The Second Sight – Episode 30

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THE SECOND SIGHT EPISODE 30

®20+ SNVL

 

BURNING DEMONS

YELLOW DEMON

Pray, send me out! That is all you can do! You have no authority to destroy me! That right is the sole prerogative of the Great One!

It whined, and its face shimmered sort of – one minute it was clear, the other minute it was barely discernible.

BOAT

(harshly)

f**k your beliefs, Thing! In the name of Jesus Christ, burn… just f****ng burn!

And that was it.

It burst into flames.

This was not your local cooker flame, no!

This was a kind of blackish fire that has silvery flashes within, and it would have been really terrible because that vile thing screeched with horror and looked at me with sheer horror!

It struggled violently, its face contorted with fear more than pain. It wasn’t any ordinary fire; I could see it blazing wildly, but I felt no heat, and I definitely didn’t see any smoke.

BOAT

(giggling, exhilarated)

Yeah, yeah, burn, you faggot! How do you like being tortured for a change, you bas***d?

That thing began to contort in the flames. There was no escape for it. The flames licked fiercer and higher.

I could see from the shape of its spherical mouth that it was screaming in terrible agony, but I watched every little action there was for as long as it lasted. Luckily its screams didn’t come out after a while.

And then…it was gone.

There one minute…gone the other!

I let out a shuddering breath, realizing only then that I had been holding my breath as the terrible drama unfolded.

I leaned back wearily against one of the doors and allowed my breathing to stabilize. There was sweat all over me, and I felt terribly weak. Otherwise I was very okay.

Finally I turned to Samantha Gaisie.

She was hugging herself against the wall in an uncannily exact posture like the demon had portrayed a few minutes ago.

Great balls of tears fell down her anorexic cheeks. Her nose was wrinkled with distaste even as she cried. She stared at her hands, and horror filled her to the core. She tried to speak, but her voice just wouldn’t come out.

I understood her; she had woken up from a nightmare and found out that it was the only reality and truth.

I knelt beside her and she shrank from me, struggling to cover her deflated breasts. I took off my coat and draped it across her shoulders. She tried to draw it closer around her, but she could barely lift her hands.

BOAT

(gently, pityingly)

It’s okay, Sam, you’re okay now!

Her huge eyes searched my face desperately, hungrily, and great tears still fell down those cheeks. She could not speak, but she clutched at me fiercely and mouthed just two words.

SAMANTHA

(distraught)

Thank you!

That was enough.

It wiped the bad taste in my mouth. I hadn’t realized just how much the demon’s demise – or whatever – had affected me. Her words cleansed my soul, and brought back my self-confidence.

I picked her up and headed slowly toward the doorway.

They were all there – a group of wizened priests, now joined by a host of nuns – and of course there was Guy Grant.

I paused on the top stair and looked down at them.

The glow of the pale moon reflected off their shocked faces.

I saw some of the nuns crossing themselves quickly, retreating behind their priests. The old men were very still as if turned to stone. I began to descend slowly, and Grant broke free, rushing forward on unsteady legs, blindly thrusting out his hands.

GUY GRANT

(shocked, hopeful)

Sam? Is this Sam? Is she okay ?

BOAT

(wearily)

She’s okay, man, but I think she needs to be taken to the hospital now. She needs medical care urgently.

Grant practically shoved the coat off the girl’s face and peered down at her.

SAMANTHA

(whispering, voice tiny)

Guy? My love is that you?

Her voice broke, and her bony frame started to tremble fiercely as she begins to sob and tried unsuccessfully to put her spindle arms around his neck.

Grant gathered her into his arms immediately, and then he did a most god-awful thing, his old lousy trick which had freaked me out just a few hours earlier.

He began to bawl like a bloody baby again!

His face was screwed up in a funny way, and his shoulders heaved violently.

Tears the size of raindrops drenched his cheeks, and his nose became all stuffy and runny. He cried in a great voice, saying things that came out all silly and gibberish.

He was holding her so tightly that I feared he would crush her to death.

He fell to his knees, burying his face in her rope of a neck and bawled his heart out.

I didn’t know what was wrong with him.

I had expected him to coo to her, or maybe even touch her face tenderly, or kiss her eyes, nose and stuff. I had expected him to rock her gently in his arms as he turned his eyes heavenward, a perfect picture of a soul who had witnessed divine intervention.

All that would’ve been a bit abnormal considering the near-skeleton that the lady was. Maybe he was used to her looking like that, and wasn’t the least bit shocked, but any other way of reacting to her freedom would’ve been okay.

But instead he was screaming his head off like a gutted boar. That was not normal.

He screamed, squeezing her ever so tightly.

GUY GRANT

Oh, Boo-Boo!

Boo-Boo?

Did he just say something like Boo-Boo?

Man, that beat it all!

Or, maybe, it was some sort of endearment they used for each other.

Suddenly one of her skeletal hands stole out of the confines of the coat and traversed tentatively across his back to entwine itself in his hair, and then it fell back down to weakly, pausing briefly to pat his ribs, and then it finally dropped out of sight, entwined in other parts obscured by his back.

Hell, if that was love then it was something really funny!

The priests knelt one by one and looked at the girl, and each time they stood up they looked at me.

In their eyes was disbelief and confusion…and yes, a little uneasiness.

Father Sebastian came forward tentatively, standing close to me, peering into my face with rheumy eyes.

FATHER SEBASTIAN

(humbly)

Who’re you, stranger? Who really are you, and where did you come from?

BOAT

That is of no import, Father. Just call an ambulance, if you could, please.

I was suddenly drained of all strength, wishing only for a warm bed.

As it turned out, the parish had a van equipped as an ambulance. Guy rode in the back with his Boo-Boo, and I drove his car.

I didn’t go to the hospital with them, though.

I went back to the hotel, slammed the door shut, and was asleep even before my head touched the pillow.

The rains woke me up the following morning – that, and a persistent but gentle knocking on the door.

It dragged me slowly from the sweet confines of sleep. It was raining with a howling fury, and through the huge windows I could see its slanted form piercing the air like millions of silver spears.

I rolled over slowly and looked at the ceiling, scowling a little angrily at the door. The dulled sounds of the rain and the cool air almost seduced me back to sleep, but I got up groggily and approached the door, stifling a gigantic yawn in the process.

I didn’t know the last time I had had such a complete sleep.

I had been scared my sleep would be marred by terrible nightmares in which demons with sickly yellow eyes chased me, but after discarding all my clothes and throwing myself on the bed sleep had taken me into its warm embrace…and I was gone.

HOSPITAL TRIP

I had been exhilarated, yes, about my ability to send that piece of dung to hell and back, and I was extremely relieved that I still had the gift.

The great nagging question left was why I couldn’t see the damn demons anymore.

Before my confrontation with the Legion I had seen them everywhere, terrorizing me in town, riding inside me, inside people, on the streets, on the heads of people, under the skirts of women!

I had even seen that Demon Serpent inside Veronica!

But now it seems they had all taken one great hibernation…or decided to quit earth altogether.

Questions plagued my mind, but I knew that soon I would see that yellow-backed Anderson again, and he would provide answers to the blanks.

When I threw the door open she was standing there…a blast of fresh beauty after a night of grim horror.

She was in black jeans and a fetching pink top, a simple outfit for a long ride, but that combination looked quite astounding on her.

I gazed at the soft curves of her face, and it seemed to me that somebody had taken great pains to carve out her features and painstakingly smoothed out her skin. I had never seen such smooth, clear silky skin.

Her feet were encased in some exotic sandals, the sort that obviously came from Africa, and it added an extra allure to her whole being.

She raised one eyebrow as she looked at me, and for the first time in my life I felt really uncomfortable in my boxers. Her eyes stayed fixed on my face, but I could see from the warm little spots on her cheeks that my near-nudity wasn’t sitting very well with her.

NICOLE

(softly)

I thought we would have an early drive this morning, Yaw,

I had to strain to hear her above the din of the rain…and the pounding of my heart.

I was a little taken aback by the fact that I found her so overpoweringly attractive, and that all I wanted to do was take her into my arms and breathe in her cleanliness.

Instead I stood aside and bid her enter.

BOAT

(apologetically)

I had a late night. Do come in. Taken breakfast yet?

NICOLE

I ordered breakfast for us. They would bring it here.

She entered, and she kept her gaze perfectly level, now directed at the little television mounted on the wall.

CNN was on, and on the lower right hand of the screen was an image of a red miniature headphone with tiny diagonally-crossed lines, showing that the television had been muted.

BOAT

(smiling)

Make yourself comfortable. I’ll just take a little shower, and then we’ll have breakfast.

She sat down in the deep sofa and crossed her legs. She still refused to look at me.

NICOLE

(softly)

And after breakfast?

I knew it wasn’t a serious question; she just wanted to make small talk to mask the little tension flaring up between us.

I smiled bleakly.

BOAT

After breakfast we take a little trip to the Jackson Peak Hospital. There’s somebody I got to see briefly, and then we shall be on our way.

She said nothing; she just picked up the remote control, deactivated the silent mode of the television, and leaned back to listen.

After a moment I went to the bathroom, and for the few minutes I spent in the shower I had funny little daydreams about her soaping my back and smiling adoringly into my eyes as she coyly made indecent gestures at that part of me under the water.

It just showed how pervert the human mind really could be.

We had a beautiful time eating breakfast, the atmosphere relaxed and quite friendly.

We checked out a while later, and drove out.

The rain had let off a little by the time we got to the hospital.

I informed Nicole that I had met Grant the other night and that I had helped convey his sick wife to hospital. I implied that Grant was an old acquaintance, and that I needed to say goodbye to him.

There was no need to freak her out, and maybe she wouldn’t really understand, and might think I was some kind of freak. Somehow I was beginning to find her opinion of me really important.

It looked more like somebody’s idea of heaven than a hospital. It was a sprawling white edifice made up of more glass than concrete. It was walled, and the grounds were mostly made up of green: grass, plants, trees, flowers, shrubs.

It was spotless, everything looking so ordered that it was almost bizarre. It might have appealed to others, but to me it was too perfect. The visitors’ lounge was huge and luxuriously furnished.

The walls were off-white and had pretty drawings of serene places hanging on them. There were a lot of deep comfortable chairs, an LCD television mounted on one wall, water dispensers at vantage points.

The carpet was soft blue, and here too there were plants at the intersection of the walls, and even a small vertical aquarium. The tables and magazine racks were of equal taste.

Altogether it was a warm, pleasant room, designed to brink inner peace to suffering visitors.

A doctor in a pristine lab coat was sitting at the far end of the lounge talking to two young men – brothers, by the looks of them. An old man was stretched out on one of the long settees, an arm thrown across his face, snoring gently and sucking in saliva once in a while.

Just inside the room were a man and a woman, sitting facing each other.

The man, around forty years, was huge and had a pugnacious face. His hair was cropped close to his skull, and his jaw jutted out as if he found the whole world one stinking place.

His close-set eyes were narrowed as he leaned forward to say something to the woman, who flinched at the sound of his voice. She was slender and not too tall, dressed in a wrinkled flowery dress.

Her hair was disheveled, and she was clutching a dirty white tear-sodden handkerchief in her hands.

Her eyes, lips and nose were swollen from excessive tears. She flinched from the man each time he spoke, and she sat as if she wanted to disappear into the chair.

She kept her eyes down and cried silently. The man leaned forward and grabbed her chin in his big fingers, forcing her head up sharply and cruelly.

She gasped and trembled as he grated out something at her.

I looked at him…and I hated him that instant.

I headed toward the receptionist, who was sitting with the right posture behind a huge transparent glass, her spectacles set firmly on the bridge of her nose, her face wearing the bright but false fixed smile.

Just then a door at the other side of the reception opened, and Guy Grant came in. He paused briefly to survey the room, and then he came toward me, his hand extended and a huge grin on his face.

He was in black slacks and a white shirt. There was a spring in his step, and his face was so radiant that I thought it would burst into two if he smiled any broader.

I had called him that I was on my way to say good-bye to him, and he had promised to meet me at the visitors’ lounge.

He shook my hand, and then he drew me into an embrace.

 

To be continued…

©Aaron Ansah – Agyeman

All Rights Reserved.

 

ALL EPISODES OF THE SECOND SIGHT

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