The Second Sight – Episode 29

THE SECOND SIGHT EPISODE 29

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THE PARISH PRISON

I was lost in thought too.

That tingling in me was growing stronger now.

I didn’t try to make too much of what I had heard about the life of Samantha Gaisie.

It had been revealed to me in the strongest terms what had happened.

Steve Poku had been possessed by one of those demonic fiends which had forced him to go to the wedding.

It had forced the poor man to ki*ll himself, and then it had invaded the bride.

The rest was history.

No one told me, but I knew!

It was just like the tingling in my bones, the strange power that had made me deal ruthlessly with the tall thief, and the unrelenting force that had led me to identify Guy Grant and get the story out of him.

Somehow, the life of an Unblind was coming effortlessly to me now.

God was definitely using me.

And at that time, I didn’t know whether to be happy…or sad.

My anger sizzled.

How could it do that to the innocent lady? Straight from her wedding day she had now become a monster, locked away from society, capable of wreaking only the most hideous acts on humanity.

My relief that I still had the gift of the Second Sight was mixed with my great fear that I was very inexperienced and could very easily fumble it and make matters worse for the woman.

It would have been better to go Portville and gotten more insight into the whole thing before trying to confront that thing in Samantha Gaisie; after all, as the cliché went, she was going nowhere.

But there was nothing I could do; that urge, that overdriving power, was there, pushing me on, raring to go and looking for some fast action.

Somehow that evil being had been aware of my presence, and had left its host long enough to check me out and find out my potential threat.

I knew without a doubt that if it had found me as weak as any of the exorcists it had met so far, it would have torn me to shreds.

But it had seen me approaching…and had fled.

That in itself gave me a great psychological power.

That demon was now aware that I was coming, and no doubt it had prepared itself, but I knew that slight advantage still remained.

Soon we began to see lights, and Guy eased off on the accelerator. We passed a series of adobe houses. The land had flattened out somehow, but the car still climbed.

The parish was standing all alone.

It was a great concrete building with a tall tower. Eight foot walls completely surrounded it. Even before the huge gates creaked open we were aware of the great commotion going on.

The grounds itself was a most lovely garden.

Exotic flowers, green grass and sweet-smelling plants had been grown all around. Robed nuns were milling around, moving from place to place, gesticulating wildly.

When the car came to a stop I felt that overwhelming tingling again, and my whole brain was filled, as if something was trying to get in there, probing my brain cells violently, seeking to drive me crazy.

I leaned forward, the pain unbearable, gasping for breath, sudden sweat pouring off my face as the pain increased relentlessly.

BOAT

(angrily, harshly)

Get the f**k out of my head, demon!

Immediately the painful probing was gone, preceded by a faint wail that I seemed to hear way down in my head.

Guy was already out, and a group of nuns had come out to meet him, chattering excitedly. I joined them slowly.

BOAT

(voice strained)

What’s happening, Guy?

Tears glittered on Grant’s cheeks as he turned a tortured face toward me.

GUY GRANT

(choking with tears)

Sam has become worse! It began late this afternoon, and intensified as the hours wore on. She’s been screaming and hurling herself at the door all night, behaving extremely violently.

From around the corner of the building two priests appeared, evidently very alarmed.

They were tall and thin, almost gaunt. One was wearing the tiniest pair of glasses I had ever seen, perched precariously on his long, hooked nose. His sparse hair was still dominated with black, unlike the other man whose hair was steel grey.

DARK-HAIRED PRIEST

You shouldn’t be here tonight, Mr. Grant! The young lady is extremely fired up tonight! We’re afraid she could do herself much harm! We laced her food this evening with sedatives so that we could go in and inject her, but she didn’t eat it.

About four of five priests burst into view again and joined our group.

Guy turned to me and shook his head sadly.

GUY GRANT

(broken, haggard)

Let’s leave, Mr. Boat. I don’t think we can see her tonight.

BOAT

(harshly)

Take me to her! Now!

Hostile eyes were suddenly fixed on me; the priests didn’t like me much.

BESPECTACLED PRIEST

(in a cold frosted voice)

“And who might you be, sir? Whoever you are, you better get out of here. What we’re dealing with isn’t for mere men.

BOAT

(coldly)

And what makes you think you’re more man than I am?

I heard the collective intake of breaths around me.

GUY GRANT

(anxiously)

Yaw, please –

I pushed my way past the throng of bodies.

Whatever was in me was like a magnet drawing me forwards much against my will.

A SHORT PRIEST

(angrily)

Hey, you can’t do this!

He reached out to hold my hand. He was short and squat, and obviously had a short fuse.

I fixed my eyes on him, and what he saw might have scared him because he let me go and stepped backward.

BOAT

(grimly)

Nobody should try and stop me! Take me to her. And if her door is locked you better get the key!

GUY GRANT

(confused)

Yaw, this is Father Sebastian and Father Dominic. They’re in charge. I think it is best to listen to them.

BOAT

(angry, shouting)

Goddamn it! Take me to her!

I never knew whether it was the fury in my voice or a respect for my determination, but they parted for me, and some even followed me as Grant led the way.

Just around the right wall of the parish were a series of stone stairs leading downward. It leveled off pretty soon, and suddenly I found myself walking on some sort of a hanging bridge. It was made of solid planks of wood tied together with twine.

Interwoven twines formed a five-foot protective rail on the sides. The only illumination came from torch lights which the priests held. I wondered how steep the drop was. Would it be into a rocky valley or some dark waters?

No time.

I was in a hurry, and the priests were moving too slowly and casually for my liking. The bridge swayed alarmingly as we trooped unto it, but the evident lack of concern from my companions told me, at least, that it was sturdy.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, we landed on firm ground again, and almost immediately I was confronted by the stone building in front of me.

It was a crude square structure, standing there all alone, imposing and yet so vulnerable. It had no electricity, but I could see its square windows emitting a soft insufficient glow, evidently from lanterns.

Guy spoke then at my elbow, obviously in an effort to explain the grim nature of her cell.

GUY GRANT

(soberly)

She always hated the lights. She’s in a soundproofed room inside.

I could feel the evil force all around me now.

It was potent, puffed-up and ready for a brawl.

For a brief moment my heart faltered, and real panic threatened to assail me.

It all looked so imposing and foreboding. Suddenly my heart wanted to get out of there and never stop moving until I was clear of the place.

________________________

A GROWL OF WARNING

But that deep strange power held me firm.

Somewhere in my brain a voice cried out, asking how I could face The Legion of demons again if a single demon was now spooking me so badly.

BOAT

(softly)

Open the door!

Father Sebastian spoke, and I could hear the terror in his high-pitched voice.

FATHER SEBASTIAN

(horrified)

No, sir, you can’t do that! Not when she’s in that mood. No! Sweet Jesus, what are you planning to do? Exorcise a demon with your bare hands?

I turned and fixed him with a stare.

BOAT

Open it.

The priests turned to Guy Grant with severe and scared eyes.

FATHER SEBASTIAN

(horrified)

Mr. Grant, this is a bad night. I don’t know what you think you’re up to, but this thing here needs experts! If you go ahead with this the circumstances could be very disastrous, believe me.

For a moment Grant hesitated.

His tortured eyes searched my face, seeking answers which I was sure weren’t there. If anything went bad I knew he would never be able to forgive himself. He rubbed a hand across his face, and then he nodded slightly.

GUY GRANT

(in a hollow voice)

Open the door for him, Father. Let him go, and may God be with him.

I shivered.

He was already speaking of me as if I wasn’t with them, as if I were dead.

Father Dominic stepped forward, mounted the stone steps and began to fumble with a bunch of keys. Soon after the heavy doors creaked open.

The doorway was inadequately lighted by lantern light.

I swallowed painfully as I mounted the steps. The priest held out a huge key on a large circular key holder to me.

He spoke without looking at me.

FATHER DOMINIC

(fearfully)

That opens her cell, which is at the end of the corridor. The other rooms are…private. I beg of you, don’t open that cell.

He crossed himself quickly and descended the stairs.

Evidently, none of them was going in with me.

Clutching the key tightly, I took a deep breath and entered.

The first thing that hit me was the stench.

It was the horrible scent of decay, of sewers.

Heavy stench-removing chemicals – formaldehydes, maybe – had obviously been applied, but they failed woefully to stem that terrible smell.

It was a wide corridor with doors on each side. The floor was lined with a synthetic carpet of some sorts, threadbare at many places.

All the doors on each side of the corridor were closed, and I saw that faint light filtered in from under the one on my immediate left. I had been right about the light; lanterns hung from pegs staked into the walls.

Up ahead was the end of the corridor…and the cell.

I could feel the sinister presence all around me…breathing, alive, waiting!

I was reminded of those muscle-bound wrestlers on WWF, where one would be waiting patiently in the ring, all puffed up, waiting for a challenger to emerge from the dressing room.

I had never liked wrestling simply because I had never known for sure whether the matches were for real or pre-fixed, you know, like some sort of clowning. I hated to see them pretending to hammer somebody’s head only to hold back the full effects of the punches at the point of impact.

But I knew what faced me was the real deal.

No punches would be held back. Death would be the decider, and all of a sudden I felt so alone, so exposed, so inadequate…

Sweet Jesus, what are you planning to do? Exorcise a demon with your bare hands?

One of the priests had said; I had already forgotten which one.

I could see the heavy metal door at the end of the corridor.

It had a little square space with bars near its top. A kind of glow light was in there, an unnatural sort of light, a kind of yellow glow.

Yellow glow, yellow glow, Death’s banner!

Where the hell had that come from?

Concentrate!

I tried to empty my mind, but the nightmare of my father’s skull exploding on the ceiling just wouldn’t let me go. I took a deep shuddering breath, and stepped forward.

And then it came…a low growl!

The sort of growl a mad rabid dog might make in its heated throat; a growl that seemed to be coming out of the walls. A beastly growl…death’s banner!

I took another step forward, and suddenly something hurled itself against the cell door hard…again and again.

I quickened my steps, and then the horrible shriek rent the air, causing me to stop dead in my tracks.

I knew, in my fuddled brain, that no human or beast could have made that sound. This was a sound from something from somewhere.

A death sound, a violent ancient species ready for battle, determined to keep what it had. I began to think about Dolly Parton; big-titted sweet sister singing about love being like a butterfly.

I had never really understood that song, but apart from the sweet voice I had always dreamt about burying my head in those

mamalodies , as my deceased friend, Bob, used to say.

I checked my thoughts. How could I think about breasts, country music and butterflies when there was that thing ahead of me?

I was supposed to have clean pure thoughts. I was supposed to be thinking about how good and clean God was, how He abhors sin and maybe I should have doused myself in Holy Water or some anointed oils…

But just hold on a sec!

The thing in there was waiting, and the thing in me was moving.

I moved forward, and the growl came again.

A low growl that could’ve been made by a thousand saber-toothed tigers and resonated around the walls and tried its best to burst my eardrums. It set my teeth on edge and made my legs falter, but whatever was inside me couldn’t be stilled.

When I was about seven paces from that steel door everything went quiet.

No sound.

It was a silence that was so loud that it made me prefer the ominous sounds from the thing in there. I could feel it breathing, all pumped-up, ready to unleash the next high-tech generation of evil.

The brass key felt hot and in my clammy palm, and I tightened my hold on it. It was my only link to the physical world now, and it helped to keep my sanity.

Deep down I admitted to myself that I had lost control over the situation, and that I was only moving like a puppet, controlled by forces beyond my control.

I had transcended and moved between worlds, leaving a safe haven behind and being catapulted into an insane sphere of living where you could get your skull crushed against a concrete ceiling in the split of a second.

FIRST WAR

The thing in there began to huff!

I could feel its puffed-up anger.

I sensed no fear, only a strong urge for a fight. This was a demon that had obviously never lost a battle, possessing all the devastating arsenals it had acquired over thousands of lifetimes…

I stopped in front of the door. That square space was just right in front of me, and I leaned close and looked inside.

Into hell!

The room – or cell – was small.

It was devoid of any furniture except a bedlike concrete erection on its right wall. There was nothing else. Obviously they didn’t want to leave anything in that room which could become a weapon in the hands of that thing inside.

I could see another partially closed door at the end of the wall, probably leading to a toilet and bath.

The room stank to high kingdom – a combination of piss, human excreta, blood, rotten food and simple bad hygiene.

The ceiling was high, and from it burned a single lantern encased in a strong metal erection with tiny holes through them. I guessed it had an outlet somewhere on the roof, so that it was impossible to reach that lantern from the cell.

The mattress on the stone erection had been ripped to tiny pieces. On the floor were white disposable sacs, the ones they normally sold fast foods in.

And on the floor were mounds of excreta, deliberately used to smear the walls. Here and there were dark maroon spots…blood.

She was sitting on the stone bed facing the door. She was naked and extremely thin – anorexia no doubt. Bones protruded out of her from all angles. It was as if a bit of child’s skin had been stretched to cover her skeleton.

Her cheeks were so hollowed out that for a wild moment I thought I was looking at a real skull above that body.

Her legs were apart, and she was pushing three or four fingers on her right hand in and out of her vulva, a lecherous grin on her face.

Judging by the long dirty nails on her right fingers, she was actually doing herself terrible harm by attacking her crotch like that.

I saw dark liquids on her thighs and forming a dark puddle around her gnarled curled feet. Her hair had long fallen out, and the little tufts that covered that domed horror appeared completely white.

And then I looked at her eyes.

They were not human eyes.

They were absolutely square, and they blazed yellow.

Yellow glow, yellow glow, death’s banner!

The demon wanted to show me how it had wasted her, and it wanted me to know it was there, sitting pretty, waiting, not ready to budge, dude!

My first horrified thoughts were that Samantha Gaisie was indeed the Demon of the Parish.

I was so shocked and sickened that for a moment I could not move. I was holding the key so tightly that it cut into my palm.

She spoke in that great booming voice that was really no voice at all, but some dark sound from something uncouth, something evil…a vindictive demon!

SAMANTHA-DEMON

Hello, cvnt-man! Wanna f**k me? I made myself all wet for your cock. Ahh, cvnt-man, f**k me, f**k me, cvnt-man!”

Such waste!

Such terrible fiendishness!

That evil yellow-eyed damn demon took a fine woman on the brink of a happy life and reduced her to mud quality!

Do these things ever stop?

The fury was as fierce as it was alien.

I stepped back and jabbed the key into the lock.

That thing immediately stopped masturbating and snarled. Its mouth was wide and pink, and it puffed its shoulders like a cat about to pounce. It jumped unto the stone bed and crouched, devilish eyes never leaving my face, the snarl as ferocious as a starved tiger.

I turned the key and heard a click. It was one of those keys with a triple lock, and so I turned it again and again impatiently.

Finally it wouldn’t go round, and I knew it was open. I grabbed the door handle and pulled.

There was a harsh metallic sound as the fortified door screeched open.

At the same time a terrible shriek issued from the throat of that thing, and it hurled itself at me, bombing off that stone thing like a missile, hands elongated, and fingers reaching for my throat.

I was caught completely off-guard, and I hurled myself away from the door at the last moment. I hit the hard floor, and felt the air whooshing out of me.

My head took a bounce off the floor, and for a moment I felt real fear and total panic as that foul-smelling thing pounced on me.

Its feet were like talons that gripped me, its scent an abnormal assault on my nasal cavities that almost knocked me out completely. I could feel its talons on me, tearing savagely, touching the skin of my neck and drawing blood. Its triumphant yellow eyes gloated above me, full of devilish glee.

I fought the fear and reached out blindly, grabbing its neck and flinging it up. It bounced off me and crashed straight into the roof, and dimly I was aware that it was once again awesome

spiritual strength that was at work; my own strength couldn’t have had such a devastating power.

It hit the ceiling hard, but gravity did not bring it down like a normal human object. It stretched out coolly on the ceiling, as if it had glue in its body, and glared down at me. I rolled first unto my right shoulder, and then got to a kneeling position.

Quick as lightning it moved – no, glided – across the ceiling, heading for the door.

Panic seized me again. No, it couldn’t be allowed to escape. Out there were a lot of human hosts, and another murder could be forced right around my neck.

Feeling a crushing wave of incompetence I got to my feet and rushed after it.

BOAT

(shouting)

Hey, come back here!

Immediately it fell from the ceiling and crashed to the ground.

I winced.

That bag of bones falling from that great height! The sound was like stepping on try twigs in a dry forest. I knew that only the human host was suffering; only she would feel the great pain afterward.

The thing was on its feet, crouched, snarling.

Now the face of the girl had disappeared completely, and in place of that was the manifested head of the demon. It was a malformed yellow head, bulging at so many places that it looked totally frightening.

There were little holes in the head that appeared to be filled with pus, and I could see tiny movements in them, as if there were worm-like things in there.

Its forehead was square and sharp, protruding greatly like that of a Neanderthal. The eyes were huge square sunken holes, blazing a terrible yellow. The nose was a snakelike protrusion that squirmed and beat rapidly, its double-heads violently struggling for supremacy.

The mouth was a vertical spherical thing, filled with a great mass of yellowish sponges and four sharp saber-like teeth.

I approached it slowly. My confidence was slowly coming home.

I had commanded it to stop…and it had obeyed!

AN UNBLIND IS BORN

That was it.

Even now I could see its eyes shifting helplessly, seeking out routes of escape. I became aware of the magnificent white light in the corridor for the first time, and then I noticed that I was glowing.

My force-field was on, oh brother! Wasn’t that just about the sweetest, most beautiful thing?

The vile demon hissed at me and took tentative steps backward.

SAMANTHA-DEMON

Let me go! Let me go, pu$$y-cvnt!

pu$$y-cvnt!

That was real original.

Under other circumstances I probably would have laughed, but it was life and death I was dealing with here, and I had nothing to go on but my anger and the urge to destroy that thing.

Its face was agonized, and its arms came up to shelter its demonic eyes from the terrible glow of my force-field.

SAMANTHA-DEMON

What do you want with me, you menstrual turd? Come not closer, whoremonger! Do not come any closer!

BOAT

(angrily)

Come out of her, demon!

SAMANTHA-DEMON

NAY!! This host is mine, mine, mine!!

It screamed shrilly and snarled, blasting me with a bomb of rotten mouth air. The great voice echoed through the corridor like a herd of stampeding bulls fleeing through an underground sewer.

BOAT

(screaming)

Come out of her, now!

SAMANTHA-DEMON

(also screaming)

Says who, tadpole?

It flew at me again, flailing at my face, mouth snapping at my neck, snake-nose striking down at my face like double cobras.

I back-pedaled, barely able to keep it at bay, and the fear rose in me again.

It was a terror that seized my whole body as I saw that evil face so close, filled with superhuman strength, trying to tear me to pieces…so vicious and violent even though I was glowing.

I was back again, back to the Legion attacking me and killing my father.

So hopeless and helpless.

What in the name of blazes was going on? Why couldn’t I just stop them? What wasn’t I doing right?

I was down, and it was on top of me – slobbering, overpowering!

Terror!

BOAT

(scared, screaming)

Jesus, just get the f**k out of her!

I screamed, totally freaked out with fear.

It might sound sissy-like, right? Wrong! This wasn’t the kind of fake terror that assails you when you watch your Wes Craven flick. This wasn’t optical illusion finely-tuned to work the adrenaline in you.

This was the stuff that death was made of. This was looking death in the face without its disguise on, without the fine trimmings!

This was what the ultimate death was all about, and on that level of things where no human being was permitted to wander, things were a whole lot hotter.

So I screamed… and immediately I found myself holding unto a startled, bony face. What was lying in my arms was just a terrible anorexic woman, and she was moaning with pain, fear and incomprehension.

sh*t, it worked! Blaze me to hell and back…I just freed Samantha Gaisie!

For a moment I could only hold and stare at her, my eyes disbelieving.

It had happened !

Actually happened!

And then it hit me. I knew where I had gone wrong – what I had done wrong!

I recalled the Legion’s mirthful disdain as it killed my father and fled.

See you around, earthling!

The Legion had cried.

Now I understood. How stupid had I been?

In my inexperience I had commanded the Legion to come out of my father, but on my own authority. That was why it had laughed and killed my father. And yet, just five simple words could have saved my father :

In the name of Jesus!

That was all I needed.

That was why the Samantha-Demon had screamed, “Says Who?”

That was all the song I needed to sing. And now, in my agitation, I had uttered that name out of reflex. I had exclaimed loudly just like any other panicked young man would do in a situation of life and death.

I was filled with ecstasy and meanness at the same time. I pushed the shivering lady off me and bounced to my feet desperately.

I needn’t have worried.

That vile demon hadn’t gone anywhere.

It was curled up against the wall: a long-bodied, multi-limbed yellow thing with a crazy-looking head. Its head was bowed, its five legs drawn up, its six arms wrapped around its body.

It appeared to be shivering.

Without a human host it was pathetic.

Such evil, such heinous deeds.

I looked at it with contempt. I was still glowing as I moved toward it slowly. It raised a tortured face to mine, and immediately looked away, its face tortured.

It speaks to me in an ancient rasping voice.

YELLOW DEMON

Pray, hurt me not! Pray, allow me to be on my way! I have no further trouble with you!

I grated out with all the fury and disgust I could muster.

BOAT

(furiously)

The f**k you don’t! I haven’t finished with you yet, demon!

It shook its gigantic head vigorously.

YELLOW DEMON

No, you can’t do anything else! It is your power to take me out of the woman, but you can’t destroy me! It is only the Great One who can destroy us on the Great Judgment Day!

BOAT

(softly, nastily)

Says who? I don’t know any of that sh*t! It is me and you, and what I can do to you!

It looked up at me, and I saw the sudden horror on its face. It shook that huge head violently, and it began to glide along the wall away from me.

It looked absolutely terrified!

YELLOW DEMON

No, you can’t touch me! Go on, read the Holy Scriptures! It is not thy authority to hurt us! You can only cast us out!

BOAT

(angrily)

As I told you, I don’t know any of that sh*t! Now stop dragging your a$$ all over the damn floor!

It became absolutely still.

It tried to look at me again, yellow eyes terrified and beseeching!

YELLOW DEMON

(whispering tremulously)

Pray, let me be on my way! There’s a herd of sheep on the other side of the bridge. Pray, allow me to enter them.

BOAT

(harshly)

Who the f**k do you think I am? Jesus Christ? You think you can just enter anything you want and destroy it, like you did to this poor woman, you ugly little turd?

I chuckled; it was a nasty sound.

I felt absolutely nasty.

Here was the thing that had killed Steve Poku and who knows how many people else? I wanted it to feel pain and to hurt. I wanted to stomp on it and hear its screams. Here it was, the unfeeling piece of dirt that had denied a poor wife and her husband the simple need of being in love, of having a good honeymoon.

How evil could it be?

 

To be continued…

©Aaron Ansah – Agyeman

All Rights Reserved.

ALL EPISODES OF THE SECOND SIGHT