4. The devil in me.
4
The devil in me.
“A demon’s healing abilities stays a mystery to most scientists studying the subject, as they have no real specimen to dissect and observe. Their soul—or Qi—is known to possess an incredible amount of energy, that often translate to raw power—or magic, in lack of a better word—in the hosts strong enough to survive the invasion. What characteristics of their home world make them so much more powerful than humans? Do the favorable conditions on Earth create weaker lifeforms? As an exorcist working for the United States of America, your job is to protect humanity from the demonic threat. But don’t forget that any intel you might gleam from your interactions with demons is also of great importance. Your field reports must be thorough, and not all demonic ravings are to be ignored. Some might provide us with valuable knowledge on the enemy.”
-Extract from the State Exorcist’s Manual, edition of 2047.
WILLIAMSBURG, VIRGINIA, 2033
I stayed a week in the hospital, and my father only came to visit once. He sat at the end of my bed, his eyes two dark holes sucking out the light in the room. He was exhausted and done with all that mess. He wanted to move on, and so he did. He kissed me on the forehead and went home.
I’d missed my mother and brothers’ funerals, I’d been deemed too weak to attend. After all, I had an open wound around my throat. He’s lucky to be alive , the doctors whispered in the hallway. He heals surprisingly fast . Back then, demon possessions weren’t common knowledge yet. Nobody raised the alarm about the strange child on the hospital bed who had survived the House Shaw Massacre.
My demon—that I still ignored to be one—was quiet. I almost convinced myself that I’d imagined it all. Until the last day, when two special agents entered my room.
They kept a healthy distance and sat on the plastic chairs. They wore normal clothes—the woman a tailored skirt and long-sleeved shirt, the man a casual suit—but they showed me their badges. I thought I was in trouble.
“Hello, Jonah. How are you?” asked the woman.
I was feeling surprisingly good. I wanted to get out of bed already and feel the sun on my skin, to run in the forest and smell the earth and the plants. And I was starving. The hospital’s portions were too small for my growing appetite.
But I didn’t know what the two agents wanted, so I just shrugged.
“We would like to ask you a few questions, Jonah,” she continued. “About the night of the… incident.”
I nodded slowly, my eyes darting between them.
“Was there someone with you that night?” the man asked. “Someone with your mother? A friend of hers, perhaps?”
“ Tell them yes,” said the voice in my head, startling me. “ Make up a story, child .”
But I had been taught that lying turned things ugly.
“No,” I said.
The woman smiled sadly. “You don’t remember who did this to you?” She gestured at my neck.
“I do,” I said, reaching for the bandage around my throat.
“Who was it?” pushed the man.
“My mother. She… used a knife.”
The agents exchanged looks. My mother hadn’t been a suspect until then. She’d been found dead in the basement; she was on the list of victims.
The woman frowned. “Can you tell us what you remember, Jonah?”
“ Do not tell them your part in it ,” the voice in my head warned. “If they suspect it was you, they will burn you at the stake, child. And we do not want that .”
But it wasn’t me! I wanted to scream. It was you!
I told them a half-truth.
“My mother… she said we could play a game in the basement. And… she asked me to stand in the circle.” I started to sob. I had loved my mother, as twisted as she’d been. “And she sang. And then there was the knife. She cut me… and—” I choked on my tears.
That wasn’t news to them. They had found my blood on the basement floor near my mother’s body. They knew where I’d been cut.
A sharp pain exploded in my chest. I would come to realize it was the demon’s doing. A warning, of a sort, to always do as he instructed. A reminder that my body wasn’t entirely my own anymore.
“Do not weep for your kin, child ,” said my demon. “ They were undeserving . Your mother was ready to trade you for me, but her soul was tasteless. And through your memory, I saw your siblings’ cruelty . Tell the agents that you woke up later and that your mother was already dead. ”
And I did. I gave them an easy lie.
They’d found my bloody imprints on the stairs and going up to my brothers’ bedrooms, as if I had checked on them only to find them already dead. I was a seven-year-old boy who had shaken hands with death. Nobody expected me to be the perpetrator, especially when the wounds inflicted spoke of great strength.
The agents thanked me and left. I’d never see them again. They’d soon be crawling under the cases of demonic possessions from all over the country.
The House Shaw Massacre would later be said to have been one of the first of such cases. The official report was that my mother had been in contact with some Satanic cult, and an unknown suspect had used her and me as sacrifices for the demonic ritual. The killer was never found.
I watched cartoons on the big screen from my hospital bed, unaware of the news all over the world reporting the first cases of demonic possessions. Satanic rituals and strange behaviors . It would take a few years for the authorities and the public to understand the threat.
Hell was real, and it was coming to Earth.
My father picked me up at the hospital at the end of my stay. He had no choice; only a parent could sign me out. But as soon as we reached the mansion, a woman I had never seen before welcomed us at the door. She was tall and thin, with graying hair and a tight smile.
“Good morning, Jonah. I’m your new governess and tutor,” she said.
And that was that. My father, unwilling to care for his surviving child, had hired someone to do it. He couldn’t stand to be in my presence. I reminded him of what he’d lost. He was already looking to sell the house and move away from the massacre.
As I walked in, I was assaulted by the smell of death, poorly disguised by detergent. Someone had cleaned the place once the police had been done with the crime scene. But my heightened senses could still make out the nauseous fragrance of blood, iron and decay.
I cried in the middle of the hall, my tears falling on the white marble floor.
“ Stop it ,” said the demon. “ Do not waste your sorrow .”
It only brought more tears. I clamped a hand over my mouth to stop the sobs.
The new governess—Ms. Bates—fed me lunch. I was ravenous. She watched with a wary look, certainly wondering about my manners. I was a third child, and I’d been left to my own devices for a long time. During my absence, the cook had changed. The previous one apparently couldn’t handle working in a house of tragedy.
My demon was quiet for the rest of the day. Ms. Bates explained that I could take the weekend off to rest and acclimate, but starting the coming week I would be homeschooled. Our family was the talk of the city, and I couldn’t just go back to school. A few people thought we were Satanists, like my mother. My father had to hire security to protect our house from unwanted visitors. Panic was spreading all over the world as more strange cases like our own made the news.
I was ushered to bed after dinner, my protestations cut short by Ms. Bates’ stern look. My bedroom was still the same, the third upstairs. On the way up, I didn’t dare to take a look into my brothers’ rooms. The memory of killing them was too fresh. I knew it hadn’t been me, but I still felt and witnessed every second of it, like a dream in which you have no control over your actions.
I went to bed and kept the lights on. The house was too quiet, and I almost missed the hospital bed. It took me a while, but I eventually managed to fall asleep.
Only to be awakened a few hours later. When I came to my senses, I was going down the stairs. My demon had taken over once again, just like the night of the massacre.
I panicked and screamed, but no sound escaped my mouth. I was a prisoner of my own body once again.
“ Shush now, child ,” the demon said with my voice. “ All is well .”
He walked us downstairs and straight to the kitchen. We were still ravenous, even after dinner. My small body needed fuel for all the mutations it was going through.
I would learn years later that demons rarely choose to possess children because they tire and die too easily from the invasion. They’re more pliable to mutations, but it takes a toll, and the demon can’t take control too often. Which explained why my demon had been so quiet since the incident.
He walked us through the dark kitchen without a care in the world. I watched in horror as he opened the giant fridge. I’d never been allowed to go through it. It was for adults only, even if I knew my brothers had often stolen food at night. I got blamed for it half of the time.
He took out leftovers from dinner—some mustard rabbit with potatoes. Then ham, raw sausages, cake, cream… He pulled out everything that could be quickly consumed and put it on the counter. He ate and ate. The hunger slowly subsided, and my body was finally satiated for the first time in days. The kitchen turned into a huge mess as he dropped the empty packages on the floor.
Until, at last, the worst happened. Ms. Bates found us. She walked into the dark kitchen, screeching like a banshee.
“What do you think you’re doing, young man?” She didn’t even take time to turn on the light. She rushed in and grabbed my wrist in a vise. “You insolent little—”
But her next words died as the demon sank my teeth inside her arm. He bit down hard, and I tasted blood on my tongue—salty and metallic. Ms. Bates gasped and pulled away sharply, ripping her own flesh in the process. She fell on the floor and crawled away. Her back hit the kitchen counter, and she wailed, eyes on us.
The demon spat the chunk of flesh on the tiled floor.
“The Devil!” she screamed. She made the sign of the cross over her chest. She was illuminated by the refrigerator’s pale light. Her face was twisted by fear, her lips trembling. The sleeve of her nightdress was now soaked in blood.
My demon laughed with my voice, giving it a husky quality.
Ms. Bates moved to the side to get away from us, and I saw my reflection in the oven’s glass. My eyes glowed in the darkness, and my smile was red. There was blood on my chin. I cringed internally. She was right. The Devil was in me.
I screamed from the far reaches of my mind. The demon’s smile dropped, and he grabbed my head in hands. I was causing him pain. We fell to our knees.
Ms. Bates used that opportunity to escape.
The demon regained control, but I could feel his astonishment.
“ You are strong, child, ” he said in the quiet kitchen.
He took us all over the house, looking for the terrified governess. But she had run away. He went dormant again, leaving me to clean up the mess in the kitchen. I was exhausted, but I managed to put everything back in the fridge or in the trash and clean the blood on the floor with paper towels. I dragged myself upstairs and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
When morning came, Ms. Bates was still absent. It took three days before my father officially announced that she was fired and threw all of her things away. He hired a new governess by the end of the week.
We must have scared the living Hell out of Ms. Bates. The police never came to our door.