Battle of the Soul

by Carl Alves

  Arusha growled and clawed at his face, but Andy held him back. With one hand, he lifted the demon and threw him into a stone pillar near the side of the house. A loud crack rang in the air, and Arusha slumped to the ground.

  Andy strode over and stepped on his neck. He didn’t enjoy crushing weak demons like Arusha. They were no challenge to him. It was his job to save people from demons. Even though he would much rather this be a quick and easy death, he had to teach Arusha a lesson. This was the fifth time he was exorcising a person Arusha had possessed. He was determined to make this the last by giving Arusha a painful lesson he would never forget.

  He yanked one of Arusha’s horns, tearing it off the demon’s head. Arusha gave an inhuman cry. Andy grabbed the other horn and tore it off as well. Large clumps of skin and flesh clung to the horn. He tossed it aside like an empty beer bottle.

  Orange fluid poured out of Arusha’s head as he curled into a fetal position. “Please stop.”

  Andy stepped on his neck again. “If you don’t like this so much, you should have thought about the consequences before possessing Roy. Are you going to learn your lesson and return to that sewer you call your home?”

  Arusha raised his hands, his bony fingers trembling. “I will. I will.”

  Andy removed his foot and lifted the demon by his head. “If I ever see you again, I will put you through a beating like you’ve never experienced.” He didn’t know how to permanently kill Arusha or any demon for that matter. Sometimes it just happened. He had eliminated almost a dozen demons from existence, and in each case their body disappeared.

  With both hands, he held Arusha’s head. With a violent twist, he snapped the demon’s neck like a twig, tearing skin and tendons. Arusha’s head hung limply.

  Andy waited a few moments to see if Arusha would disappear. His body remained. He was a survivor. He was weak and put up little resistance when Andy fought him, but he kept coming back.

  He ran back to the kid. Hopefully, Roy would forget this experience upon his return to the real world. Sometimes the possessed had memories or flashbacks of their ordeal. Infrequently, the person vividly remembered everything and had a hard time adjusting after the exorcism. If Roy was as intelligent as his parents insisted, the kid would be all right. That was the part Andy had no control over.

  Roy had not moved since Andy left him. The kid had a vacant look. Andy put his arm around him.

  Roy pointed outward. “It’s different.”

  Around them, the scenery had changed. The dingy stone-covered landscape had turned green and flowery, abundant with trees and plants. The sky was clear blue. The river flowed freely. Andy nodded. “That’s right, my friend. I’m sorry you had to go through all of this, but it’s over.”

  “What happens now?” Roy asked.

  “It’s time to go home.”

  Chapter III

  Andy transferred himself out of the kid’s body without a hitch. If Mr. Johnson had watched the exorcism, all he would have seen was Andy in a trancelike state, holding his son’s shoulder.

  Andy stretched. He was always hungry and tired after an exorcism.

  Roy yawned and rubbed his eyes. His skin looked normal other than the remnants of scars from where his skin had torn, but they would be gone before long. He stared wide-eyed at Andy, then looked around the room. “Um, who are you?”

  Andy stifled a yawn. “I’m a friend. You ought to go downstairs, cuz. Your mom’s making lunch, and I don’t know about you, but I’m famished.”

  “Me too. I’m starving.” Roy got out of bed. The sheets and his tee shirt were soaked. “What going on? It’s almost three o’clock.”

  Andy shrugged. “Maybe you had a bender last night. Come on. Get dressed. Your folks are waiting.”

  “Uh, okay.” Roy put on a new shirt and a pair of sweats. “Have we ever met before? You don’t look familiar.”

  Andy ignored the question. He walked out of the room with Roy behind him. His parents were at the bottom of the stairs. At the sight of her son, Mrs. Johnson wept. Mr. Johnson held out until they went downstairs, then he too began to cry.

  Mrs. Johnson hugged Roy like she was never going to let go. “Oh, thank God you’re better.”

  Mr. Johnson joined in the hug, and Andy walked past them.

  Roy had a deep frown. “What’s going on?”

  Andy should have told them to keep it cool after the exorcism, but this response was natural. As with most people who undergo possession, Roy had no idea he had been possessed. If it were up to Andy, he would never find out. This knowledge would only complicate the recovery process.

  Andy stood in front of the television without giving the Johnsons a backward glance. He cursed under his breath and threw his hands in the air. How could this have happened? When he left at halftime, the Birds were up, now they were down thirteen points. He sat on the couch as the Eagles punted the ball, time running down to the end of the third quarter. It was a disaster. This game was going to cost him a cool grand, money he didn’t have.

  “Um, who is he?” Roy asked.

  Mrs. Johnson said something, but Andy couldn’t make it out.

  “Is everything all right?” Mr. Johnson asked.

  Andy covered his eyes. “No. The Eagles are getting crushed.”

  “Oh.” Mr. Johnson went back to his wife and son.

  A few minutes later, Mrs. Johnson approached. “The food is done. I made baked ziti.”

  Andy stared at the screen as the Giants put together another drive. This one would put the nail in the coffin. “I really appreciate that. I hope I didn’t put you to too much trouble.”

  She grabbed his hand. “I want to thank you for saving our son. It means so much to us. When I first saw you, well I thought this was some sort of mistake, and I must admit, I didn’t have much in faith in you. My faith, in general, has been weak of late. I can’t thank you enough for bringing Roy back.”

  Andy waved his hand. “It’s no big deal, really.”

  He went to the table, not wanting to witness the massacre on the television screen. How was he going to come up with the cash to pay his bookie? He had just hit up Monsignor Curran last week. The archdiocese of Philadelphia paid him a salary, but it was never enough to keep up with his losses.

  He wallowed in misery as he ate baked ziti with the Johnson family. None of their joy spread to his side of the table. Roy asked numerous questions. His parents were evasive in their answers and tried to pry information from him about his recollection of strange events. The kid didn’t even have trace memories of the possession. He was lucky. Those with strong memories had a difficult time coping. Some even had to be hospitalized afterward.

  “So, not to be rude, but why exactly are you here, Andy?” Roy asked. “I don’t know you, and you don’t seem like someone who would be in my parents’ social circles.”

  Andy glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, who had blank stares. He sighed. “Well, you’ve been out of commission for a while. You see, you’ve had a bit of an issue lately with demonic possession. I came out here and cured you.”

  Roy’s face contorted. “Demonic possession? Is this some kind of joke?”

  Mr. Johnson frowned. “I’m afraid it’s not. You were in very bad shape.” He stifled a sob. “We thought we were going to lose you.”

  Mrs. Johnson touched her son’s shoulder. “Andy exorcised the demon from you.”

  “This is insane.” Roy got up from the table and left the room.

  Mr. and Mrs. Johnson stalked after him.

  Andy helped himself to more ziti. As he wolfed down the food, he glanced at the television. It wasn’t getting any better for the Eagles.

  By the time he had fully stuffed himself, the Johnsons returned. Roy seemed spooked. Andy couldn’t blame him. A whole chapter of his life had been torn like pages from a notebook. Still, it beat the alternative.

  Andy belched and excused himself. “Mrs. Johnson, that was an excellent meal. Thank you for feeding me. It was good meeting ya’l
l, but I gotta roll.” He rose from the table and stretched, his head still foggy from last night’s drinking and today’s exorcism.

  Mrs. Johnson gave him a big hug.

  Mr. Johnson walked him to the front door. He spoke in hushed tones. “Andy, I can’t possibly express my gratitude for what you’ve done. From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you. Roy means the world to us, and I thought for sure he would never come back. The last few weeks have been miserable. I don’t know what you did up there, but you have a special gift. Thank you for sharing it with us, and God bless you, Andy Lorenzo.”

  “No problem. Glad I can help.”

  “Look, if there is anything I can do for you, and I mean anything, please let me know.”

  Andy’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well I am kinda short on funds these days. I’ve been socked with some pretty large bills and I’m falling behind. A tip would be greatly appreciated.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a crappy business card he had printed from home.

  Mr. Johnson nodded. “I would be more than happy to generously compensate you for what you did.”

  “Yeah, just keep it on the down low. Monsignor Curran or no one else from the church needs to know about this, if ya see what I’m saying.”

  Mr. Johnson raised his hands. “I’ll be discreet. Thank you.”

  “Go extra easy with your son. The whole recovery part can get tricky.” Andy shook his hand before leaving. He felt empty. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson were genuinely overjoyed, and they seemed like good people. He had done his part to help them, but what did he have in his life? Nothing. No family. No real friends except Monsignor Curran. The only thing he had was his ability, and no matter what awesome things he could do in the spirit world, whenever he came back to reality, he was a big, fat nobody.

  Andy hung his head low. There was nothing left to do besides find a bar, watch football, and drink himself silly before flying back to Philadelphia tomorrow.

  Chapter IV

  The woman sitting next to Andy on the flight back to Philadelphia was fair skinned and wore hip, black glasses. She was tall, slender, and pretty, which meant she would want nothing to do with him. Of course, that wouldn’t stop him from trying. Over the years, he had learned to deal with rejection.

  She was reading a psychology book. Great, not only was she pretty, she was also brainy. Like he stood a chance with her.

  He waited until she glanced up. “I noticed you’re reading about, um, psychology there. Do you, you know, go to school?”

  She tilted her head down but didn’t respond.

  She must not have heard him with all the noise inside the cabin, so he spoke louder. “I was just wondering if you’re like a student, you know.”

  She marked her spot with her finger and glanced at him. “Yes, I am.”

  He was finally getting somewhere. “So what school do you go to?”

  She kept her eyes trained on her book. “Bryn Mawr.”

  “Bryn Mawr, huh? Up in the Main Line. Yeah, isn’t Bryn Mawr like an all girl school? Must be tons of lesbians over there. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I don’t mind that kind of lifestyle.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “I see you’re studying psychology. That’s pretty cool, you know finding out about the human mind and all. Very interesting subject.

  For the first time, she regarded him. Maybe he had a chance after all. “Yeah, I like it. It’s pretty stimulating.”

  “I’ve always found that we know so much about the human body, but not that much about the mind.”

  She nodded. “That’s very true.”

  Stretching his arms, he spilled his cup of water on her. Damn. Just when the conversation had been going good, it came to a grinding halt.

  “I’m so sorry.” Andy tried to look for a napkin.

  She got up, presumably to go the bathroom, so he turned on his iPad. A few minutes later, an old lady sat next to him. What was this all about?

  “Excuse me, ma’am, but I think you’re sitting in the wrong seat.” Yeah, this one belonged to the hot chick.

  She gave him a big smile, revealing her dentures. “Oh, no, that young lady asked if she could switch seats with me. Since I am flying by myself, I told her it would be no problem.” She held out her hand. “My name is Olga.”

  Andy shook her hand. This sucked big time. Now he had no chance of hooking up with the hot chick.

  For the remainder of the flight, Olga knitted a sweater and bombarded him with stories of her family and her old people friends. This was like purgatory. It wasn’t torturous pain, but it wasn’t fun. When the plane finally landed, Olga must have been enamored with him because she was trying to set him up on a blind date with her granddaughter. He tried to be polite when he told her he was involved in a serious relationship, another sin he would have to confess to Monsignor Curran.

  There was nobody waiting for Andy at the airport. He could have gotten Monsignor or someone from the parish to drop him off and pick him up, but why bother? He liked being self-sufficient.

  He searched for his car in the long-term parking lot. One of these days he was going to remember to write down the location of the spot, just like one of these days he was going to get in shape. Neither would happen, but it was a good thought.

  After thirty minutes of frantic searching, Andy found his car. He exited the airport and drove on I-95 North. He thought about his plans for the next few days and came up with a big blank. He needed a hobby. A steady girlfriend would be nice, but he wasn’t banking on that happening any time soon. His problem, well one of his problems, was that he did this awesome, climactic thing when he exorcised demons, and nothing in his life could not live up to it. Like collecting stamps could compare to battling demons. He spent his free time drinking, gambling, and watching sports, not that there was anything wrong with those activities, but when that was all you had, it felt hollow.

  He would see Monsignor Curran in the morning. He probably had another assignment lined up for Andy. Lately, he performed one exorcism after another. At least it gave him something to do. He also helped out around Our Lady of Good Hope Church. Monsignor Curran was constantly recruiting him to do a multitude of tasks the parish did not have the manpower to support. He didn’t mind. The people who lived and worked at Our Lady of Good Hope were like his family.

  It was late by the time he arrived at his duplex. The place was a shithole. Some Russian dude owned it and didn’t make repairs unless someone’s life was in danger. Monsignor Curran had suggested he get a new place, had even made appointments for him to see other apartments, but Andy had never followed through. There was no point. His exorcisms took him to all corners of the globe, and he rarely had guests.

  He parked his car in front of his duplex and picked up his mail. Nothing but bills and junk. The only time he got anything interesting was when the formerly possessed or a member of their family sent him a thank you letter or a token of their appreciation. They were especially generous around Christmas. If he didn’t spend so recklessly, he would be well off. What he needed was an accountant to take care of his finances and provide him a small stipend.

  As he approached his duplex, he spotted a large man wearing a dark coat sitting on the steps. It took a few moments for him to recognize the man. Andy nearly wet himself. The man worked as an enforcer for Malik, his bookie. He looked menacing with his tight face and scar above his left eyebrow. His thick neck and hands gave the impression that they could crush Andy’s skull.

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “I’m thirsty. Let’s go inside. You can fix me a drink.”

  Andy’s heart beat fast. “Sure. That sounds like a great idea.” He removed his keys from his pants pocket and opened the door. The enforcer followed him.

  Once inside, he shoved Andy from behind. He fell face first, his luggage flying, the cheap carpet roughing up his face. The man lifted Andy by the back of his shaggy hair. “Seems like you owe Malik some money. Two large to be exact. I’m here to do some colle
ctin’ or some hurtin’. Your choice.”

  “Yo, chief, just relax.” How much money did he have in the house? A thousand at most. Malik wouldn’t accept a partial payment.

  He grabbed Andy’s jaw and squeezed, causing him to yelp. His jaw felt like it was going to snap. “Where’s the money?”

  Andy raised his hands, as if that was going to hold back this goon. “Look, I don’t have the money on me.”

  Malik snarled.

  “But I’ll get it real soon.”

  The man let go of Andy and smashed his fist into his palm.

  “I’m good for it. Malik’s gotta chill. I’ve always given him his money in the past. I’ll have it by the end of the week.”

  The man crushed Andy’s hand in his own. Searing pain dropped him to his knees. Holy shit. This dude was crushing his fingers.

  The man crouched. “You better get the money, or I’ll put a hurtin’ on you. Ya hear?”

  When the goon let go of his hand, Andy’s anger flared. Demons were terrified of him, so why should he let this asshole intimidate him? “Lay off me, you fucking animal.”

  The man’s brow furrowed. “What did you say?”

  “I’m going to get Malik the money. Now get out of my house.”

  The man chuckled. “You’re a funny guy. Okay, I’m leaving. Here’s something to remember me by.” He punched Andy in the gut.

  Andy gasped, doubling over. He collapsed to the ground, unable to breathe.

  He lifted Andy by the hair. “The name’s Cesar. Remember it ‘cause I’m coming after you if you don’t pay up.”

  Chapter V

  Bishop Devlin rose from the chair and removed his glasses, a prominent vein in the side of his head bulging out as he folded his arms. “That young man is a menace. He should be locked up in jail, not associated with the church.”

  Monsignor Curran glanced at the clock in his office. He had been listening to the bishop rant for fifteen minutes. He wanted Devlin to get it all out of his system before he responded. Apparently, the white-haired bishop was not done yet.