by Rick Wood
32
1 January 2000
Adeline sits over the body of her saviour and watches him grow lifeless. Balam has taken him; she is saved, but at his expense. She shakes him and shakes him but he does not move.
Eddie looks down upon her. He sees his body lying motionless. He sees her crying over it. He sees her desperately shaking him. He floats over the body, watching her think he is dead.
He is far from it.
To his left he sees his enemy, floating with him. It has three heads; one a bull, one a man, one a ram. The bull aggressively puffs air out of its nostrils. The ram sneers and the man snarls. Together, they growl, facing Eddie with eyes of pure evil and animalistic faces of angered hostility. Its horns shake and its fists clench, its body scarred with marks of war.
“Balam,” Eddie utters, as if as an ironic greeting. His fists clench and he shakes with power.
“It is you,” announces the man head of the demon before Eddie. “Commander of hell, he who attempts to take his throne.”
“And you’re a king of hell, commanding over forty legions of demons, all of which cower before me. I have grown even stronger since I defeated your slave, Lamashtu. Do you dare take me on?”
Balam opens the mouth of each of its heads and roars toward Eddie, sending him floating back against the wall of the room. He remains planted against it, flattened out, held back by the air of evil.
“Give me my sister!” Eddie commands with all the authority he can force into his voice.
Balam’s fists clench and vibrate, opening and surging red flames toward Eddie. Eddie lifts his hands and the flames lick against them, halting before reaching his body in a devastating blow.
“That the best you got?” Eddie taunts the demon before him.
Balam growls again, this time not to intimidate, but to show his aggressive displeasure at being well-matched. He throws forward more flames.
Eddie lifts his arm and swipes, causing the flames to cease. He throws his arms forward and Balam thwacks against the far wall, dropping to the floor pathetically.
Balam raises its heads and looks to Eddie.
“Free my sister!”
Eddie raises his arms, forcing Balam into midair, rotating and rotating, faster and faster, till the ram screams, the bull snorts and the face begs for mercy.
“Free my sister!”
Balam’s body turns to a blur, bashing against the wall with each vastly accelerated turn, its body accumulating the aerodynamic pain of aging wind.
“I command you, bitch of hell. Release her!”
Balam screams out, its voice getting caught on the wind of its spin. The room turns into a tornado of chaos, objects turning to weapons against Balam as they get caught in the circle of the whirlwind it creates.
Eddie even chuckles a little as the ram head squeals in agony.
“It is done!” Balam replies, and Eddie drops its body to the floor.
From within it, a body rises. It is translucent, vacantly existential, a bare form of a spirit. But to Eddie, whatever form it is, it is instantly recognizable.
“Eddie…” speaks the voice of his sister, still the age she has been kept at for her eternity of suffering.
Eddie wipes his tears and holds them out in his hand. Cassy put hers on his, but her spiritual form falls through it, unable to clasp his affection in hers.
“Thank you…” she whispers.
Tears fall down his face like upturned buckets; the emotion accumulated throughout his childhood, his adolescence, and his adult years turn into one solitary look of bare love.
With a stare and a smile, Cassy evaporates upwards, transported to the comfort of heaven; or so Eddie hopes.
You’re free.
“This is not over,” Balam informs him, clambering to its knees. “I will return. I will return with armies and we will take you down.”
“I look forward to it,” answers Eddie.
Balam drops its heads and goes up in flames; and with that, it is no more. It has disappeared. And the room is still. The objects remain floored and Eddie can return to his body.
Adeline whimpers and cries over Eddie. Eddie slowly lifts his head.
“Don’t cry for me, Adeline,” he softly instructs her.
Adeline’s eyes open. She clings to him, hugging him tightly and gratefully, thanking him repeatedly.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You saved my life!”
Eddie leans up, propping himself against the wall. He runs his hands backwards through his hair and over his face, gathering himself.
“Oh, it was…” Eddie goes to say ‘a piece of cake,’ then recalls it wasn’t quite that simple. “It was my pleasure,” he completes the sentence with instead.
“Thank you,” Adeline continues to urgently show her gratitude.
“Oh stop it,” Eddie smiles warmly. “Your mum’s downstairs.”
Her face lights up and she bursts out from the room. Eddie hears the rumble of quick paces down the stairs and a door open as she bursts into the living room, followed by the loud happy tears of the girl’s rejoicing mother.
He uses the wall to drag himself to his feet. He rests a hand over his back as he leans over slightly, rubbing the aching pain. He looks over the room; the mess, the chaos, the destruction. He would hate to be the one paying that bill.
He heads out of the room and slowly makes his way downstairs. He opens the door to the living room and peers in.
Beatrice clings to her daughter as if she is never letting go. Tears furiously protrude from her eyes as she hugs her daughter to her chest with sheer delight. She is too caught up in her passionate pleasure at her daughter’s safety and doesn’t even notice Eddie peering in.
Eddie decides it’s best to leave quietly. Beatrice will want to thank him, and he doesn’t do well with gratitude. He slowly opens the front door so as to be as quiet as possible and makes his way out into the morning sun.
A new year, a new millennium, the rain dripping from the sky, landing in sparse drops upon Eddie’s head. He takes a moment to breathe in the fresh morning air, to smell the rain hitting the ground all around him.
Cassy is free.
He straightens up his tie and takes it one foot at a time.
33
1 May 1996
Eddie stood over his sister’s grave with his hands in the pocket of his trench coat. He hadn’t long until Derek needed to take him back to the university for his afternoon classes, but he would never miss his annual visit. This was the first time he had visited her with a clear mind. His hair was neatly parted, his top button done up beneath his tie and he could still smell his fresh new flat on his clothes.
“I love you, sis,” he told the headstone, laying his flowers down and walking away.
In the car park, his red Nissan Micra sat perfectly in the space where he had left it. He loved his car. It wasn’t much, but it was his.
Before he got into his car, he paused. He closed his eyes and took in the moment. He was about to go back to university to complete his demonology degree. After that, he had a very pressing commitment; dinner with his best friend and her girlfriend. It had taken him a long time, but he was there. He was happy.
“Eddie?” came a voice from behind him. He turned around to see Derek approaching.
“Derek?” he enquired, confused. “I was just on my way back now.”
“I needed to speak to you away from the university. What I’m about to say has not been sanctioned.”
Eddie’s eyebrows narrowed. He was confused. What on earth could he need to talk to him about?
As if answering his thoughts, Derek handed Eddie a newspaper, instructing him to turn to page nine. Eddie did so and, at the bottom of the page, he read the headline:
‘CRAZED MOTHER BECOMES LAUGHING STOCK OF TOWN AS SHE CLAIMS HER DAUGHTER IS POSSESSED.’
“Has anyone investigated?” Eddie asked.
“Oh yeah, the church has
been, they say she’s full of it.” Derek nodded, leaning against the car next to Eddie. “They haven’t sanctioned it.”
“Well if the Church hasn’t sanctioned it –”
“I never told you this, but the Church didn’t sanction you, either.”
Eddie let this sink in.
“So why are you telling me this?”
Derek ceased leaning against the car and looked around, gathering his thoughts. He stroked his neat goatee, his mouth open about to speak for a good few seconds before he actually began talking.
“I think it’s time we stopped sticking you with books to pass a degree, Eddie.”
“What? But I’ve been working so hard.”
“Books are for people who can’t do it. We both know that’s not you.”
“You mean… you want me to come watch this girl’s exorcism?”
Derek smirked and chuckled to himself slightly.
“No, Eddie. I want you to perform this girl’s exorcism.”
Eddie’s jaw dropped. He froze. Him? Performing an exorcism? He had no field experience; besides the one occasion he was involved and ended up in hell.
“I don’t know…”
“Yes you do,” Derek assertively instructed him. “You have a gift, Eddie. And it is time we started exploring it.”
Eddie smiled. Derek was right. He did have a gift. If he could help people, he surely had an obligation to do so. No, more than an obligation; he had a desire to.
“Where do I start?”
EDDIE WILL RETURN IN:
BOOK TWO
DESCENDANT OF HELL
Released December 2016
Join Rick Wood’s mailing list at www.rickwoodwriter.com to keep up-to-date with its release
Also available by Rick Wood:
The Art of Murder
Would you sacrifice your sanity to catch a killer?
When a former detective turned private investigator is brought in to assist on the murder of Shelley Duvall, he could never have predicted how far it would take him. As bodies of children start to show up, he faces a race against time to catch the killer.
Sean Mallon is a private investigator suffering from PTSD, desperate not to force his anxiety into having to deal with the sight of another corpse.
His opponent is a psychopath taking great pleasure in forcing Sean to relive his past
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