Said the Demon to Little Miss Eva

by Billy London

  Gabriel sat on the step just below hers. “You're the girl who ruptured the ball sack of a pathetic man who couldn't handle you. You're the girl who gave me sleepless nights for a whole year. You're the girl who stood up in front of your friends, your family, your school, the media, the parents of all those children who died and gave them words of comfort and courage. You just need to do it once more. For your friend.”

  His voice told her not to be scared. Because to be afraid would mean she would lose Freddy again. Her friend, that sweet boy whom she'd shared her lunches with, talked about TV shows with, confessed her crush on Sean Bean to, not laughed when he told her he had a crush on the landlady in Coronation Street. Nothing should make her turn around and leave him to his fate. She couldn't abandon him again.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “I'm okay. Let's do it.”

  The door to Michael's flat was wide open. Taking a single step inside, they both gagged instantly. “Oh my god.” Eva covered her mouth and nose.

  “Smells like death.” Gabriel said what she had immediately thought. A rotten sickly scent that tainted the back of the throat. Her eyes misted. The smell was overpowering now. She couldn't find air to inhale. “Angel?”

  Gabriel's face doubled as she looked up at him. “I can't.” The floor came rushing toward her and before the darkness closed in on her, a figure appeared next to Gabriel.

  ***

  Heat wavered her eyesight for a moment, before she blinked it away. She could smell open air, dust. She shielded her eyes with her palm, scanning her surroundings.

  Michael was sitting on the side of the road, his legs dangling over the cliff face, his arms braced on the two-tiered metal fencing. He turned his head and beckoned her to sit beside him. She did so, dusting her palms on her jeans. “France?” Eva asked.

  He nodded slowly. “Just down there. That's where the bus crashed. This is my waking hell. It's where I should have died.”

  “But you didn't, Freddy. You survived.” She tilted her head so she could catch his gaze. His eyes were swimming in tears.

  “I should have.” His voice hitched. “It would have been better if I had.”

  She turned back toward the view. The sunshine was stingingly hot, leaving spots of white behind her lids whenever she blinked. The mountain view was so beautiful. This had been the last sight of those twenty children, those five adults who died fifteen years ago.

  She touched her hand to his shoulder. He felt so warm. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Make it something nice.”

  She had to steady herself. She never talked about this, but he would understand. “There were just ten of us left. In our class. And we were all broken. People kept asking us how we got through it. And then...then we found out you survived.”

  She felt his arm curl around her shoulders as she struggled to contain herself. “You shouldn't have wasted a moment on me.”

  “I did. And it was worse when you went away, because it was just like you died all over again.”

  He caught her jaw on the edge of her hand. “Let me tell you what I did.”

  She shook her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. “It doesn't matter.”

  “It does. Besides, you're in love with a much better man than me.” He grinned as Eva opened her mouth to argue. “You are.”

  Eva gave a tearful giggle. “He is pretty awesome.”

  Michael turned serious again, looking out toward the horizon. “It's always been there.”

  “What's ‘it’?”

  “The demon.” Michael sighed, almost as if releasing the burden of the secret on his breath. “Always. Since I was five. It didn't do anything to me for years. I just would see it in my reflection. You know when you look in a mirror and you think you can see something, or someone to the far corner? That's what it did. Then it would watch me at night. It was always there. It didn't hurt me until I told it to go away one night. It scratched me everywhere, my arms, my stomach, my face. Told me that it owned me. I shouldn't dare command it. My parents took me to a psychiatrist who thought that I was being sexually abused. I was put into foster care because I had all the symptoms of a victim of abuse. It waited, letting me know every so often that it was still around. And I finally got to secondary school and I seemed to be okay. And I met you. We used to sit together in RE. You ran out of space on the back of your exercise book. You drew the Garden of Eden on the back of mine. That's how I know you work in pencil. It's in this box of things I have from the old life. Sometimes I let myself look at it. Remember what it was like to have friends. You don't get just how fucking sweet you were to me. It always made itself more noticeable when you were around. It really wanted your attention, and I understand why.

  “It made me angry that it wanted something from you. So I ignored it. Pretending it didn't exist and it worked, it went away. I started feeling better. Happier, do you remember? Then I was allowed to go on the trip. The first few days were all right. Then we were heading for the mountains. And I can still hear the driver. He screamed What the fuck is that? before he swerved, and the drop. My god, it felt like we fell forever before we crashed into the mountainside. The screaming stopped. I was jerked upside down but my seat belt held me in place. My breast bone cracked. Before the bus landed on its ceiling, I called for help. It was so dark, Eva, it was like I was instantly blind. When I opened my eyes, It was standing in front of me. It was the most hideous thing I have ever seen. I can't even tell you what it looked like, but it wasn't human.

  “'Do you agree to my terms?' It asked.

  “I said I didn't understand. It said I had asked for help and here it was. God hadn't answered me but It had. If I wanted to live I should agree. I was only fifteen, Eva—I didn't want to die. I said I agreed, and the next thing I knew I was in a hospital bed and some journalist was taking photos of me. My foster parents moved to Australia because they couldn't handle the attention. I left home at eighteen. Got credit cards and changed my chin, my nose... I wear color contact lenses as well. I was paranoid someone would recognize me. I felt different. I would sleep for ten or twelve hours a night and never remember my dreams. I didn't see It. For some stupid reason I thought I was free. I met this girl in Sweden. Such a beautiful girl. We were making love. And I felt It. It took control of me and squeezed the life from her throat. I was hysterical. It appeared to me again, in the room. It told me that I had agreed to its terms. So to keep my own life, I would have to sacrifice another. And that's how it's been. One every year for the past twelve years. And then you moved in. And one a year wasn't enough. It had to be every day. And I couldn't... It got too much. I could feel you inside your dreams. And It felt you too. When It did... It was easier to get rid of the body, because there was hardly anything left to dispose of.” He curled his hand around the back of her neck. “I'm sorry. But I wanted you to know. I'm so sorry, Eva.”

  “Freddy, I know,” she whispered. “I do, I really do. But It has to leave. You have to make It leave.”

  “I can't do it by myself. I'm not strong. I'm weak. That's why It has been able to use me.”

  “You are the bravest man I've ever met,” she said firmly. “It has to stop. Now, Freddy.”

  “It wants to possess you. It says it will be an affront to the Most Highest because of your soul. It says you're the purest one It has ever come across. And It says It existed before the Fall.”

  “Let us help you. Me and Gabriel. The three of us will fight it together.”

  Michael pulled her into his arms. “I'm so tired.”

  “Please, Freddy.”

  He leaned back and his eyes met hers. “Thank you.”

  ***

  Eva dragged in a wheezing breath. She could smell burning. She was under a blanket on Michael's floor. She sat up. There was a long, sustained growling coming from the middle of the space. Michael was on the floor as well, his body jerking violently. Gabriel was sitting cross-legged to his right.

  “Angel?” Gabriel called.

 
“I'm here. I'm all right.”

  He turned his head and beckoned her over. “He's not himself. Just...prepare yourself for that.”

  She swallowed as she nodded. She swung her feet onto the floor and felt it tremble beneath the soles of her boots. She was shaking. She wasn't ready yet. “What time is it?”

  “Almost midnight. You were out for five hours.”

  “What?” She gripped her hands into fists. “What did you do?”

  “Found out where the smell was coming from,” he said dryly. “Made sure you were okay. Moved Michael so he's facing east. You've still got your crucifix on?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Are you ready to come to me?”

  Her breath hitched. “Okay.”

  She made her way slowly toward Michael's body and the jerking intensified. The burning smell started to sting her eyes, like she was standing too close to a bonfire. Gabriel had his left hand over Michael's chest, a crucifix dangling from his fingers.

  “It's okay, Angel. Sit next to me. The demon won't touch you. It can't.”

  She sat on Gabriel's right and peeked around his arm to see Michael's face. He turned abruptly toward her and Eva couldn't prevent the scream that erupted from her. His cheekbones were distorted, almost as if razors were piercing the skin, peeling it away, another face trying to protrude from under his own. His eyes were red and his teeth, bared at her, were elongated. “Evangeline,” It growled. “Did you enjoy how I fucked you?”

  “Gabriel...” she started.

  “It's all right. It's been saying all sorts on and off for the same time you've been passed out.” He smiled at her briefly. “You and me, Garden of Eden, okay?”

  Michael spoke, his own voice, high and frightened. “Eva, make it stop.”

  Eva wrapped her arms around Gabriel's bicep and squeezed hard. “It must go.”

  “Just move me, I'll be good, I promise.”

  “It must go,” she repeated, resolved by the heat in Gabriel's body.

  “Who are you petty creatures?” It roared, the room shaking with the volume of it. “Who are you to command me?”

  Please God, please, make It go away. Freddy needs you. Please God.

  “God? God who turns away from you when you cry. God who left your friend to die. You think God has turned a blind eye to your fornications? I can smell him on you, whore! God who never forgives!”

  Michael gave a shuddering, shrieking breath. “Eva, please!”

  Eva leaned across Gabriel and touched her hand to Michael's torso. “Leave him. Now.”

  “He is mine!” It roared, Its face breaking through Michael's in a bloody pulp, blood flecking over Gabriel and Eva.

  “Out,” Gabriel said in a quiet, calm tone. Gabriel quickly took Eva's hand and pressed her face into his shoulder. “Close your eyes, don't look.”

  She could hear howling. The room shook so badly that they both toppled onto their sides. “Keep your eyes closed, Angel. Don't look.”

  She squeezed her eyes tighter. She heard the whispering in her ear, “You will never know what you have done.” The howl intensified to a scream. Then it all stopped. There was a ringing silence. She cautiously opened her eyes. The burning smell was gone. There wasn't any matter on her skin or clothes. She untangled herself from Gabriel's embrace and hurried to Michael's side. His face was normal, smooth, unmarked. Eva took his hand. “Freddy?”

  “It's gone.” He sighed. “It's finally gone. Thank you. Thank you both. So much.”

  “Can you sit up, honey?”

  Michael shook his head. “I need to go too.”

  Eva felt her throat closing with tears. “No. Please stay.”

  “I asked for that once, and this...this is what happened. I can't bargain anymore.” He sighed again. She noticed that his eyes were that beautiful distinctive hazel she remembered from school. “Gabriel?”

  “I'm here,” he answered.

  “I'm sorry for Renee.”

  “I understand.”

  “Eva?” Michael's fingers tightened around hers.

  “Hi, Freddy,” she murmured.

  “Don't...don't be upset. I died on that trip. But I can rest now, all right? Be happy for me. That I can finally rest.”

  “Yes, rest. Sleep, now,” she agreed, wiping her tears away with her free hand. He gave her a sweet, peaceful smile and released his last breath. The clock struck midnight, the bells quietly sounding in the room.

  Epilogue

  The bus rocked gently as it turned a corner. Eva would never become used to that. She waited until it had settled before carrying on with her work. She was painting the view from that cliff in France. A scene she’d never thought she'd be able to paint.

  Gabriel was fast asleep beside her. He was an incredibly patient man. Any other man would have questioned his woman's feelings for her dead schoolmate on finding her awake and in tears every morning without fail between the hours of two and three o'clock.

  Once the police were satisfied that Michael had committed suicide in guilt for the murders of those models, Gabriel had whisked her away on holiday. He'd taken her to Israel, and she had never felt more spiritually connected than when she had been able to walk through Bethlehem. She’d never doubted that there was a God, but being so close to evil had made her question His work. But she'd looked at Gabriel and realized His work was in action.

  The bus rattled again. Well, she was officially a tour wife now, with a husband who slept like the dead. He'd told her that he was getting in all the sleep he could before the baby arrived. “The luxury of choice will be gone in three months.”

  “You've met my parents,” she'd reminded him. “What about those two Africans makes you think that you have any choice?”

  “My charm,” he'd told her. Frankly, they were on tour, so any parental interference was going to be minimal. She'd have to make a stop off at some point for a medical appointment. She'd missed two already, but watching her husband on stage was so much more fun than having a cold speculum inserted into her.

  She stroked a hand over her belly as the baby moved restlessly. “Chill out,” she murmured to him. “Almost four a.m.”

  The baby ignored her and shifted again. “Hmm, behaving like your father, I see.”

  She leaned over and rummaged around for a tube of turquoise, before mixing in a dull sanded yellow. That was the color of the sea. That was perfect. She could almost feel Freddy beside her, his hand curled into hers. There were days when she would have such vivid dreams about him, sitting in the same spot, talking about their school days together. She'd wake up on those days feeling so desperately sad that she hadn't been able to help him sooner. That she hadn't recognized him. That she had given in to her own fear and left him. On those days, Gabriel was a blessing and a revelation of wisdom and calm and such love for her, she figured she didn't deserve a bit of it.

  The clock bleeped four a.m. She completed a few more brushstrokes and convinced herself that she would be finished tomorrow. She put the painting on the easel that was set up in reach of the bed and threw the brushes into a glass of water. If Gabriel drank that in an hour, it was not her fault. She turned onto her side, making sure her distended belly was pressed to Gabriel's ribs. He'd need the practice for night feeds. Reaching over her stomach, she caressed a hand over her husband's chest. The hate mail was so worth it. She just had to make it worth his while to call their first child Fred.

  The End

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