by Ann M. Noser
Through my tears, I hear a hissing from under the couch.
Not again. If I have to do this myself, I will.
Ignoring the snake’s bile-yellow eyes, I read aloud from the Bible. The holy book shivers in my grasp while I recite passages to banish demons.
The windows creak and the shades flutter.
A great snake, perhaps the largest one yet, slides across the room toward me.
Once it reaches my Magic Circle, it raises its head up to the ceiling and towers over me.
The Bible falls from my grasp.
“Our Father, who art in Heaven… Holy Mary, Mother of… Where there is darkness, let me bring light…” mumbled bits of prayers fall from my lips.
My mind breaks into little pieces, and I can’t put any of them back together.
The shower drips.
The bathroom cup spins. The refrigerator shudders.
Curtains flail.
The snake flicks its tongue.
Furniture whirls around the room.
“Nothing shall enter the Circle!”
I stand on shaky legs, arms outstretched, to recite the exorcism chant.
“I cast you out, unclean spirit, along with every Satanic power of the enemy, every specter from Hell, and all your fell companions…”
Everything pauses for a moment. The furniture halts mid-air.
The curtains cease their fluttering movements and hang still.
The room seems to hold its breath before releasing a puff of air.
Silence. For only a moment.
Everything comes flying toward the Magic Circle, with an ear-piercing shriek.
The snake’s giant mouth opens wide, aiming straight for my head.
Black smoke spills out from under the couch.
My notebook flutters helplessly in this spirit wind.
The floor shakes below me.
A swarm of black moths swirls around my head, catching in my hair.
A sharp pain slices into my neck.
I’m dead. Or I’m dying. And I’m not sure which is worse.
hat’s that nasty smell? Why’s it so dark in here?
Something’s on top of me―what is it? Weak sunlight filters through the shades as my eyes focus. There’s a huge crow on my chest, black eyes glassy as marbles.
I scream and shove the stiff bird away. The dead body thumps to the floor, its tongue hanging out of a gaping beak.
Ugh. I’ve got to get that rotten thing out of here. I dash to the kitchen for a plastic garbage bag. When I return, the crow has disappeared. What the Hell? Where is it?
Even the smell is gone.
I yank aside the shades and crank open the windows, disrupting the black moths hovering there. The sun hangs low on the horizon. How long was I passed out? After making a thorough search for the missing bird in my apartment, I head into the bathroom. As I remove the rosaries, I realize that they don’t prickle my skin any longer.
I stare at the quiet sink. Then turn to examine the shower.
No blood.
No voices.
I dig out another water bottle filled with holy water and gulp it down.
No pain.
“I’m free! I did it!” After a happy dance, I change clothes and go for a walk down by the river. The sky fills with the sounds of rustling grasses, croaking frogs, and distant traffic. The night is so peaceful. My bruises don’t hurt much anymore. Soon I won’t even need these stifling turtlenecks.
The ring of the cell phone interrupts my quiet, self-congratulatory reverie.
“Emma, where’ve you been?” Walker asks. “I left you three messages.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t check them.”
“I want you to work Steve’s spell tonight. It’s a full moon. Are you ready?”
My chest fills with dark, cold fear. I almost drop the phone.
“Emma? Are you still there?”
I can barely breathe, much less talk. “Yeah,” I finally mumble.
“Well, can you do it?” He sounds impatient.
I shift the phone to the other ear. “Walker, I’m not so sure about this.”
“I know these spells are getting scary for you, but this one’s important.”
“I know.” But I don’t need any more trouble.
“It’s the last time. I swear.” I visualize Walker crossing his heart.
“Give me a minute.” I focus on the moonlight sparkling on the water. I need to decide right away, but it’s like I’ve split into two people, each one fighting with the other. This time, neither of them is from the spirit world. They’re both just me: Brave Emma and Cowardly Emma.
I wish I could tell Walker the truth, but those words are trapped down deep inside.
I really don’t know if I can handle any more of this.
But it’s only one more. And now I know how to get rid of any unwelcome visitors: a simple exorcism—or maybe not so simple.
I sigh. “All right, Walker. I’ll do it.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.” He hangs up.
I sink to my knees. Oh, God, I’m so afraid.
As the full moon rises, Walker drives us to the site of Steve’s murder. He parks his truck a discreet distance away. He jumps out, but I linger inside, heart sinking to my knees.
“Come on, let’s go.” He carries the bent metal rod in his hands, the one that was used to kill Steve almost a year ago.
“Okay.” My shoulders slump.
The truck door creaks as I get out. We travel the rest of the dirt road on foot, the beams from our flashlights bouncing ahead of us. My flashlight illuminates the tree branded with the menacing Smiley Face symbol. Chills shake my body, even though the air temps are in the eighties.
No matter what happens, this is the right thing to do. I owe Steve this much.
My hands tremble as I line the road leading up to the desecrated tree with candles and incense bowls. I light the white petition crosses first, then the red and black cats. Last of all, I hold the lit match to the black-winged devil holding court under the branded tree.
Just before I reach the wick of the devil candle, it lights itself.
Then its wax eye winks at me.
I flinch, dropping the lit match to the ground. Tears spring to my eyes as I snuff the flames out with my shoe. I’m caught in a trap I built myself.
“Are you ready yet?” Walker asks, tapping his hands on his jeans.
“Almost.” My voice wavers. “You can position the weapon now.”
He places the rod in the middle of the dirt road. I fill Grandma’s wooden bowl with river water and set it at my feet. When I open the Book of Shadows to find my spell, the night wind whispers words I can’t understand.
What are they saying? I can’t quite hear them. Are they talking to me?
I shake my head to help gain focus. Instead my mind fills with images.
Steve sitting at a desk, wearing a blue oxford and tie, barking orders at someone unseen.
Sam talking to an old woman.
Mike kneeling in a church.
Bernard playing catch with two young kids.
Jake dancing with a long-haired blonde.
I stiffen.
Who’s that girl? Why’s he dancing with her?
“Emma!” Walker waves his hand in front of my face. “Hello in there. Can you focus, please?”
“Yes.” I swallow my fear and uncertainty.
“Okay, then.” Walker backs up to the edge of the road.
Hands quivering, I begin, trying to perform everything exactly as before. I don’t want any surprises.
“I call upon the elements of Air…”
I light the incense bowls. The flames take hold and dance with the shadows.
“Earth…”
Soft thuds echo in my ears as I drop river pebbles along the dirt road.
“Water…”
Leaves rustle overhead as I place Grandma’s wooden bowl at the base of the tree.
“And Fire… Watch over
me.”
Grandma’s bowl glows yellow-orange. Delicate carvings of flowers, flames, wind, and water dance and swirl together. It’s beautiful, mesmerizing.
Funny, that didn’t happen last time.
“Guard me. Guide me. Protect me during these my Rites.”
Candlelight illuminates Walker’s profile. He doesn’t look the least bit scared, but I’m terrified. I step back and hold the Book of Shadows high in my hands. By now I know the words by heart:
“Reveal to me
The treachery.
Expose the crime
From back in time.
Bring forth, bring down,
Let truth be found.
Draw back the veil
That hides the tale.
Make known the fear
That once lived here.”
Lightning crashes. The earth shakes. I stumble when the ground rocks beneath my feet. Just as I catch my balance, a beat-up van’s headlights blind me.
“Get out of the way!” Walker yells.
But I can’t move. I remain rooted in place until Walker drags me into the shadows of the nearest shrubbery.
“Not Grandma’s bowl!” I protest. “I have to save it!”
“Be quiet and lay low,” he whispers in my ear.
I shudder and watch my worst nightmare unfold anew. I hate that I have to see this again.
The familiar van backs up to the river. Young men pile out, all wearing black bandanas and green plaid flannel shirts. They haul Steve out of the back of the van. His body slumps as they force him to the edge of the river. They pummel him with their fists and kick his crumpled form to the ground.
Tears race down my cheeks. I dread what will happen next.
“I’ve got to get closer. Stay here. I don’t think they can see you, but hide anyway.” Walker whispers. He crawls through the underbrush toward the river.
I flinch every time Steve cries out.
The tallest man doesn’t touch him. He stands off to the side, staring out across the river. He’s turned away and I can’t see his face.
When I can’t take any more, the shortest of the men smashes the bent metal rod down on Steve’s head. He shudders a few times, then remains still. Just like the first time I worked this spell, the group dumps Steve’s limp body into the river, spray-paints the Smiley Face on the tree, and piles back into the van.
Only two men remain on the path.
The tall man gazing over the river is slow to leave. His face comes into view as he approaches the van, mumbling to himself with a mouthful of crooked teeth.
My pulse races. I knew Eva Garcia’s murderer had something to do with Steve’s death.
Once he disappears into the van, only the shortest man is left, still clenching the bent metal rod in his hands. The others call for him, but he remains motionless.
He looks young and scared. His dark eyes focus on the rod for a long time before he lifts his gaze-to mine. He stares right at me, unsmiling. I can’t breathe. Should I run? Can he really see me? Is this real or another hallucination?
Steve’s murderer approaches as the van peels away in the opposite direction.
He edges closer.
And closer.
I hunch down in the bushes. But he reaches in and yanks me to my feet. My legs quiver and my heart explodes in pain. My chest feels like a vacuum sucking in everything around me. My head snaps back and I gasp for air, arms flailing like an injured bird. Grabbing the nearest tree, I struggle to stand. When the world finally comes back into focus, the last gang member has disappeared.
I wheel around, searching for him. Where did he go?
“Emma!” Walker snaps his fingers in my face. “You’re a million miles away. Come on, let’s go. I’ll drop you off quick before I head down to the station. I need to run through the file again, pronto. Okay? I was right about my hunch. I just have to prove it.”
“Oh… yeah. Fine.” The noise of a million insects buzzes in my ears.
I rush around to collect all my supplies, relieved to find Grandma’s bowl intact and undamaged. Then I scamper behind Walker’s quick strides to the car.
As he drives, Walker taps impatient fingers on the steering wheel. “Thanks, Emma. You’re the best.”
“Then you got what you needed?” I hold my breath, silently praying he won’t ask me to do this again.
“Yeah. I think so,” Walker says. “At least I can identify all their faces now.”
“The guy who killed Eva was there.” My throat tightens shut.
His eyes widen. “The guy with the crooked teeth? The one called Shadow?”
I nod, unable to speak again. There’s so much to say, but some unseen force stops me from telling Walker any more. I barely got out what I did.
“Why didn’t you point him out? I never saw him.”
I clear my throat a long time before I’m able to mutter, “Good question.”
Minutes later, he parks in front of my apartment building.
“I’ll keep you posted.” Walker turns to me as I step out of the car. “Thanks again. You know how important this is to Steve—and to me.”
“I’m glad I could help.” But never ask me to do this again. It’s too dangerous.
I watch him drive away, dreading what comes next, because I know the spirits won’t leave me alone after I called on them. And there were so many of them this time.
“Were you guys out on a date?” a grating voice asks from behind. Phoebe stands on the sidewalk, a bag of groceries in her hand.
“I told you,” I growl. “We’re not dating.”
“Then why are you always together?” she asks, one hand on hip.
I sigh. “It’s late, Phoebe. Good night.”
I trudge up the stairs to my apartment, my legs weakening with every step. I unlock the door and stagger inside, as if drunk or drugged, or both at the same time. The apartment floor begins to teeter and the hallway fills with a black smoke.
The room temperature plummets.
An unseen force drags me into the bathroom, then lifts me, shoving me toward the mirror.
Silver hands reach out from the glass and pull me into another time and place.
wake in an unfamiliar bed, in the middle of a nightmare that’s not my own. A green and black flannel shirt hangs over the bedpost by my extra-large man-sized feet, which stick out past a flimsy blanket.
I killed him. I crushed that guy’s skull. With that metal rod.
Don’t worry. They dumped him into the river. No one will find him.
No one has to know. Except the Cobras. I only did what they asked. I had to do it. And that guy doesn’t matter.
Nothing matters except now I’m a King Cobra at last.
“Hey, wake up, loser.” My sister waltzes in the room and punches me in the arm. “Rise and shine, Butt Head.”
Pulling the covers over my head doesn’t stop Carmen. It never does.
“Where’ve you been the last few days, Dominic?” She pops her gum. “You weren’t at home. Or school. And you don’t have a job.”
“Leave me alone,” I grumble from under the sheets.
She sighs with exaggeration. “No can do. It’s time for school.”
I see the dead man’s face. I hear him crying out in pain. I ended that pain by ending his life. Bile rises up the back of my throat. I’m going to be sick.
I cover my head with the pillow. “Leave me alone.”
I can still feel the metal rod in my hands.
Carmen punches me again. “No can do.” She smells like cinnamon.
“Stop it! Why are you always on my case?”
“Can’t handle a punch from a girl? Aren’t you supposed to be all tough now, with all your new friends?”
I sit up. “Why do you hate them so much?”
She frowns. “They’re no good for you. Why do you want to be one of them?”
I need them for protection. How come Carmen doesn’t get this? “Be careful,” I warn. “The King Cobras are danger
ous.” And now… so am I.
“Then I guess I better watch my back.” Carmen narrows her dark eyes. “I won’t lose you to them. I won’t allow it.”
“What are you gonna do about it?” I snap, yanking on a wrinkled green t-shirt.
“Did anyone ever tell you that green and black aren’t your best colors?” She smacks her gum. “You look terrible. Like death warmed over.”
Big sisters suck.
Waiting with two other King Cobras in the tattoo parlor, I stare at the ground fighting to remain calm. Am I doing the right thing? What if Carmen’s right? Maybe I should get out while I still can.
Shadow peels off bills from a large roll of cash and stuffs them in the tattoo artist’s hands.
“Brand him.” He sneers with crooked teeth. He laughs and slaps me on the back, but when Shadow’s gaze falls upon me, my stomach lurches and flails like a mouse in a trap.
The tattoo still burning on my arm, I follow the others into a run-down building, then down to the basement. Water trickles in the background. The air around us hangs dank and damp. We descend deeper into the underground sewers on metal ladders attached to walls. I glance around, my heart racing. I’ve no idea where I am. I can’t run away now even if I want to.
Shadow glances in my direction. “Your first time to the Inner Sanctum, isn’t it?”
“Y—yes” my voice cracks.
He coughs, his crooked teeth leering close to my face, and slaps me on my sore arm.
I wince, both at the pain and the smell of his breath. It’s like he swallowed Death.
“Like your tattoo?” he asks.
I nod, not daring to say any more.
“Good. Now you belong to us.” His cackling makes my skin grow cold.
Finally we reach a large open sewer. I flinch at the smell, but hide my disgust. Tall black candles line both walls, leading up to a large stone altar. The ceiling arches far above us, dripping with moisture.
I step on something soft. I pause and pick up a limp black cat.
What’s a dead cat doing here? With a shudder, I discover the body of a crow next to the cat. Bile threatens to come forth once again. My head spins and my stomach convulses.
I shouldn’t be here.
Shadow grabs my tattooed arm, sending pain up to my shoulder. I drop the cat. It makes a soft thud on the floor.