve; the Sinful Seven had no idea I was present. I should probably stop calling them the Sinful Seven …
When I entered Vic’s room I quickly hid within the dimness of the shadows and spoke quietly to not alarm her.
“Young one…” I whispered gently, “You have just seen something I don’t believe any mortal was ever supposed to see.”
“What are you, Azeeza?”
“The answer to that question is a terribly long and tormenting story, young one.”
“I don’t care, Azeeza! I want to know what I just did to Johnny and the others!” The tears were welling in her eyes and then flowing down her sweet, young cheeks and we all knew that to tell her of the mistake made would be to compound the mistake a thousand times over. The decision is solidified and there's no going back.
“I think I did something bad this week, Azeeza.” Her voice broke up with the sobbing, but worse than that, I could smell the slight stench of sin in her coffer. Today’s events have gone against at least part of who she is at her core. The Book of the Damned itself has acted as if it were in the place of any Devil previously possessing it.
“I was so angry because of Lusa, and I thought this would help. What happened?! What have I done?!”
Vic’s emotions were reasonable and understandable as her sorrow and confusion were so immense it felt as if they were reaching across the room in an attempt to strangle me, which they may well have been. I can now safely assume it’s a good thing she is unknowing of the physical properties every emotion is capable of.
“It is not within my ability to deny you your request, young one. Are you completely sure you want to know these things?”
I was so thankful my question had gone unanswered due to the sheriff suddenly banging on the front door. I remained in the shadows of her bedroom as she left to face the scene outside. It was a short time later when I peered from her bedroom window and noticed Martha and Tom had arrived, and they were doing their best to console Victoria. They were completely unaware of the seven little souls surrounding them, and in a fashion more tormenting than Victoria had ever thought them to be in life, with the exception of the day she lost Lusa. She simply kept her face buried in her father’s coat and tried her best to ignore the seven while the sheriff, EMT’s and fire fighters went about cleaning up the mess and investigating the scene.
The bus driver and the drunk were hauled off to have their injuries tended to; the drunk had his own escort courtesy of the sheriff’s department. Undoubtedly he deserves what he gets for having decided to drive while impaired. He was going to get his sooner or later anyway.
In a strange sort of way we did get the parents of these seven children after all. For the way they were raising these kids and the damage they were going to cause in their lives, these parents were no better than demons in how they were influencing their own children to act. Still, now having the benefit of hindsight, there was a better option.
Later in the evening, after everything had finally calmed down, Vic asked how to make them leave her sight, to which we responded by presenting the book before her and laid open to the page which answered her question. Vic gave the command and the seven little souls simply evaporated into golden mists and gone from sight entirely. Vic got up to close her window as the air had developed a slight chill. I whispered to her, “What do you believe you will do next, young one?”
“Go away, Azeeza,” was her only response.
Journal entry XX
It is now the summer following Victoria’s eighth year of schooling, and a great deal has changed since the incident at Victoria’s house all those quiet months ago.
Tom had Victoria finish out the school year in that small bible-belt town. This turned out to be okay for Victoria since Johnny and the others were now out of her hair as well as everyone else’s. The whole town seemed lighter without them, in a good way.
The parents of Johnny, Tim, Brent, Cynthia, Beth, Tina and Colleen had pract
ically become recluses since the loss of their children, while their absences had caused Victoria to become one of the most popular and well-liked children in the entire community. Unfortunately Vic’s newfound popularity garnered her attention we didn't expect.
Vic disembarked from her bus as usual on a warm Spring afternoon. Her walks from the bus to the tracks always caused her to pause before crossing; sometimes for just brief moments, other times she'd stand there for minutes at a time remembering. Lusa was always just the other side of the tracks, anxiously awaiting Vic by putting on a show of circus-worthy spins and feisty stances with her ass up in the air and her head down close to the ground peering up to Vic. I swear that dog could smile.
But on this day, when she stopped at the tracks, Johnny’s father stepped out from the bushes on the other side brandishing a gun. Vic could've panicked and ran, but she stood there across the tracks from him, motionless, but not emotionless.
“Your son was a horrible person because of you!”
It was obvious he was about to say something when Vic hit him where it counts with that one. He paused for a moment taken aback from her statement. We strongly suspect he was going to say something very different than what followed, but with those words from her mouth his demeanor became aggressive. I could smell alcohol on him, but he was more sober than drunk. He had been thinking about this for a long time, and obviously only drank just enough to drop his inhibitions. He wanted to make sure he was conscious of what he was doing.
“You little CUNT!” He blurted out angrily, “I know you had something to do with my son’s death. He was in your yard with his blood leaving a trail from the bus. You didn't go on that field trip. You were still angry about your fucking dog! How the fuck did you get the drunk to hit the bus?! TELL ME!!!”
Legacy of Judas - Book One Page 10