by Terri Grimes
“Gertie?”
“Yeah?”
“Get our boy.”
“Will do.”
“And Gertie?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful.”
Putting the walkie-talkie back in my pocket, I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. I had to do this. There was no one else to count on. I had to do.
Don’t be tardy for the party.
Shit. My grandmother’s words were making sense now. I was filled with a new sense of urgency.
“Sam,” I yelled as I ran to the far end of the second floor hallway. When I reached the open attic doorway, I shouted up the dark, eerie steps. “Sam, can you hear me?”
He didn’t—or couldn’t—respond.
“Sam. Use the medallion.” My hand went to my rear pocket, making sure my own Saint Ubaldus medal was still there. If one of us could get the demon close to a wall, we could nail him with the medal, trapping him and sending him to the lower realm he came from. In a perfect world, that is. I was beginning to acknowledge we didn’t live in a perfect world.
I took several deep, cleansing breaths and whispered a prayer as I stared up the stairwell to the darkened attic. “Our Father, who art in Heaven, protect us as we do battle. In your name I pray.” My voice held a slight shake.
The hallway of the second floor was dark enough with all the lights in the house turned off, but at least moonlight billowed into the large Victorian windows, illuminating the hallway, bathing me in its dim light. On the third floor, there was one postage stamp sized window on each end of the attic. It was a virtual pit of darkness up there. A pit I had to enter.
I could hear the muffled sounds of commotion ringing through the attic over the sound of my feet pounding up the narrow wooden stairwell.
Sam wasn’t responding to my screams.
My arms were pumping as I urged my thighs to go faster up the rickety attic steps. I was regretting all those cheeseburgers and late night ice cream raids that lined my thighs as I huffed and puffed my way up.
When I reached the attic landing, I stopped for a moment to catch my winded breath and get my bearings in the pitch-black room. The air was oppressive.
Blinded by darkness, my fingers inched along the wall until I felt the light switch. My sigh of relief turned to horror as I realized the light wasn’t coming on, no matter how much I flipped the lever.
“Damn it!”
I continued toggling the switch with rapid motions, praying the light would—by some great miracle—come on. No such luck. Sounds of objects being thrown continued to reverberate around me as the stench of rotting flesh mixed with an overpowering odor of burning sulfur permeated the thick attic air. I could sense the presence of something dark, evil and pissed off. An overwhelming sense of foreboding washed over me.
Remembering the tiny LED flashlight Sam insisted we use, I pulled it out of my pocket and clicked it on, panning the area around me. The tiny beam of light sliced through the darkness in the large attic.
“Sam, where are you?”
“Over here,” he responded from the farthest edge of the darkened room.
“I can’t see you.” I had to fight to keep the panic out of my voice.
“Gertie, turn the attic light on,” he bellowed, his voice thick with urgency.
“I can’t! The light switch won’t work,” I shouted back.
“Son of a bitch.”
The sound of a deep, whispery chuckle filled the room, reverberating off the walls.
The hair on the back of my neck and arms stood straight up. I knew that laugh.
“Sam.”
“Yeah?”
“That was you, wasn’t it?”
“’Fraid not, sweetie.”
Oh. Shit.
Even though I kept the small flashlight pointed at my feet as I made my way across the cluttered attic floor, I stumbled several times.
My heart beat so fast, I thought it would beat out of my chest. Without warning, there was an ominous thud behind me. I spun around, waving the flashlight as if it could help me see through the inky blackness that filled the room.
It was then that the tiny beam emanating from my microscopic flashlight caught Sam as he crouched on the floor amid the ancient clutter.
“Are you all right?” I gasped with the relief of seeing him.
“I dropped my medallion and can’t find it. Swing that light over here, would you?”
I sighed. If that wasn’t just like a man. Every male I’d ever known depended on a woman to keep track of stuff for them. Underwear, telephone bills, religious medals to trap demons in another dimension, it didn’t matter. It all depended on a woman keeping track of it.
“The light, Gertie, the light.”
“All right already. Patience, Sam. Please.”
I aimed the flashlight at the area of floor around him, the beam bouncing back and forth across the clutter.
“Got it,” Sam cried, lunging behind my Great Grandmom Lossie’s steamer trunk.
“Awesome. Does that mean we can get out of here now?”
His head snapped up so fast I thought he would get whiplash for sure. He turned to stare at me, his astonishment showing in the dim light provided by my flashlight.
“Are you crazy?”
“Whaaaaat?” I could feel my mouth hanging open.
“Gertie, this is what every paranormal investigator dreams about. We live for this shit. It’s interacting with us. Do you understand how huge that is?”
“Do you understand it’s one of the devil’s spawn that you’re playing house up here with?”
“I know, that’s what makes it so fascinating.”
I took a tentative step toward him, intending to tell him he was out of his ever-loving ghost hunting mind, when I heard a shriek of fear. My shriek of fear. The flashlight slipped from my hand, clattering to a rolling stop on the floor as I stood there, paralyzed with terror. In the brief second before I dropped my flashlight I’d seen a shadow, a large shadow, loom from behind Great Grandmom Lossie’s steamer trunk, almost in the same spot where the Saint Ubaldus medallion had resided moments before. At least seven feet high, thick and dark, it oozed evil, the stench of which made my nose wrinkle and my eyes water.
“Holy son of a biscuit.” Sam whistled low. “Damn. You sure don’t see that every day in an investigation.”
I jumped as my walkie-talkie crackled to life and Timmy’s static laced voice filled the space. “Gertie, can you give me a ten-four? Did you find Sam?”
“Timmy, I told you, this is a walkie-talkie, not a CB radio.”
I heard a sigh through the static. “Just give me the ten-four, Gertie. Do you copy?”
I looked at my shaking hands as I depressed the talk button on the side of the walkie-talkie. “Yeah, I found him. And that’s not all I found.”
Sam snatched the hard plastic, forest green box out of my hands, bringing it up to his mouth and speaking into it all in one swift motion.
“Not a good time to chat, my man. We’re going into radio silence.”
And with that, he turned my walkie-talkie off and shoved it into his back pocket opposite his own.
“What did you do that for?” I asked, incredulous.
“We are here to do a job, not chitchat with command central.”
“But… but, what if he needs us? Or, we need him?” My voice quaked.
It was difficult to see Sam’s facial features in the hazy darkness of the attic. But the air of excitement coming from him was unmistakable.
“I don’t think we’ll be needing Timmy’s help right now. Don’t you agree, Gertie? This is what I came here for. This is the mother-lode, baby.” He sounded like a kid in a candy store.
I was speechless. What do you say to a gung-ho paranormal investigator when he’s dealing with ghosts and goblins, or in our case, demons?
“What is your purpose for invading this house?” Sam spoke with authority as he addressed the demon.
The voice that
responded was not a pleasant one. “Fuck off, ghost lover. This is between me and the girl.”
I gulped.
“Leave the girl out of this,” Sam responded.
A soft laugh filled the thick darkness as an object came flying through the air, slamming into the wall next to Sam’s head.
I took that to mean a big fat no.
“I only have business with the girl. Don’t stand in my way, fucktard.”
Every muscle in my body tensed as I pulled the magnetic medallion from my pocket, gripping it tightly with my right hand.
“I don’t have business with perverted, foul-mouthed demons, you nasty Horny Harry,” I spat.
“Horny…Harry?” Sam echoed, dubious.
I held my hands up in submission. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t tag him with that name.”
“Ah, Timmy I presume?”
“You presume correctly.”
The demons voice changed tone, interrupting us. “You wound me, my pet. I thought we had a real connection.” His voice was silky in its pained tone.
“Afraid to deal with a real man?” Sam challenged. “You have to pick on weak, defenseless women to get your kicks?”
Whaaat? Oh no he didn’t!
“Um, dude? Just so we’re clear on this, I’m not weak and I’m not defenseless. You got that?”
I know we were in a horrific situation and facing down a demon. But, if Sam was going to stand there and insult me, damn if we weren’t going to throw down.
“That’s not what I meant, Gertie,” Sam stumbled over his words while keeping his attention focused on the demon.
“Well, it sure sounded like you meant it,” I countered.
I could almost picture that muscle working in the side of his jaw when he got flustered.
“Gertie, now isn’t the best time to deal with semantics, baby doll.”
“We’re going to deal with this sometime, Sam. You got that?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’m sorry, but can we focus on the here and now.”
“Whatever.” Even though I doubted he could see my actions in the inky non-light of the attic, I waved a hand at him dismissively.
The demon turned his back to me, its attention focused on Sam.
As the moon eased from behind the clouds, a slim stream of silvery moonlight snaked a trail though the attic window.
“Sam,” I cried out as I saw the demon bear down on him.
He faced the demon, waving his hands in a flurry of gestures to tell me he’d handle it. Then, with the inhuman entity inches from him, Sam stopped in mid-motion. A smile erupted across his rugged, handsome face. I could see the whiteness of his teeth glinting in the darkness.
Seeing that smile, I knew what he was thinking even before his lips formed the words.
“Spike the bastard.”
My grin answered.
And with that, it was on. Hoo boy, it was a throw down.
Gathering every bit of courage I could muster, I took a deep breath and charged the demon, my Saint Ubaldus medal held high and my battle cry loud. “Bonsai, you potty mouth!”
Through the roar of the demon’s answering battle cry I heard Sam shouting, “Don’t look it in the eyes, Gertie. And don’t let it touch you.”
Too late.
I ran head on into the demon, my magnetized religious medal raised high above my head as I held on to it for dear life with both hands. Then with every bit of strength I had left in me, I jabbed the medallion in the center of the black, soulless void that was Orcas.
“Go to hell, you evil bastard!” My voice was raspy with emotion.
After an ear-piercing shriek emanated from the writhing black mass, I heard a calm, quiet voice whisper in my ear as a inky hand snaked out and grabbed my upper arm.
“You first, my precious.”
Darkness engulfed me and an iciness that threatened to suck all hope and life from the very core of my being washed through me like a tsunami as a wet slurping sound pounded in my ears.
Then the cries of a thousand soulless voices echoed around me as I felt myself falling, falling, falling downward. A thousand feet, a mile, mere inches, I couldn’t tell. I had no conception of time or space.
Then.
All was quiet.
Thirty
I hit the damp ground with a thud. “Owww,” I groaned, rubbing my aching butt. That was going to leave a bruise in the morning.
I turned my head several degrees, trying to determine where I had landed. I was in a dimly lit cave, that much was obvious. The light came from the two naked light bulbs hanging from the ceiling of the cave. They were attached to a crudely fashioned industrial extension cord threaded through several S hooks, amidst the tangled tree roots jutting precariously out of the earthen ceiling. Judging from the faint output, the strength of the bulbs could be no more than twenty-five watts, or perhaps forty watts at best.
Wetness oozed down the slick walls of the cave, their path broken by the occasional root before coming to rest on the dirt covered ground. I stood and wiped the dirt from my jeans, resulting in muddy smears plastered across my sore backside.
Orcas stood nearby, watching me with amusement. He wasn’t wearing his Brad Pitt face anymore. He looked like any thirty to forty year old man one would meet on the street. Dark hair, chiseled jaw, black eyes with glowing red irises. Just your average Joe. With the low wattage bulbs, it was hard to see far in the half darkness of whatever this place was. I was afraid to ask where we were because I think I knew. The over powering aroma of sulfur was a major clue.
“Okay, Gertie,” I whispered. “Time to hike up your big girl panties.”
“I had hoped your big girl panties would be going in another
direction other than upward.”
I chose not to dignify that remark with a comment. But, it was good to know I could count on Orcas to be the same inappropriate horn dog that I knew him to be. Timmy’s tag of Horny Harry was proving to be an accurate one.
“Welcome to our home, my dear.”
Oh shit. There were no doubts anymore. With his greeting, I knew exactly where I was. Nonetheless I gave another glance around my surroundings. There wasn’t much going on. Just an average darkened, slimy, dank cave on the third level of hell. Which, granted, was probably better than being in a fifth level pit of hell.
“What, no flames?” I deadpanned.
Harry chuckled. “We get some decent flames going on the Weber on occasion. You want I should make you a burger?”
I. Would. Not. Giggle.
I giggled.
I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask.
“Is that what Hell is? A demon doing his best Jewish mother routine as he tries to shove grilled burgers in your face?”
He raised a nondescript eyebrow, causing a hair-covered nub to pop out of his forehead. “Want to hear the really scary part?”
What the hell—no pun intended—I was game. I nodded.
His voice was low and eerie. “The burgers?”
I leaned closer.
After a brief pause for effect, he continued, “They’re not kosher. They’re loaded to the max with thick gooey, full-dairy, cheese and slabs of yummy smoked bacon strips.”
I gasped. “The horror.”
“Welcome to Hell, baby.”
We both laughed, the sounds of our amusement echoing off the damp walls of the cave.
Then his face grew solemn while remaining confident. “All joking aside, it’s not so bad down here, Gertie. You’ll come to love it.”
The smile on my face dissolved as it hit me with a sinking realization. This shit was real. I was in a pit of Hell with a third level demon and no way out. It didn’t get much more surreal than that. It would do no good to hope for a plan B, because at this point I didn’t even have a plan A.
I walked around the perimeter of the cave, at a loss of how to escape. I rested my hands on my hips and halted my pacing in front of the demon. “Listen, Orcas, or whatever the hell your name is—”
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“I’m Legion, I have many names, but Orcas will do fine,” he interrupted.
“Yeah, well, you have to realize there is no way in hell I am going to stay down here with you of my own free will.”
He looked wounded.
“Come on, you had to know.”
“A demon could hope?”
I shook my head. “This is one of the lower levels of Hell. There’s supposed to be no hope down here. Remember?”
He scratched his forehead, which was becoming unexplainably scaly. As I waited for his response I saw another hairy little nub pop out above the other eyebrow. And I couldn’t swear to it, but in the dim light it looked like his face was becoming elongated.
He closed the gap between us in two lunging steps. He attempted to caress my cheek, but I stepped backward, out of his reach. It wasn’t that I was squeamish about a demon touching me, although it wasn’t high on my list of fun things. No, it was because the stench of his breath made my eyes water. The odor was so bad it could have made paint peel off walls.
“Stay with me, my precious.”
I could feel negative energy snapping and crackling in the dank air of the cave.
“No way, dude.”
“My dear, I will show you delights you could only imagine.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
He was beginning to get on my nerves with his incessant begging. Hadn’t anyone ever told him it was not attractive to see a demon beg?
“My dear sweetness, I must implore you to stay. We will make a wonderful team, one such as Hell has never seen before or ever will again.”
“No.”
“But, my dear, I simply won’t take no for an answer.” With that, his irises expanded and the entire expanse of his eyes glowed an iridescent red.
Enough. I was at my saturation point. “Fuck you, demon,” I said with the sharpest tone I could muster.
“Would you?”
“Eewww, no,” I shrieked. “That’s just plain nasty. Get out of here. You’re not welcome here.”
“Get out of here? But, my pet, this is my home.” He corrected himself. “No, no, I mean this is our home.”
“Oh no, you had it right the first time, Orcas. This is your home, your own little slice of Hell and I am out of here. Send me back to the land of the living. Now.”