The wakening, p.29
The Wakening, page 29
“Then let’s begin. Remember, do not listen to anything the demon says. They are all liars, and worse than that, they will twist words and facts to create doubt inside you.”
With his cross hanging from his neck and his rosary wrapped around his wrist, Leo opened his Bible and led them forward, reciting from the Book of Romans.
“The God of peace will soon crush Satan under our feet. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you.”
The closer they drew to the dark maw of the doorway, the stronger the aura of malevolence grew. It was far worse than anything Leo had ever experienced, and they weren’t even inside yet. He wondered again if he’d have the strength to do what he needed.
If he’d even survive.
What does it matter?
The thought made him pause. Why worry about his own mortality, when it had already reached its final chapter?
I no longer have to fear death, which means it can’t hold me back.
This will be my final battle.
A weight lifted from his shoulders that he hadn’t even known burdened him. For months, he’d been so occupied with his own depression and fear that he’d forgotten his true reason for being.
I am God’s sword, and my job is to dispatch evil in His name.
With a renewed sense of purpose, he strode forward into the house.
SECTION FOUR – Exorcism
Los Angeles, Present Day
Excerpt from Good Morning with Josh and Jenny
Jenny Durso: “Would you say the things that happened in Hastings Mills changed you?”
Stone Graves: “Changed me? Absolutely.”
Josh Black: “For better or worse?”
Graves: “That’s not an easy question to answer. I’m a different person for sure. Probably a better person. But am I a happier person? I don’t think I can say that. I still wake up with nightmares. All of us do. And I’m more aware of the evil that lurks in our world, just waiting to destroy us. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.”
Durso nods. Black points at the copy of Graves’s book on the coffee table between them.
Black: “But you did a great thing. You rid the world of some of that evil.”
Graves: “Yeah. But at what cost?”
Durso: (leaning forward) “If you could go back in time, would you do anything differently?”
Graves: “Hell, yeah. I’d never step foot in that goddamned town.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Hastings Mills, NY, July 20th, one year ago
Stone watched the priest square his shoulders and walk inside. There’d been a moment where it looked like the old man wouldn’t enter the house. Add that to his stumble outside and Stone was beginning to have his doubts about the exorcist. He seemed far too aged and frail for something like this.
A greatly subdued Lockhart followed Father Bonaventura. He’d changed from the manic, pompous lunatic of just two days ago. Stone still didn’t trust him, but he no longer seemed to be an immediate threat to anyone.
As they entered the house, all the lights came on. A noxious odor, unlike anything Stone had smelled before, pervaded the living room. It wasn’t quite wet fur, and not quite damp, moldy wood, but something close.
Randi touched his arm.
“Look.”
Greenish-yellow slime oozed from the walls. Puddles of it stained the carpet. Stone turned to tell Ken to get some video of it, and then cursed when he remembered his videographer and Del were already on their way to Buffalo. He had to settle for using his phone while Randi got some shots with the small digital recorder she’d snagged from the van.
Father Bonaventura paused and glanced around the room.
“That odor. Has it been here the entire time?”
Randi shook her head. “No. This is different. Before it was kind of rotten meat and old garbage.”
The priest’s mouth twisted as he sniffed again. “Demon stench. That’s what I would expect. Not this….”
“I’ve smelled it,” Curt Rawlings said. “Back before all this started. Kinda musty. I thought we had some kind of water leak down in the basement.”
“No. This is something else.” Without explaining further, Father Bonaventura led them toward the stairs. Stone got the impression he recognized the odor, and its presence confused him.
“They’re watching,” Claudia said, her voice just above a whisper. Stone jumped a little. She’d been so silent he’d forgotten she was there.
“Who?” he asked.
Claudia frowned and shook her head. “The shadows. Her, and another. They’re angry. And sad. I can’t—”
A loud thumping started upstairs. Stone recognized it immediately. Abby’s bed rising and falling. The bang! bang! of multiple doors slamming joined it.
“The girl’s room?” Father Bonaventura asked. Curt nodded.
A picture flew off the mantel and struck the ceiling. Others followed it, glass shattering and falling like rain. The couch spun in a circle, knocking over an end table and sending a lamp crashing to the floor. A rumbling filled the room, accompanied by a vibration in the floor.
Father Bonaventura approached the stairs and grasped the banister.
The house went quiet.
“Please, all of you.” Father Bonaventura glanced back at them. “Stay down here until I call for you. I need to make the initial contact without any distractions.”
A picture rose from the floor and sailed across the room, causing Father Bonaventura to duck. An ashtray followed, denting the wall next to him. He murmured something and placed a foot on the staircase. When nothing further attacked him, he began to climb. The doors on the second floor slammed in synch with each footstep. A freezing wind blew through the house, bringing with it the familiar stench of dead, rotting flesh.
All the lights went out except the ones in Abby’s room, which cast a yellow glow into the upstairs hallway, guiding Father Bonaventura to his destination. Head held high and Bible gripped in his hands, he strode forward.
Stone watched as he disappeared out of sight, his shadow stretching longer and taller against the wall until Abby’s door banged shut and the upstairs went dark.
Randi put her hands on her hips. “Now what?”
Stone chewed his lip, wishing he’d put a camera in the room.
“Now we wait.”
Leo ignored the door closing and locking behind him. The girl hovered over her bed, dressed only in pajama bottoms, her legs folded in a lotus position. Crimson marks covered her exposed flesh. Her face was sallow and drawn, her ribs prominent. The harsh stink of fresh, concentrated urine mixed with the reek of the demon emanating from her pores. A large stain on the bed showed where she’d wet it.
All typical signs of possession, and Leo felt no surprise at them. Demons – even powerful ones – tended to be unimaginative in their tricks.
On the other hand, certain details in the room cried out for his attention. The ectoplasm spilling down the walls. The stains on the ceiling. The clothes and personal items scattered on the floor, evidence of the earlier telekinetic episodes he’d been told about, which most likely stemmed from the spirit haunting the house. The same one he’d smelled downstairs.
“Hello, my old friend.”
Leo returned his gaze to the girl. Her voice, low and harsh, brought him back to that tiny hut in the jungle, where a young boy spoke in exactly the same manner. Over the decades, he’d only had a few cases where a demon actually spoke through its victim; most times possessed individuals babbled nonsense or bits of different languages.
Clear speech indicated a powerful presence.
Still, he had to be sure this wasn’t a lesser creature toying with them.
“Who are you, beast? Speak your name.”
The closet door swung open and closed. A pile of books rose up and flew across the room like a flock of alien birds.
“I am lust. I am death. I am pain.”
Leo thrust the Bible out. “In the name of God the Almighty, I command you to speak your name!”
“Leo, help me!” The voice changed, became that of an old man. A voice Leo recognized instantly. Jorge Sanchez, his old friend and mentor. The man who’d given his life in that jungle so many years ago. A frigid chill ran through Leo.
Demons lie, he reminded himself.
He reached into his pocket and removed a bottle of holy water. When he squirted some on the girl, her body writhed and she cried out. Blisters formed on her flesh and brownish-yellow urine ran down her legs.
“Your name, demon! God commands you, tell me your name!”
Clothes and books spun up and around. The bed rose and fell. All the dresser drawers opened and closed. Abigail dropped to the bed on her back, her limbs shaking.
Everything went still.
Abigail lay with her eyes closed, panting as if she’d just run a race. Leo splashed more holy water on her, but there was no reaction. The pressure in his chest eased up. Perhaps he’d been wrong. The demon of his nightmares would not have tired so easily. Which meant the root of the problems at the Rawlings household probably stemmed from the other possibility he’d considered. They’d still have a tough road ahead, but not as bad as he’d feared.
Now it was simply a matter of making the right preparations.
He turned to leave. As he reached for the knob, a line of flames ran across the wood and he jerked his hand back. The fire receded, leaving a cloud of smoke and a series of letters.
Asmodeum.
The door unlatched and opened a few inches.
His Bible clutched in trembling hands, Leo hurried for the stairs.
Childish giggling chased him all the way.
Ken and Del stood on the side of the highway and watched as the Uber driver emerged from under the hood of his SUV. The engine had died without warning just as they reached the top of the entrance ramp for Route 19, which would take them north to Buffalo.
“It’s dead.” The driver slammed the hood down. “Just like everyone you left behind.”
“What?” Ken took a step back at the man’s sudden vehemence.
“Dead, dead, dead.” The driver, a twenty-something wearing a Greenpeace t-shirt, gave them a wild grin and flicked open a large folding knife. “And you’re dead too. No fags in my town! Asmodeus wakes!”
He slashed at Del, who twisted away and yelped as the blade sliced a thin line across his shoulder. The driver jabbed with the knife and Del threw a roundhouse that caught him on the temple. The driver’s eyes rolled up and he crumpled to the ground.
Del looked at Ken. “Did you hear him?”
“Yeah.” Ken wanted to believe he’d misheard, or imagined it, but he couldn’t fool himself. Stone and the others were in trouble.
And you ditched on them.
“We’ve got to go back.”
“I know.” Just saying it twisted Ken’s guts in a knot. They’d both come within inches of death. Now they were thinking of putting their lives in danger again. And for what? Some stranger and his kid? Fifteen minutes of fame?
Friendship.
“Fuck me.” Ken pulled out his phone to call for another ride.
The screen went black and a message appeared in bright red letters.
Deaddeaddeaddeaddead.
The glass shattered into a spiderweb of gray lines.
Del let out a curse as his phone screen cracked in pieces. The knot in his stomach tightened. Something didn’t want them to leave, but it also didn’t want them returning too soon. When he looked at Del, he saw the same frightened understanding in his eyes.
Without a word, they both broke into a run.
Stone and the others watched as Leo laid out a series of items on the kitchen table. Bible, holy water, rosary, candles, and incense on one side. A pile of what looked like dried weeds, unmarked bottles of clear liquid, and a lighter on the other side.
Lockhart picked up one of the bundles of stems with a frown.
“Sage and salt water? Those are for cleansing rituals.”
“Yes.” Leo nodded. “We’re not just dealing with possession. This house is also haunted by a poltergeist. Perhaps more than one.”
“A poltergeist?” Lockhart shook his head. “No. The girl is possessed. You heard the demon. Saw what it did. You even said that the construction in the dormitory most likely broke the bindings you put there.”
“She is. But her possession doesn’t explain everything that’s happened. There is something else here. Most likely the ghost of Caitlyn Rawlings.”
“A demon and a ghost at the same time? That’s unheard of. More likely the demon wants us to believe something else is going on. It’s a trick.”
“I hate to agree with him, but it does sound kind of far-fetched,” Randi said.
Leo sat down, grateful for a chance to rest. His pulse raced and his chest ached, despite the pills the doctor had given him.
“None of you really understand the supernatural. The paranormal.” Stone started to protest and the priest held up a hand. “Hear me out. You’ve dealt with ghosts and minor demons. But you’ve barely scratched the surface. Are you aware the presence of a demon can make it easier for a poltergeist to manifest? It can also cause a benign spirit to become malicious. The opposite is also true. A malicious spirit can weaken the boundaries between our world and the next and make it easier for a demon to extend a piece of itself into this plane.”
“Are you saying a demon can influence our world without fully entering it?”
Leo nodded. “Yes. There are different forms of possession. In the beginning, there might only be subtle signs. Changes in behavior. Or it could be physical, with only the body affected. In the later stages, both body and soul are taken over. When it reaches that point…sometimes even an exorcism cannot save the person.”
“How do you know if….” Curt’s words trailed off. Leo felt the man’s pain. What if it was already too late to save Abby? He wished he could guarantee success, but it wasn’t in him to give false hope.
“From the outside, it’s almost impossible to tell. Both types can show the same stages of diabolical possession.”
“What are they?”
Lockhart spoke up. “Possession, obsession, and infestation.”
Leo continued. “Emotional and mental torment. Inanimate objects or lower animals acting in strange manners. Psychosis caused by the presence of a demon. Paranormal incidents. Physical wounds. Speaking in tongues.”
“We’ve seen all of that,” Stone said.
“Demons are always testing us and our world for weaknesses. Many will manipulate other forces to try and open doorways to our world. They can use the lingering energies of the dead as tools, twisting and influencing those forces just as they do living beings. And if a demon is not exorcised properly –” Leo looked at Lockhart, “– the danger is magnified even further. You must remove the beast by the roots, so that nothing remains behind.”
“But it’s not just here,” Corday said. “It’s the whole town. We’ve had suicides, murders, and reports of things I didn’t even believe.”
“Its influence is spreading. Think of a fungus or mushroom. On the surface, you see the cap and stem, one organism. But below the ground, it sends hyphae, roots, in all directions, corrupting everything they touch.”
“That’s not how demons work,” Lockhart objected.
Leo whirled around to face him. “And now you’re the expert? What do you even know of demons? Of Asmodeus?”
Lockhart didn’t back down. “He’s the demon of lust. One of Satan’s generals. There are mentions of him well before the Bible. He’s often depicted with multiple faces.”
“First of all, there is no he or she when it comes to demons. And it is not just faces, it’s five heads. Do you understand what that means?” The priest gave Lockhart no chance to respond. “It’s a representation of the beast’s true nature. That it can be in many places at once, possess multiple people at once. The more powerful it becomes, the farther its evil extends.”
“I never heard of such a thing.” Doubt filled Lockhart’s voice.
“Of course not. You’re a novice compared to me, and even after fifty years, I’ve only scratched the surface of all the information on Satan and his minions stored in the Vatican’s catacombs.”
Lockhart looked properly abashed.
“So now what?” Stone asked. “We’re supposed to exorcise the entire town?”
“No.” Leo pushed away from the table. “If we cast the demon from our world, the other spirits will be weakened enough so that we can banish them as well.”
“If?” Randi asked.
Leo shrugged.
“When it comes to the supernatural, nothing is guaranteed.”
Standing at the foot of Abby’s bed, Stone suffered a wave of déjà vu. The scene was eerily reminiscent of Lockhart’s failed attempt to drive the demon from Abby. Shari’s glaring absence had affected Claudia badly. She looked ready to collapse, her skin pallid and her eyes barely open. He’d asked her if she wanted to remain downstairs, and she’d shaken her head. When he tried to insist, she’d slipped past him and gone into the room.
“I command you, unholy one who calls himself Asmodeus, to leave this child of God. You and all your minions, depart this place! By the mysteries of faith and holiness, in the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, leave!”
Father Bonaventura cast holy water across Abby. Curt had thrown a blanket over her earlier, but now her back arched and the blanket flew off, exposing her sunken chest and emaciated body. He doused her again and she screamed, twisting and turning as the liquid hit her flesh and sizzled, creating blisters between the cuneiform welts that paraded across her skin.
