The Devil Inside

by Heather Atkinson

  “I think it’s time we left,” said Cass, conscious that Malachi could call in more of his minions.

  “Aye, I’ve had enough of talking to piles of shite for one day.”

  “You know Mr Brodie,” said Malachi. “You can’t get away with insulting everyone all the time without consequences. Whatever you put out into the universe you get thrown right back at you.”

  “So you should be in for a good dose of torture, imprisonment and brainwashing. Karma’s coming to get you pal.”

  With this slightly sinister pronouncement, Brodie and Cass headed for the door, being careful to keep one eye on the assembled bats.

  “By the way,” said Malachi before they could make their escape. “Your friend DI McLaren came to see me.”

  Every muscle in Brodie’s body tensed. “What did you do to him you freak?” he yelled.

  “I did nothing to him. He came to interview me about Elaine’s disappearance. Apparently he had some footage of her being abducted but strangely enough, it had vanished.”

  Brodie and Cass glanced at each other, hearts sinking.

  “He was furious,” continued Malachi. “I offered to show him some breathing exercises, I was afraid he’d keel over from a heart attack but he rather rudely turned me down.” He smiled at his bodyguards, whose eyes twinkled with amusement. “I don’t know what the police force is coming to. I did expect better from a so-called professional.”

  “You had one of your minions on the inside wipe that footage, didn’t you?” said Brodie. “Well that’s no’ gonnae save you from us.” He looked to Jeff, whose face resembled a large cherry tomato. “You’re gonnae get yours too pal,” he yelled at him before leaving, slamming the door shut.

  “Well that went well,” sighed Cass as they took the lift down to the ground floor. The corner of her mouth lifted into a smile. “But at least Malachi has no idea we took our own copy of that footage before handing it over to the police.”

  “Aye, the smug git. What did you make of Elaine?”

  “She looked weird and creepy.”

  “And nothing like how she was when I met her. Aye she was scared and nervous but she had personality and fire. Talking to her up there was like talking to a piece of blank paper.”

  “She’s definitely been a victim of some sort of weird brainwashing.”

  “They broke the poor wee coo but she was adamant Mary exists.”

  “She probably does and she could be right here, in this city.” She shook her head. “What a mess. Now Malachi is going to come at us with everything he’s got.”

  “Riling him into action is the only way to bring him down. We’ll spend the night here and get back to Glasgow in the morning, we’ll be safer on our own territory. And that fat dobber Jeff is going down too.”

  The lift doors pinged open and they stepped out into the lobby to find a colony of bats. They didn’t seem to be on one of their usual missions to convert the world. In fact they were just standing there, staring at them.

  Brodie took Cass’s hand in his own. “Just keep walking hen and it’ll be fine.”

  Their heads held high, they walked across the marble floor. The receptionist looked from them to the bats, confused but not wanting to know what was going on.

  Brodie thrust his face into one of the bat’s when he refused to get out of his way.

  “Gonnae move wee man or are you wantin’ me to throw you through the window heid first?”

  The man gave him a typical bat smirk but he stood aside, all of them looking on in silence as they passed through them, Brodie keeping a tight hold of Cass’s hand.

  Outside on the pavement there were more bats standing there, watching them in silence.

  “Let’s go get a brew somewhere,” whispered Cass.

  “Good idea hen,” he replied, both of them looking back over their shoulders as the colony watched them go in creepy silence.

  CHAPTER 10

  Brodie and Cass found a nice café near the castle that had a spare table at the back. Gratefully they took a seat, neither of them admitting to the other that it was nice to be among strangers who weren’t part of a sinister brainwashing apocalyptic cult.

  “Jeezo that was weird,” sighed Brodie as he sipped his coffee.

  “Malachi was giving us a show of strength. He could get all his disciples to haunt us if he so chooses.”

  “This is just the start hen, it’s only gonnae get worse.” He put down his cup and took her hand. “Tell me honestly, do you think we should push this one?”

  “I’ve never known you have doubts about a case before.”

  “Because this is the biggest we’ve ever taken on. There’s only five of us, well six including Pete and there’s seven hundred bats.”

  “If we don’t bring them down no one else will and Malachi will keep getting stronger.”

  “Aye, you’re right hen. I suppose I’m having doubts because I never really had anything to lose before but now I have you and our life together and I won’t let anything get in the way of that.”

  She smiled and kissed him. “You know the right way to go Brodie, you always have. What’s your gut telling you?”

  “To bring this prick down.”

  “Then that’s what we’re going to do.”

  Her words strengthened him. “Aye we will,” he smiled, running his fingers through her hair. “Sorry,” he said when his phone started to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “It’s Pete. Alright pal?” he said into the handset, wincing when his friend bellowed down the line. “Alright, take it easy. You nearly deafened Edinburgh then. Aye, we know. Malachi collared us in Jeff Fraser’s office. Yeah, that slimy shitebag. But you’ll have to call off the search, Elaine’s alive and well - sort of - and back with Malachi.” He winced at another torrent of loud swearing. “She says she’s happy to stay with him but it’s clear he’s brainwashed her, she was no’ herself. I’ll tell you all about it when we get home. Aye we will and you take care too,” said Brodie before hanging up. “Jeezo, he’s raging.”

  “Can’t say I blame him. Oh let’s forget about all this crap for a bit and have some fun. Want to check out the castle? I know you love a good castle.”

  “How no’? I havenae been to this one since I was a wean.”

  After finishing their coffees they left, walking hand-in-hand up the cobblestone street to the castle at the top. They came to a halt when they saw another colony at the entrance. They were handing out leaflets to passing tourists but when they saw Brodie and Cass they ceased their activities and stared at them instead.

  “Shall we just go back to the hotel?” said Cass.

  Brodie nodded. “Aye hen.”

  After tumbling about the large, luxurious bed in their hotel room with Cass for most of the day, Brodie almost managed to forget about Malachi and the bats. By late afternoon they were starving, so they decided to burst their little bubble, get dressed and head downstairs to the swanky restaurant for something to eat.

  “I bet the waiters wear those creepy white gloves,” he said to Cass as he fastened up his shirt.

  “Probably,” she replied, brushing out her incredibly long hair at the dressing table. “Don’t worry, they won’t touch you with them.”

  “I wouldnae be so sure. There’s some funny types in these poncy restaurants.”

  He was aware he was babbling but he couldn’t help it. He had the ring box in his trouser pocket, wondering if tonight was the night he would finally pop the question. The danger they were in from Malachi and his bats had only made proposing feel more urgent.

  “Right,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’m ready to go.”

  As they’d known they were checking into a high class hotel she’d packed one of her evening dresses, a long dark blue number that plunged to her ankles, leaving her shoulders bare, as well as plenty of cleavage. Her hair cascaded down her back in magnificent waves and he burst with pride to have this goddess on his arm.

  “I feel lik
e locking the door and throwing you down on the bed,” he rasped.

  “I need fuel if there’s going to be any more of that today,” she said, planting a kiss on his lips and taking his arm. “Let’s go so we can come back and shut out the world.”

  “Sounds good to me hen.”

  As they entered the restaurant Brodie couldn’t help but smile at the eyes that turned Cass’s way, who outshone every other woman in the room, all of them caked in make-up and dripping with jewellery. None of them could compete with her natural beauty, they all required enhancements of varying degrees and success.

  To Brodie’s chagrin, a maitre d’ with a waxed moustache and the dreaded white gloves on his hands greeted them at the door, his nose stuck so high in the air it looked like he was locked in mortal combat with the receptionist for the title of Who’s the Snobbiest Git. He pranced rather than walked, like a horse in a dressage competition. He redeemed himself slightly in Brodie’s eyes by leading them to a quiet table off to one side.

  Brodie’s fingers found the ring box in his pocket again. Perhaps now was the time? If he was discreet about it no one else would notice, then he wouldn’t put unnecessary pressure on Cass in front of a bunch of strangers.

  They took their seats, the Maitre d’ pulling out their chairs for them before beckoning over a waiter with a click of his fingers.

  “Madam, Monsieur, Serge will see to all you needs,” said the Maitre d’ in a fake French accent before prancing off to greet more diners arriving at the door.

  “I bet he’s from Partick not Paris,” Brodie told Cass, making her smile.

  Brodie sighed when a second man pranced up to them, although his eyes gleamed with good humour.

  “Bonjour Monsieur, beautiful Madam, my name is Serge and I will be your waiter for this evening.” His fake French accent was only marginally more convincing than the Maitre d’s but he wasn’t as stuck up, so Brodie began to relax.

  They perused the enormous menus while Serge minced off to fetch the bottle of wine they ordered.

  Brodie’s fingers found the ring box again, going over in his head the words he’d been endlessly practicing. His mind butted in, showing him images of her turning him down with a look of disgust or laughing out loud at his impertinence. His throat turned as dry as sand and he found himself unable to speak.

  “Brodie?” said Cass. “Are you okay? You’ve gone really red.”

  He cleared his throat and smiled. “Aye, fine hen. Just thinking over today.”

  “It didn’t go as planned, did it?”

  “No and I hate what they’ve done to Elaine. I wonder if there’s any way to reverse what they’ve done to her?”

  “I think you need to speak to an expert, a psychologist or something.”

  “Good idea hen. I’ll do some research when we’re back in the office and track one down who has experience with cults.”

  She took his hand. “Now, just for this meal can we forget about Malachi and his colony and everything else and just enjoy being together?”

  “Nae danger there hen,” he grinned, leaning into her.

  They straightened up when Serge returned with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew.

  “Excuse me,” said Serge with a playful grin. “Did I interrupt Madam and Monsieur’s fun time?”

  “Not unless you were spying on us earlier,” muttered Brodie.

  Serge poured out a dribble of wine into Brodie’s glass then regarded him expectantly.

  “Aren’t you gonnae fill it up then pal?” frowned Brodie.

  “He wants you to taste it first,” said Cass.

  “Oh right,” he said, picking up the glass and gulping it down. “Tastes like wine. Fill it up then Serge, it’s been a hell of a day.”

  Brodie had expected Serge to flare his nostrils at him like the receptionist but instead his eyes danced. “As Sir wishes. Are you ready to order?” he asked as he poured.

  As he wrote their order on his tiny notepad with a flourish, Brodie said, “Why do you all wear those creepy wee gloves? Do you have a horrible skin condition or something?”

  “No, it is Francois there,” he said, rolling his eyes in the direction of the Maitre d’. “He thinks it makes us look more…what is word? Sophisticated.”

  “Go on, admit it. He’s from Partick, isn’t he?”

  “No Monsieur, he is from Paris,” he replied, although his eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “What about you? Let me guess, Drumchapel?”

  “No Monsieur. Belgium.”

  “Aye, I bet.”

  Serge just winked at him. “Currently we have a thirty minute wait for food but the chef has special feelings for me, so I make your order jump the queue.”

  “Thank you Serge,” he smiled.

  “Let me know if you need anything at all Monsieur,” he purred before trotting off in the direction of the kitchen doors.

  “You’ve made a new friend,” smiled Cass. “I wonder what Pete and the boys at the office would say if they met Serge?”

  “I couldnae gie’ a shite, he’s alright is old Serge.” He wondered if his new pal could help him with his proposal.

  A rammy at the door drew his attention from his thoughts. He looked round and groaned. “For Christ’s sake.”

  A group of ten disciples were attempting to enter but Francois had bravely placed himself before them, telling them they couldn’t come in because they weren’t residents of the hotel, neither were they appropriately dressed.

  “You feed the sinners, the spawn of Lucifer himself,” proclaimed one disciple, pointing at Brodie and Cass.

  Unfortunately the huge shed of a man sitting at the table behind them thought the bat was pointing at himself and the woman with him. Throwing down his napkin he got to his feet, towering over the room, powerful chest threatening to burst from his expensive shirt. “Did you call me and my bird spawn of Lucifer?” he bellowed across the room.

  The blood drained from the bat’s face when he saw the leviathan he’d angered. “Of course not Sir, you look a good and gentle man.”

  “Gentle? You calling me a fucking poof?”

  “N…no, of course not Sir. I’m sure you’re very in touch with the masculine.”

  “You saying I touch men now?” roared the leviathan. His face burned red with anger. Even his bald scalp turned scarlet as the rage consumed him.

  The bats began backing up out of the door as the unstoppable leviathan continued advancing on them, waiters hastily getting out of his way.

  “No Sir,” said the bat as he disappeared through the door. “I mean you’re a gentile, a man of a kind and gay disposition.”

  The leviathan released a roar that made all the glassware on the tables shake before speeding through the door after the disciples as they fled, the sound of shouts and thuds following.

  “You know,” grinned Brodie, taking a swig of wine. “Edinburgh’s no’ bad after all.”

  They had their food within twenty minutes, which was exquisite. A good meal combined with the wine relaxed Brodie and he returned to considering proposing.

  When they’d finished their meal Cass excused herself to use the bathroom and Brodie took the opportunity to call over Serge.

  “Oui Monsieur? I hope everything was okay with your meal?”

  “It was gallus thanks Serge.”

  “This is good?”

  “Aye, is good. Listen, I want to propose to my girlfriend…”

  Serge gasped and clasped his hands together with delight. “Oh how exciting. So romantic. She is a most beautiful lady - those eyes, that hair, those bre…”

  “Hey, watch yourself there Serge.”

  “I was going to say breathtaking proportions.”

  “Hmm. Anyway, I want to make it special.”

  “Champagne?” he practically squeaked.

  “No, she’s no’ a big fan. But she does like a nice pinot.”

  “I have the perfect thing. Would you like me to put the ring in the glass?”

 
“No thanks, I don’t want her choking on it. I wondered, do you have anything else that might make the evening more special?”

  “We have a violinist and we have an in-house florist. She could arrange some beautiful red roses.”

  “The flowers sound good, no to the violinist.”

  “And we could arrange breakfast in bed and a late check-out for you in the morning if you want to spend the night…celebrating,” he added with a cheeky wink.

  “Okay but only if she says yes.”

  “How could she say no to you Sir?” Serge squealed and clapped his hands together. “I have never been asked to help someone propose before. It is so thrilling. Wait until I tell my mother when I call her tomorrow.”

  “Alright, calm down,” said Brodie when everyone looked their way. “Wait for my cue.”

  “What cue?”

  “Err, I’ll gie’ you the nod.”

  “Gie’ me the nod,” he frowned with confusion.

  Brodie nodded and winked at him, as a demonstration.

  “Oh Sir,” he gushed, flapping his hands at his face. “If she turns you down then I’d be happy to step into the breach.”

  “You think she will turn me down?” he said, the horrible thought making him blind to Serge’s flirting.

  “I see many couples in here but you are one of the few who seem to enjoy each other’s company.”

  “You think so?”

  Serge patted his arm. “I know it. She will say yes then it will be all wine and roses.”

  “Aye, you’re right,” he said, feeling a bit better. “And call me Brodie for Christ’s sake.”

  “Mr Brodie.”

  “No,” he said, swallowing down his annoyance. “Just Brodie.”

  “Oh, like Beyonce,” beamed Serge.

  “What? No.”

  Serge spied Cass returning to the table. “I will await your signal and good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  Serge smiled at Cass as she retook her seat. “Was everything okay with Madam’s meal?”

  “It was beautiful, thank you Serge.”

  “Dessert?”

  “We’ll take a look at the menu please.”

  “Of course.”