The Devil's Lullaby

by Chris Scalise

  The Devil’s Lullaby

  By Chris Scalise

  Copyright © 2019 Chris Scalise

  Cover design © 2019 Chris Scalise

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means-except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews-without written permission from its publisher. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  For Megan, my everything

  1

  “The devil is alive in this room tonight,” the exorcist bellowed from his podium.

  His name was Dominic Maffiore, though most knew him as the Las Vegas Exorcist. His tiny chapel on Las Vegas Boulevard was barely noticeable to most passersby on their way to the Vegas Strip, but to his followers, this was sacred ground. His unorthodox ministry attracted broken souls from all across the world. On this night alone, his guest book was signed by visitors from Bremerton, Washington; Lake Mary, Florida; Helsingborg, Sweden; and as far away as Queensland, Australia. And this was a very typical Thursday night.

  One of his most anxious congregants on this particular evening, however, came to the small, wooden chapel from no more than twenty miles away. Her name was Cassidy Sinclair, and she was a resident of the nearby community of Summerlin. She lived with her father high in the hills overlooking southern Nevada, in one of the most opulent mansions nestled in one of the most exclusive gated communities in Clark County.

  On the surface, she had it all. But something was stirring within her. Something dark. Something that only Dominic Maffiore could defeat. Or so she hoped. This was her third visit to the exorcist, but while the previous two trips had been uneventful, this one felt strangely different.

  Dominic stepped down from his raised platform and slowly peered from one end of the room to the other, observing the forty-or-so trembling guests who lined the wooden pews. As the crowd stood on their feet in absolute silence, Dominic stepped across the center aisle and quietly stared off into space like an attorney in an intense courtroom drama.

  His mere presence was enough to bring the most ardent skeptic to his knees, but it wasn’t just his fierce gaze. The man stood more than six-and-a-half feet tall, and his broad frame only made him even more intimidating. He didn’t appear particularly muscular or overweight. His naturally large build just had a density and firmness that resembled solid rock more than human flesh. Of course, it didn’t hurt that his perfectly tailored black suit hugged every curve of his body. The coat, the slacks, the vest, the tie; all black. He certainly knew how to project an appropriately macabre image for himself.

  He ended his slow march in the center of the room and rested his feet on the cold, tiled floor. The shiny faux marble seemed visibly out of place in a house of aggressive spiritual warfare, but it had come with the property. At one time, this church was one of many fly-by-night Vegas wedding chapels where impetuous couples would recite their vows only to wake up the next morning with the most regretful hangovers of their lives.

  When Dominic purchased the property, he saw to it that the eggshell-white walls were replaced with a dark oak color, but the rest of the interior was about the same, from the white pillars on either side of the platform to the prominent wooden cross hanging behind the podium.

  “Father God,” he prayed, his voice echoing through the room. “We come before you tonight, battered, broken. You see the people in this room; you know the battles they’ve been facing. The enemy seeks to destroy them, but we claim dominion over this darkness in Jesus’ name.”

  Several in attendance shouted “Amen!” Most had their eyes closed. Some had tears streaming down their cheeks. Cassidy just stared down at the tiled floor and trembled from head to toe. She could feel her inner-darkness awakening, as though antagonized by the preacher’s theatrical prayer.

  “Father, your Word tells us that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. And so we ask you to deliver all those who need your anointing tonight. We ask you to destroy the shackles of demonic possession, and to cast your light upon the people in this room. I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength, and I bind these evil spirits in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

  More shouts of “Amen” echoed through the sanctuary, and several in attendance were now dropping to their knees in tears. Cassidy held her breath in the hopes that the trembling would cease, but it only grew worse. She felt a vibration in her throat, silent at first but then faintly audible. It was like a soft growl. But where was it coming from? She was overcome with a sense of hope, desperation, longing, and then suddenly...unspeakable rage. She wanted to murder everyone in the room, especially that disgusting fucking piece of shit in the black suit.

  Oh, God...what’s happening to me?

  Dominic paced the center aisle once again. After another brief silence, he returned to the pulpit and retrieved the black, leather-bound Bible from his podium. Taking a deep breath, he raised the Bible into the air like an Olympian showing off his new gold medal to an eager crowd.

  “This is a house of God,” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “You demons are not welcome here. Show yourselves!”

  A thin man in his seventies cried out from the front row and then fell to the ground. His convulsions resembled a seizure, but Cassidy knew he was not seizing. At least not in a clinical sense. She knew she was on the precipice of such convulsions herself, and it terrified her. It was like the feeling that one experiences just before a painful bout of vomiting. You know that it’s going to happen with or without your consent, but you’re terrified to give in to the release. You know it’s going to hurt like hell, but all you can do is wait.

  Dominic rushed to the writhing man with a look of righteous indignation in his eyes. “Tell me your name,” he screamed, leaning over the man. But he wasn’t asking for the name of the victim.

  The man turned over and pulled himself into a crawling position. He was still shaking, and it appeared as though he were holding on to the tiles for dear life. He wept as more than a dozen in the congregation rushed forward to pray over him. Soon, Cassidy’s view of the frail gentleman was blocked by the crowd that surrounded him. She heard him emit a thunderous growl, but then all sound faded away, replaced by an intense ringing in both of her ears. The demon was seizing control of all her senses.

  She tried to cry out for Dominic, but no words would come out of her mouth. It was like drowning in a pool of water while the lifeguard obliviously attended to another swimmer. There was nothing she could do. Except silently pray. But she feared that praying would antagonize the devil even more.

  Can the demon read my thoughts? she wondered silently.

  Every thought that has ever entered your filthy little mind, a voice in her head echoed back.

  The ringing in her ears grew louder, more high-pitched. It felt like her ears were about to start bleeding. She covered her ears with her trembling hands, but the now-muffled ringing was even more terrifying. Now it really did feel like she was drowning, and she could almost feel the water entering her lungs. The pounding in her chest was unbearable. Her first instinct was to call for an ambulance, but her vocal cords were incapable of sound and no doctor of medicine could cure what was ailing her.

  She fell abruptly to her knees, smacking her forehead on the edge of the pew just in front of her as she descended. The impact was agonizing, but it only distracted her for about three seconds. Then the voice reemerged.

  You’re fucking garbage.

  Filthy slut.

  God can’t fucking hear you.

  She was well-acquainted with
the voice, but there was something different about it this time. It was audible. As she opened her eyes, she realized that the words were coming out of her own mouth. She had barely recognized the voice because it wasn’t her own. It was deep, gravelly, menacing. It emerged like a hateful growl, stunning the people around her.

  It was certainly an unusual sight, even for those familiar with Dominic’s ministry. Here was a thin, attractive young woman who couldn’t have been more than twenty-five years old, pounding her head against a bench and screaming guttural obscenities. She looked like a grown-up Shirley Temple with an angelic face and an unassuming presence, but she bellowed like a death metal singer high on cocaine. Her designer blue jeans were dirtied by the hard ground, and her bright, long-sleeved T-shirt was now covered in sweat and tears.

  Through the ringing in her ears, she could hear the muffled sound of someone behind her calling for help. Maybe there was a God after all. She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up. She felt a thin stream of blood trickling down her forehead, and she could faintly see Dominic running toward her. The lifeguard had finally arrived.

  The preacher grabbed her hand and slowly pulled her to her feet. He truly was anointed. His touch alone caused her shaking to stop and the ringing in her ears to subside. The demon had retreated, if just momentarily. She took a deep breath and looked around. The man in his seventies was once again seated in his pew, and Dominic’s young female assistant was bringing him a bottle of water. No one was even paying attention to the old man anymore. At this point, all eyes were on Cassidy Sinclair.

  Dominic placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and gazed into her eyes. Up close, he was extremely handsome despite his age. His salt-and-pepper hair suggested that he was in his late fifties or early sixties, but the color made him appear distinguished rather than old. Perhaps that was also due to the remarkable absence of wrinkles on his face. His faint five o’clock shadow further seemed to give him an air of power.

  “Everyone,” Dominic announced, “this is Cassidy. She’s been to two other deliverance services at this church, but this is the first time her captor has made an appearance. Tonight may be the night we set her free once and for all.”

  Several amens echoed through the crowd. Dominic’s words were extremely comforting, but it wasn’t just his words. He had a way of speaking confidently and deliberately, enunciating every syllable and pronouncing his words in such a way that was not quite British but not quite American. It reminded her of the character Frasier from television. She had learned about this manner of speaking while studying theater at Juilliard. Her professors had referred to it as a Mid-Atlantic accent, a contrived style of pronunciation once taught in acting schools and fancy prep schools. How Dominic had picked it up was a mystery to Cassidy. He didn’t seem like a rich WASP, and he surely wasn’t an actor.

  Dominic turned to Cassidy once again. He pulled a handkerchief from the inner-pocket of his coat and dabbed the blood on her forehead. “Cassidy, I know you’re very afraid right now, but I’m going to need you to trust me, okay?”

  She didn’t like where he was going with this.

  “In order to set you free from this bondage, I’m going to need to call out the demon.”

  She could feel herself shaking again. This time, it was all her. “No, no, no…” she quietly muttered.

  Now he had both hands on her shoulders. “You have nothing to be afraid of,” he assured her. “You’re briefly going to feel yourself losing control of your body. I promise you, I will be right here the entire time, and I will not leave your side until the exorcism is complete. Do you understand?”

  She frantically nodded her head and wiped the tears from her eyes.

  Dominic released his hands from her shoulders and stared directly into her eyes for nearly a minute, as though daring the demon to come forth. Cassidy’s breathing remained heavy, but she didn’t sense any spiritual disturbances. But then Dominic opened his mouth to speak, and all hell broke loose.

  “There’s no use in hiding,” Dominic shouted, his gaze still fixed on Cassidy’s tearful eyes. “I can sense your presence. I can also sense your fear. You shudder in the presence of the Almighty God. James 2:19. The very name of Jesus Christ is enough to destroy you, exposing you for the powerless fraud that you are. Now I demand to know who you are and why you have chosen this young woman as your victim.”

  Cassidy could feel her heart rate increasing once again. There was a growing tightness in her chest, but she didn’t sense the rumbling that had previously knocked her to the floor. The demon was standing its ground.

  “What is your name?” Dominic shrieked at the top of his lungs.

  Cassidy clenched her fists as a strange numbness overwhelmed her fingertips. Suddenly, her lower jaw locked up. It felt like the jawbone was trying to break away from her face. She could no longer inhale. Her breath was involuntarily pushing its way out of her closed mouth despite having no means of escape. It came out in a growl, soft at first, but then menacing. The demon was returning to the surface.

  “You don’t scare me, you bottom-feeding child of Satan,” Dominic remarked. “I’m here to tell you that you chose the wrong victim. So what are you? I can already tell you’re too weak to be a demon of addiction. You’re too pathetic to be a demon of lust. No, there’s nothing inside you but fear and rage, and that usually means one thing. You prey on the abused, don’t you? You saw a vulnerable young woman with a history of abuse, and you pounced on her like a lion.” His voice once again escalated to a scream. “Am I basically in the ballpark, demon? Answer me!”

  The word “abuse” triggered something in Cassidy. That single word robbed her of what little control remained within her. As soon as Dominic said it, she could feel herself fading into the background of her own existence. The demon was officially calling the shots now.

  “I’ll teach you the fucking meaning of abuse, cocksucker!” the demon said in a low-pitched hiss. It spoke through Cassidy’s mouth, but Cassidy had no say in the matter.

  The preacher was unfazed by the demon’s threat. He raised his leather Bible and pressed it firmly against Cassidy’s forehead. “Tell me your name,” Dominic shouted.

  “Fuck you!” the demon growled.

  The monster gazed across the room and was greeted by unanimous terror in the eyes of the congregation. It was beautiful. Cassidy’s mouth widened involuntarily into a cruel smile, but it was the demon—and not she—who got off on the fear of the others in the room. The only one who didn’t appear afraid was Dominic.

  Dominic pressed the Bible more firmly against Cassidy’s head. “Tell me your name,” he screamed even more loudly.

  “Abaddon,” the demon finally muttered in the form of a painful cry.

  Dominic pulled the Bible away. “Abaddon. The angel of the bottomless pit. I should have known. Well, Abaddon, I’ve vanquished you before, and I’m about to do it again.”

  The demon cried out. A thick coating of drool oozed from Cassidy’s chin, and her clenched teeth were on full display. It looked as though she were about to attack the preacher, but Dominic remained unaffected.

  “Abaddon,” he said calmly, seemingly knowing that the fight was over. “You are a fallen angel and a coward, and I bind you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” He raised his Bible in the air as he said the words “Holy Spirit.”

  The demon cried out again, this time so loudly that many in the congregation had to cover their ears.

  Dominic once again placed the Bible against Cassidy’s forehead. “And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony. Thanks be to God, who gives us victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Demon, you already lost the battle from the moment that Christ was resurrected. Release this woman at once and return to the bottomless pit where you belong. You have been defeated in the name of Jesus Christ.”

  Another piercing scream emerged from Cassidy’s diaphragm. After that, everything faded to black.

 
When Cassidy opened her eyes, she was lying on the cold tile floor. Dominic was quietly praying over her, and two ushers were holding up her head and shoulders. When it became apparent that she was conscious, Dominic’s young female assistant handed her a cold bottle of water and affectionately caressed her shoulder.

  “You’re going to feel a little dizzy for a few minutes,” the girl whispered to Cassidy, “but you’re going to be okay. You’ve been delivered.”

  Cassidy nodded. She had only spoken to the girl once or twice, but she remembered that her name was Autumn. The girl wore black-rimmed glasses, and her hair color seemed to shift from light brown to red depending on how the light hit it. She was about Cassidy’s age, but Cassidy somehow looked a decade older—a consequence of living in constant terror and never sleeping.

  As Cassidy took a huge gulp of water and the room slowly came back into focus, the last thing she could remember was Dominic placing his hands on her shoulders and telling her to trust him. The rest was like a drunken haze.

  As she sat up, the congregation erupted into applause. Dominic wrapped his arms around her and gave her a big hug. “God is good,” he whispered in her ear. “Never forget that.”

  Autumn and the ushers helped her to her feet, and she wiped the sweat from her forehead. She took two steps forward and returned to her seat. The room did appear to be spinning, but she wasn’t troubled by the sensation. She felt like a substantial weight had been lifted. She was free. She quietly said a prayer of thanks and then smiled at Dominic.

  The preacher continued his service, and two more people came forward to receive healing. One man had a few brief convulsions, but there were no more violent outbursts. Cassidy remained until the end of the service because she sensed it would be rude to leave early, especially considering what Dominic had done for her.

  When it was all over, Cassidy made her way to the exit doors. She practically skipped through the chapel like a carefree child. She wanted to dance in the streets. Dominic stood at the exit door and shook hands with everyone as they departed. When it was Cassidy’s turn, she threw her arms around his neck and whispered “Thank you” in his ear.