It has come to my attention that your group deals in situations like the one I am currently in. Studies into the subject of possession, especially from the texts you have published, have led me to believe that my current state may be that of a demonic possession. Having strong enough will to hold its influences back for now, I would like to request that your team work your “magic” on me. I have been tracking your group and have planned a meeting accordingly. Please meet me at the hotel on the hilltree stretch. i will pay handsomely if this being is taken out of me before it takes me completely.
C.H.
The group whispered amongst themselves as they scanned the last line and Tennesen glared at them sternly. “We do not charge for our work!” The priest’s voice was not the sort to be easily ignored, and the team quickly quieted down and sat upright, continuing their meal.
When the meal was finished, they piled into the van and drove out the fifteen miles to Hilltree lane. The hotel was a dump at best; the brick walls worn with time and lack of care, some sections crumbling from under their own weight. The doors were, Tennesen assumed, originally red, but had been peeled of their original hue to show several underlying layers of black, green, and yellow beneath the newer red. The worn wooden surface was visible where the chipped paint had peeled the most.
It was then that Tennesen realized that the room number had not been specified. This thought was soon waned, however, when the door to room eighteen opened and a gloved hand waved them in. Skunk shivered and gripped his laptop case tightly against his chest, as was his usual ritual when a new case presented itself—the team called this his “Scooby Doo complex”. Christopher put a fresh magazine into his handgun—the make and model of which were unknown to Tennesen who was bored and disgusted by such things. Courtney was reluctant at first to come out of the van and into the daylight and Tennesen waited patiently as she worked up the nerve. While he knew the sun wouldn’t kill her for the moment she’d be in it, it had become clear to him that vampires and the sun were like cats and water. RJ gripped his rosary and prayed in Spanish while Gweneth stared off into the distance. Shift was sitting on the van’s hood and chuckling at nothing in particular, then suddenly stopped and began to head for the door from which the beckoning hand had emerged.
Tennesen had always admired Shift’s bravery and eagerness to begin a new assignment.
Christopher holstered his gun and jogged up to walk beside Tennesen while RJ walked briskly behind. Skunk and Gweneth slowly approached the door, both wanting nothing more than to just stay out of the whole affair yet not being able to stop themselves from helping. There was an invisible bond between the entire team that brought them into a singular purpose, and none could ignore or abandon their part. Though Skunk and Gweneth were terrified, they were by no means hesitant.
Room eighteen was dark. The shades had been pulled over the single window, and, as if that wasn’t enough, covered with the room’s mattresses and blankets in an attempt to avoid any rings of light that may break over the makeshift barricade. All but one of the lights was turned off, and the one that was on had been knocked on its side pointing against the closest wall, providing very little illumination.
Once the group had gotten over the discomfort of the darkness, a new one presented itself; the smell. At first, it could only be described as ‘damp’—like a wet and mildew-covered gym towel—but the odor went deeper than that; a reek like a piece of pork left to rot in the sun clung to the air and brought bile rising up the throats of the team.
RJ poked fun at Skunk when he’d walked in, “Smells like you’ve already been here!”
Skunk frowned and rolled his eyes before he sat in the corner by the covered window and opened his laptop, bringing up various sources for easy access if Tennesen needed. Christopher followed and stood nearby with his arms crossed in front of his chest. If any harm was about to fall on Skunk or any of the others, it was his job to do what it took to protect them. Gweneth sat in a nearby chair and looked around curiously while RJ stood next to the old TV and gripped his rosary tightly, continuing to pray. Tennesen stood firmly in the center of the room and looked at Courtney, who nodded once and stood still, occasionally looking in various directions as if being called by unheard voices.
She chuckled suddenly. “He’s in the bathroom,” she whispered.
The rest of the group breathed a sigh of relief. If the possessed individual was simply using the bathroom, maybe he would be less hostile then they had anticipated. There was a flush behind the closed door and a growl of aggravation came from within as a wet splashing sound could be heard. Finally the door opened and C.H. emerged, groaning and clutching his stomach. For a moment he seemed to forget the company he’d invited in.
RJ smiled and held his hand up in a still wave. “Howdy.” Despite his upbeat greeting the nervousness rang loudly in his voice.
C.H. looked up, surprised. “What? Oh, yes, hello… thank you for coming so quickly.” He stretched his jaw and clutched his stomach tighter.
Still bathed in shadow, the team was unable to make out anything else but the outline of their client as the sound of running water continued and the stench of feces filled the air. If the victim was aware of the rising odor he showed no signs of it and reluctantly stepped forward, finally shutting the door behind him—the sight of an overflowing toilet and the growing pool of water and waste on the floor quickly becoming little more than an uncomfortable memory and a lingering smell. C.H. groaned once more and slowly released his obviously aching stomach before looking up at the crowd and taking another step forward. As he advanced, Courtney narrowed her eyes and shivered slightly.
“He’s a sang!” she turned to whisper to Tennesen.
Tennesen frowned and looked once more at their client. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “At least, he was.” She took an uncertain look in their client’s direction and shivered again.
The priest narrowed his eyes. A sangsuiga vampire was hardly one to be easily possessed, and even then, they would rarely call upon the help of somebody else. Courtney backed away slowly and stood next to Christopher. While she was an auric vampire and fed on psychic energy, sangs fed on blood, and though they were of the same background, she was terrified of them.
Leaning towards Skunk, she whispered in his ear. He nodded slowly before beginning to type furiously on the keyboard, bringing up new files and pages of information to aide in this particular case. Christopher, overhearing the message, slowly undid his holster’s clasp and stood at the ready.
“Tell Clint Eastwood there that that won’t be necessary.” C.H. grumbled from the darkness, “I know you’ve identified me and I tell you with all honesty that I did not call you here just to bring you harm.”
Tennesen nodded slowly and motioned to Christopher, who re-clasped the holster and made an aggravated sound. There was another twitch from C.H. in the shadows and he moved forward and sat on the bed that hadn’t been torn apart.
Tennesen squinted to try and get a better view of their new case but was unable to make out any distinct features. “I rather dislike all this darkness, mister…”
“C.H. is fine.”
Tennesen cleared his throat, “Of course. I was wondering if I could perhaps turn some lights on, maybe move these mattresses…” he stepped towards the blocked window.
“DON’T TOUCH THAT WINDOW, GOD-MAN!!” C.H. bellowed, shaking the furniture and causing RJ to fall back in surprise.
Tennesen calmly stepped away from the window.
C.H. cleared his throat. “The lights may be turned on, but I ask that you keep the sunlight out.”
Tennesen nodded and turned on a few lights, as well as righting the one that lay on its side. C.H. flinched and made an inhuman growl when the light hit his face, but soon regained his composure and stared back at the team. Some members of the team gasped, others frowned, while still others simply curled back their lips in disgust. Shift laughed hysterically for a moment and then regained himself and looke
d sad, as a puppy might if it knew it was about to be beaten, and backed away into the other corner.
Tennesen’s composure hadn’t changed in the slightest.
C.H. sat before them—an abomination. He was wearing only a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a pair of untied boots. His eyes were receded into his head, leaving only a deep glare from two angry-looking eyes, and the mouth had been stretched nearly from cheek to cheek. His nose looked broken and flattened. The vampire’s scalp was nearly bald, decorated only by a few lifeless, gray clumps of hair that hung loosely. His ears had fallen off completely, leaving only two bloodied holes in the side of his head. His chest and stomach were thin and taut across his newly twisted frame. The arms were dramatically stretched, as were his fingers, which appeared to have sprouted more knuckles than naturally possible. His legs appeared to be unaffected by the mutation, but irregularities may have been hidden under his jeans. As if all of this wasn’t enough, he had what appeared to be elongated growths emerging from his shoulders that twitched from time to time. When more closely inspected, Tennesen could see that they were folded over on themselves several times.
C.H. sighed, “I think now you can see why I am so eager to have this thing taken out of me.”
Tennesen nodded and signaled for Courtney and RJ to approach. Though they were reluctant, they complied. RJ, knowing the routine, stood at the foot of the bed and began to whisper various prayers. The priest had noticed that the energy that RJ conjured when he was deep in prayer was useful in chasing away the entities. Courtney, shifting her weight nervously from one foot to the other, stood nearby.
“Lie down,” Tennesen instructed.
C.H. nodded and did so without a word. The priest saw that when he lay down, the growths on his back had to spread in either direction and looked like a second set of arms. Though C.H. had not been told to do so, he closed his eyes.
Gweneth walked over to the bed and knelt down and took C.H.’s hand into her own. Though she was not required to take part in the process, she had always preferred to lend a hand—literally—in comforting their clients. Skunk continued to type and scroll, and finally printed out a page from his wireless printer that lay in his case and handed it to Christopher, who read it over quickly and shook his head as he passed it on to Tennesen.
Skunk had always provided many detailed pages that would aide in the process of particular situations. Often times, various entities would be highlighted amongst the list to help identify which methods to use in the exorcism. He would also bring up medical histories of those who were showing signs of mutations, as well as specific religions that the cases followed to promote effective expelling of the entity. On top of all that, he often included a list of family and their contact information, if anything were to go wrong.
On this occasion, Father Tennesen was startled. He knew Skunk’s abilities and his genius in these situations, and knew that all had been taken into account before the page had been supplied. Just one page; he should have known it would be bleak. After all was said and done, all the hasty research and sped through readings, what Skunk finally supplied made him shiver slightly:
…
BE CAREFUL!
Tennesen shook his head, irritated by his comrade’s twisted sense of humor, and balled up the paper, tossing it on the floor and began to go down the list of his various methods. The process was more about convincing the human host to muster up the energy to expel the entity themselves. He worried that this meant that the case was almost already ensured to fail.
The priest knew full well that the religious insignia he carried would have little effect—both on the vampire and the entity. Most of their kind were without faith and it was for this reason that the energies that the cross and holy water inspired would be wasted. With this in mind, Tennesen only had the power of his and the others’ faith to help expel the entity.
Nearly an hour passed before any of it took any effect.
It started slow; slight shivers and small muscle jerks that started at the feet and worked their way up the vampire’s legs. Their progress continued in small bursts as the energy they pumped into their client began to take effect.
Suddenly C.H. lurched forward, a growl rumbling up his stomach and through his throat before it erupted from his mouth in a deafening roar. Though the severity of the reaction was unnerving, the team smiled and continued their efforts.
Courtney’s eyes went wide suddenly as the animalistic roars issuing forth grew more severe. “It’s not working!” she called out in horror, seeing something that none of the others could.
Tennesen frowned as he heard this, glancing questioningly at the auric vampire for an uncertain moment before he felt it as well. His eyes widened as he turned back to C.H. and watched the entity take control. Gweneth’s hand, which still lay in C.H.’s, was suddenly gripped tightly and used to throw her over the bed and against the opposite wall.
The young girl barely made a sound before she fell crookedly and broke her neck.
Courtney grabbed at C.H. with her right hand in an attempt to absorb his energy and weaken him but was knocked away. RJ’s eyes opened abruptly as the stream of prayer cut off and he jumped forward to try and pin C.H. down. While in mid-lunge, the possessed vampire caught him with his legs in a bizarre and graceful motion and pushed him against the headboard. Before the boy had a chance to react, their client was on him.
Tennesen backed away, startled. Nothing like this had ever happened before.
C.H., when finished with RJ, tossed the corpse aside and jumped off the bed.
Christopher, previously unable to get off a shot without risking his friends, began to fire his gun in the monster’s direction but seemed unable to connect with his target. Every time C.H. seemed to be still, he would only disappear and be someplace else entirely. Christopher, ever the silent soldier, emptied the handgun before drawing a dagger and leaping forward. A moment later he was caught by the wrist and the demon-vampire grinned; the mouth horribly wide with every tooth jagged and irregular, all of them trying to organize themselves in a mouth that was now three sizes larger than the mouth they were used to. Christopher screamed out as C.H. broke his wrist and bent it until the flesh tore. The monster drank the blood as if from a fountain and then arched the arm around to tear Christopher’s throat open with his own knife.
Switch was huddled in the corner crying while Skunk, in a confused manner, looked from the monster in front of him to the computer at his feet. He finally stood and hurled his laptop—the only “weapon” he carried—at C.H, who easily deflected it with a back-hand that shattered the device and sent its fragments slapping against the wall.
Switch stood and, still crying, charged at C.H. with all the force he could muster. C.H. caught him by the throat and held him at eye level. “Do you wish to die?” he growled, his voice a mockery of the human tone he’d spoken with before.
Switch laughed at this, though the tears still ran from his eyes. “All my life… but I’m not going without a fight!” with that, he struck out with a balled fist.
C.H. moved swiftly out of Switch’s range and grabbed his arm, pulling him closer until he was finally within biting range. The possessed vampire’s jaw unhinged and tore at the boy’s flesh. Switch cried out and reached up, grabbing at what used to be his face as the monster twisted his neck, silencing the screams with a SNAP.
Skunk pulled himself up, staring in horror at his friend’s body. A low, guttural cry burst from between his lips and he rocketed forward, swinging his fist uselessly into the monster’s chest again and again. C.H. smirked at the futile effort and snagged a flying fist in mid-attack and yanked, tearing the limb from his shoulder. Skunk stared in silent horror at his injury before C.H. took hold of his throat and repeated the action with his head.
Courtney, groaning weakly, opened her eyes and looked up with a gasp. The carnage that lay before her was enough to put her into a rage. Her eyes glossed over with an intense and electric purple hue and she pushed out with
her arms. The gesture seemed to travel through the air until it finally hit C.H. and slammed him against the wall.
The monster glared at her and charged against the force of her aura, fighting to get nearer to her. For the first time in Tennesen’s life, he saw Courtney fight. A warrior’s cry emerged from her lips and she ducked beneath a hard punch that was aimed at her head. She touched C.H.’s leg with her right hand and he seemed to stagger for a moment before kicking her away. Courtney jumped up and stopped in midair, bobbing up and down several feet from the floor and pushed out with another invisible wall that threw C.H. several feet back.
While he was dazed, Courtney shot forward in her mock-flight and punched him hard in the side of the head. The impact dropped him to the floor, growling and thrashing in a furious fit.
Tennesen came back to reality then and rushed to the window, throwing the mattress aside and pulling the curtains away.
As the sun’s rays hit C.H.’s arm the skin tightened and turned red, doing in seconds what would have normally taken several hours on a normal vampire. The monster growled in pain and turned towards Tennesen, who froze in fear.
Courtney jumped in behind the distracted C.H. and used her powers to throw him against the door, which cracked outward slightly. She threw more and more energy against him until finally the door splintered and the creature rolled out into the parking lot. C.H’s skin was instantly reddened and the growths on his back extended to their full lengths and exposed a thick skin that had grown between them. Tennesen’s jaw dropped in astonishment as the pair of fifteen-foot wings stretched out, dripping with a thin, clear fluid.
Some teens heading towards a nearby room cried out in surprise and horror and began a frantic sprint in the opposite direction as the enraged C.H. rose to his feet. A roar was directed at the two survivors as the creature flapped its wings several times, flinging off the last of the moisture, and jumped skyward and headed towards the forests behind the hotel. Courtney, breathing heavily, collapsed onto the floor. Tennesen rushed over and helped her up. Courtney looked at Tennesen.
Noir: A Crimson Shadow Novel Page 34
