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The Sensitives

Page 9

by Wood, Rick


  It focussed its eyes on Oscar and grinned a wide, sickening grin.

  For the first time Oscar was absolutely, unequivocally sure that he was not in the presence of something human – but of something completely and entirely evil.

  25

  There were many bad experiences Nancy expected to have to endure as a mother.

  The pain of watching them leave for the first day at school, for university, for a first date.

  When they get bullied at school or get their heart broken for the first time and they come home to you, crying into your arms.

  Mental health issues. Illnesses. Anxiety.

  All terrible things, but things to be expected.

  But Nancy had never expected this.

  She still questioned herself. Was this the right thing to do? Or was she sanctioning child abuse on her own daughter?

  She had to remind herself.

  She saw her daughter rise off the bed.

  She heard her daughter speak in a voice she couldn’t possibly speak in.

  She felt something in her house that had replaced the loving embrace of Kaylee.

  Such a happy-go-lucky child, full of curiosity and friendliness. The kind of child who would spark a conversation with a stranger for no apparent reason.

  Turned to this.

  A shadow of the girl she was.

  It took everything she had to hold herself back, to keep herself secluded in her husband’s arms. To watch helplessly as her daughter was ripped out of her bed, kicking and screaming, and led to the cold bedroom that had been prepared for her.

  She stood with Henry, watching for as long as she could.

  They tied her down on the bed, fastening her arms and legs. She resisted. Kicking. Screaming. Punching. Nancy didn’t know if that’s what she had expected. She had no idea what she had expected.

  But not this.

  Not witnessing such torture.

  She couldn’t watch. She turned to her husband’s chest and soaked his shirt with her tears. She grew repulsed at the sound of her own weeping. Loud, audible convulsions of tears, crying helplessly.

  Because it’s all she could do.

  Cry.

  It’s all a mother can ever do.

  Just watch as their child wanders alone into the world, hoping that they will return to you. Hoping beyond hope that they know they can.

  She couldn’t watch the exorcism. It was heart-wrenching.

  Though she expected not watching may be just as bad. She’d experienced the noises coming from her room over the past month. The sounds were atrocious. Vile, disgusting, sickening screams, pounding against the walls, destroying their disrupted sleep.

  But it was not her daughter’s voice.

  And she had to remember this.

  It was her body, but it was not her.

  The voice wailing from the jaw that loudly clicked out of place came in multiple pitches. It was low, it was high, it was croaky, it was painful – but none of it was Kaylee. Her voice was not there. Not even a resemblance of it was etched into the triumphant screams of the demon feigning pain in a ploy to play with the family who cared so much for its victim.

  Some prayer was being shouted at her. She tuned it out. They were all words. The Father, the God, the Holy Ghost, all of it was just words.

  If there was a god, then he let this happen to her daughter.

  When she died, when she came face-to-face with this transient being – she would be having a few strong words.

  Where was he?

  The exorcist was calling on him to help, but where was he when the demon took her? Huh?

  Where was he then?

  “Nancy, I think we need to leave them to it,” Henry suggested, obviously deciding her crying was getting too loud. That her emotional state was becoming a burden for others to bear.

  Maybe it was disrupting what the Sensitives were trying to do.

  She didn’t care.

  She would not leave her daughter.

  “Come on, honey, we need to go. We need to leave them to it.”

  “No!” she cried out, resisting with all her might.

  “Nancy, we can’t help them like this.” Henry turned to Julian, taking hold of his wife. “We’ll be just outside, okay?”

  He held his arms tightly around her, but she rooted her feet to the floor like two dead weights.

  “I can’t…” she wept.

  “We have to. Come on.” He lifted her chin so her red, wet eyes could see his. “We will sit on the stairs outside. We’ll be right there if she needs us. Come on.”

  She knew it made sense.

  She stole a glance over her shoulder at her daughter.

  She wailed in pain.

  It wailed in pain.

  Or in masochistic joy.

  She couldn’t bear to decide.

  Feeling resolute, she allowed her husband to drag her out of the room, placing her on the top step.

  She flung her arms around him and squeezed with all her might, holding on and not letting go.

  26

  Watching Oscar made April think back to her first exorcism.

  Despite being fifteen when Julian took her in, she was at least seventeen before she had truly begun to master her gift. Julian had still refused to take her to an exorcism until she was eighteen.

  This had really annoyed her. How was it she was old enough to be used as a conduit, and to be exposed to this morbid, malevolent life – but she wasn’t old enough to witness an exorcism?

  She remembered Julian’s words clearly: “A conduit is someone who lends their body to the occult. A possessed victim is a person who has had their body stolen. You are not ready to see such lack of control.”

  April had seen many, many things in her life. From her sleeping bag she had watched women get harassed, men fight, and had even been pissed on by an aggressive drunk. How was it she had been exposed to such evil but wasn’t deemed a capable enough witness to the removal of a demon from its victim?

  She had thought it was ridiculous.

  Then she witnessed her first exorcism.

  And she understood the reasons in a way one never can until they experience the thing itself. She’d known little about Julian’s experience of being an exorcist. She only knew vaguely of Anna, the girl he had sadly lost a few years before.

  But seeing the things she saw… Hearing the things she heard… It was traumatic. But, far worse than the things she saw or heard were the personal taunts. The way each demon seemed to know every little thing about her life, and how it could use that knowledge against her.

  What’s worse, the demon’s verbal tirade was normally bizarrely perceptive and full of painful truths.

  She had since become immune. She’d managed to thicken her skin to it.

  But now, watching Oscar, she recognised the look of abject fear and paralysing confusion painted across his face. The look that showed he hated having to do this but felt compelled to by some moral duty. He couldn’t argue with it, couldn’t deny his true calling – but hated having to listen to what the demon said.

  He struggled to endure it in exactly the way April struggled to watch it.

  And now, she could see Oscar’s struggle to endure. And she could see the demon picking up on its advantage over him perfectly.

  “Hey, you,” it’s wicked, deep voice croaked out of the face of a scared little girl. “Yeah, the scrawny one stood at the back who hasn’t got a clue what he’s doing.”

  Oscar glanced nervously at April, who held her hand out in a calm, reassuring manner. Some attempt to keep him cool, keep him undeterred. They couldn’t let him react to it. A demon feeds off negative energy.

  “You want to fuck me, don’t you?” the demon taunted.

  “What?” Oscar replied, a face full of horror.

  “Oscar, don’t,” April instructed him.

  The room was chaos. The window had smashed to bits and fragments of glass were dancing in a tornado of objects. The bed the girl was restra
ined upon rattled, bashing and banging against the floor and the wall. Its laughter never stopped. Despite how much Julian shouted and screamed his prayers its quiet, subdued laughter still stood out above the noise with an uncomfortable prominence.

  “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, we demand you, demon Lilith, leave this girl!” Julian repeated his demands repeatedly until they became white noise. They didn’t seem to be doing a damn thing.

  “No, no, no,” the demon sang in a mocking, sinister voice. “It’s not me you want to fuck, is it? It’s her!”

  The demon’s eyes shot to April, whose stare consequently turned to Oscar. She saw his face full of awkward distress, evidently desperate not to let such information be divulged.

  “Every time she touches you, every time she looks at you, you get some big fucking hard-on, don’t you?”

  “Shut up!” Oscar shouted.

  “No, Oscar!” April demanded, moving in front of him, blocking his view of the wretched demon, gripping his shoulders. “You can’t react, you will only fuel it. Endure it.”

  “You like how she’s touching you now, don’t you? Touch his dick, I bet it’s like a rock.”

  She could see the question written over Oscar’s face – how were such words coming from a nine-year-old girl?

  She had to let him suffer it. She couldn’t allow him to react. He had to learn. If he was going to do this, he had to grow a thick skin to the abuse.

  Only he wasn’t a particularly confident, thick-skinned person.

  “I bet you don’t even like her. You’re just lonely and pathetic.”

  She saw Oscar’s eyes peering at the demon over her shoulder. Squinting, glaring, full of rage.

  “You don’t have a chance. You are a fucking nerd with a small dick and no life. You may as well just die.”

  “Oscar, look at me,” she urged him, unsuccessfully. “Don’t look at it, look at me.”

  “You don’t have a gift,” the demon persisted.

  “Oscar, look at me,” she pleaded.

  “Your life is nothing, and you may as well not live it.”

  She could see him deciding that the demon was telling the truth.

  She could see it winning.

  His face was consumed with terror as the realisation dawned upon him that this demon was right.

  But the demon wasn’t right.

  She needed to do something.

  “You pathetic, scrawny little maggot. She hates you. Everyone does.”

  Tears glistened in the corner of his eyes.

  Without thinking or comprehending what she was doing, she grabbed the side of his cheeks and pulled his face into hers. She planted a soft but firm kiss upon his lips, lingering for a few seconds, then pulling away, looking him deep in the eyes.

  His eyes widened toward her, his open jaw shaking. He looked gleefully apprehensive yet elatedly confused.

  “Now stop listening to it, and help us,” she demanded.

  “Guys, I need your help,” Julian announced, urging them closer with the wave of his arm.

  Oscar nodded firmly at April.

  Together, they stepped toward the end of the bed, ready to do what they could.

  27

  The handcuffs shattered into pieces.

  The ankle restraints flew off with ease.

  The girl rose from the bed, the demon forcing her to helplessly levitate.

  Oscar pushed down upon Kaylee’s ankles with what little strength he had. Despite her being such a little girl, it felt like he was pushing against a brick wall.

  He could see April across from him struggling to hold down Kaylee’s arms. At least it wasn’t just him who couldn’t pin her down.

  The girl’s body lingered in the air, her crotch raised up as her arms and legs dangled beneath her like spaghetti.

  Oscar gave up trying to hold her down. Not only was he competing with her immense weight, but also with the chaos of the room. The loose furniture bustled, vibrating across the floor. The window smashed in, sending tiny fragments of glass bustling in circles. The floor shook, unsteadying his shaking legs.

  “Mother of God!” cried out Julian, “of blessed Michael the Archangel, of the blessed apostles Peter and Paul and all the saints.”

  “Give me your fucking worst,” the demon insisted, tormenting Julian with its resistance.

  Oscar was impressed with how little Julian allowed this thing to faze him. Oscar’s whole body convulsed with shakes of fear, flinching every time this thing spoke or settled its sickening eyes upon him. He doubted his eyes, in disbelief of what he saw, but did not doubt his nose nor the temperature; he was repulsed at the foul smell of the room and shivering from the cold. Still, Julian stood defiantly. Throughout the entire ordeal, Julian wore a disobedient snarl that he did not let up.

  It was the face of experience.

  “Come on, you cunt, is that it?”

  “With the holy authority of God, we confidently undertake to repulse the attacks and deceits of the devil.”

  “I love the deceits of the devil!”

  Oscar and April were flung to the floor, like an invisible cannon ball had fired into their bellies, forcing them onto their backs. Oscar slammed into the far wall and April knocked into a nearby lamp.

  Groaning in pain, Oscar looked over at April and saw her struggling to get up. Her hand gently dabbed a throbbing red bump on her forehead.

  Oscar tried to get up and help her but found himself pushed into the wall once more, pinned down and forced to watch April as she clattered into a wardrobe door.

  She did not get up.

  Julian grabbed his cross, clutching it tightly, gripping it, holding it toward the demon. This seemed to help, like it was a barrier that stopped him being thrown across the room like the other two, as he was only made to stumble backward a few steps.

  Oscar watched with a mixture of astonishment and horror as the girl continued to rise until she was easily six feet off the ground, hanging helplessly.

  “God arises, his enemies are scattered!” Julian persisted.

  “I know you, Julian Barth.”

  Kaylee’s deformed, mangled face locked eyes with Julian.

  “You know who I am?”

  “Smoke is driven away, as wax melts before the fire!”

  “You know what I do to men when they sleep?”

  “The wicked perish at the presence of God.”

  “Hey – how’s Anna?”

  If the reminder of this girl’s death upset Julian, he didn’t show it. He swiftly produced a small bottle with a cross engraved on it. Unscrewing it as quickly as he could, he splashed it over the floating body. Hisses of burning tinged the girl’s skin, causing a wave of smoke to waft upwards. The demon plummeted back to the bumpy mattress.

  “Anna says that you were the one who deserved to die.”

  This was a perfect time for Julian to go all-out attack, to continue his barrage of prayers and flicking his holy water.

  But he didn’t.

  Julian had faltered. Frozen in stupefied trepidation.

  His face looked locked onto what the demon had just said.

  This Anna girl had affected him deeply.

  But he was experienced.

  He had to have enough resolve to deal with it.

  With an aggressive snarl, he put bad thoughts to the back of his mind and stood strong.

  But it was too late.

  The demon had already taken advantage of the momentary lapse in concentration.

  It dove off the bed, launched itself toward the shattered window and smashed through it, crushing the remaining pieces of glass to pieces like it was powdery ash.

  Julian rushed to the window, April following. Oscar abruptly got to his feet and joined them just in time to see the faint shadow of a girl disappear into the trees.

  “Where is she going?” April asked.

  Both she and Oscar watched Julian, cautiously expectant. They could not let her get away.

  �
��The lake,” Julian replied. “There’s a lake through those trees.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Julian sprinted out of the room, thudding past Kaylee’s parents and down the stairs.

  “What do we do?” Oscar asked helplessly to April.

  “Whatever we can,” she retorted, following Julian out of the door.

  Oscar cast his eyes over the now-vacant chaos of the room, torn strips of wallpaper ripped to shreds, shards of glass ingrained in the carpet, and ripped, bloody bedsheets glistening in the moonlight.

  Forcing himself forward, he charged to the door of the room and followed the steps of the others.

  28

  It took every muscle and every ounce of energy Oscar had to keep up with the heavy rustles of April’s feet treading on damp leaves. He could see her faint shadow between the trees ahead, most likely following Julian’s faint shadow.

  His stomach rumbled, pushing a swig of sick to his mouth.

  But he needed to be strong.

  He willed himself to be strong.

  He spat it out and continued.

  The trees became sparser and sparser until Oscar found himself coming to an opening. Before him was a peaceful lake, dimly lit beneath a generous moon, surrounded by green plants, red flowers, and other natural beauty.

  A few yards down the lake, the water was not so peaceful. He could hear thrashing and shouting and deep-throated, sinister cackles. Oscar instinctively ran in the direction of the voices, stumbling over a loose branch as he lurched himself forward.

  Kaylee’s wounded, demented body lay scantily clad in a wooden boat, taunting the girl’s saviours with greyed hands aggressively grabbing her crotch.

  “I want to fuck!” she cried.

  Julian stood in this boat, towering over the girl’s body. The body was swaying side to side with bigger and bigger movements, thrashing the small wooden boat against waves of water, bombarding the lake with a violent battering.

  April lurched into the water and waded through. Once she reached the boat, she took a position at the end where Kaylee’s head lay, holding it still. She clutched onto her with all her might, but still the boat swung from side to side, causing Julian to fall to his knees.

 

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