Behind the Darkness

by W. Franklin Lattimore

  Brent stood off and away from the table. Leaning against the dining room’s elaborate china cabinet with his arms crossed, he observed Elizabeth’s home life. He was able to understand the edgy feeling she had regarding her family’s success.

  His own dad had come close to acquiring the income needed to live in a home like that of the Franklin family. Keith Lawton had pushed for it while Sharon Lawton spent it. He worked for what they could one day have, while lack of vision motivated her to spend money on the ‘sparkly thing’ of the moment.

  Lots of fighting had taken place between his parents due to money. Finally, however, they had an encounter with Christ and discovered that what really mattered to them was their ‘triangle.’ Keith and Sharon Lawton on either side of the triangle with Jesus at the apex. They came to understand that if they kept their eyes on Jesus, they would draw closer to one another while ever drawing nearer to Him. And it worked. No parallel or opposite courses for the two of them any longer. Their lives and marital paths converged through Christ.

  Brent continued to watch the “surfacey” interaction at the dinner table with great interest.

  Elizabeth took another bite of broccoli while staring blankly at the center of the table.

  “What’s wrong, Dear?” asked her mom.

  Elizabeth didn’t hear.

  “Earth to Elizabeth,” said her dad.

  Finally her parents’ words were registering again. “Hmm?”

  “What’s wrong?” her mom asked a second time.

  There was a small internal conflict that took place in that moment. Part of her wanted to take advantage of the question. The other part knew that they didn’t really care to hear. It was the latter to which she ultimately listened.

  “Nothing. I’ll be okay.”

  Brent hoped, at this point, that he would see some parental love and concern kick in.

  “You know what the British say,” said her dad.

  Elizabeth sighed. “Yes, Dad. ‘Stiff upper lip.’”

  “That’s right. Whatever it is, tough it out. It’ll get better.” Turning his attention back to his wife, he resumed their prior conversation. “So, Jack said that we’ll begin rolling out the new technology into Europe within the next eighteen months. I think we’ll be able to afford that boat after all.”

  “Blah, blah, blah.” Elizabeth shrank back into the confines of her loneliness. What had she expected, actual concerned parents? When was the last time she had experienced that?

  “Surfacey.”

  She realized something just then. “If I had been aborted, I wouldn’t have any of my problems, and they wouldn’t have to deal with a daughter that got in the way of their lifestyle.”

  Brent inwardly groaned.

  A slight flash of light appeared to Brent’s right. Ten feet behind Elizabeth, Garian appeared.

  Brent stood upright, dropping his arms to his sides. “Garian.”

  The angel looked at him.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “The Enemy is moving. Something is about to happen.”

  Brent tensed. “What’s going to happen?”

  “I do not know. I just know that something is coming this way.”

  No sooner had Garian’s statement reached Brent’s ears than another being appeared. It walked through the wall dividing the dining room from the lanai—an open-air room at the back of the house.

  Brent recognized the demon right away. It was the spirit of death that they had dealt with earlier in the day. Brent had determined that, should he encounter the dark being again, he would not shy away from his responsibility to protect Elizabeth.

  “What do you want?” challenged Brent, trying to sound more confident than he actually was.

  The demon gave him a hard stare for a moment as it walked past Garian and up behind Elizabeth.

  Adrenaline spiked in Brent. Without thinking, he began walking toward the creature, but Garian advanced to block his path, the angel’s left wing extending before him.

  “No, Brent. Do not approach in your own strength.”

  The demon produced what appeared to be a smirk. “Abide by his words, child of dirt.”

  “What are you doing here?” Brent demanded. While he didn’t expect a response, he didn’t want to give the impression of backing down.

  The demon did respond, though. “Waiting for permission.”

  “Permission?” Brent looked at Garian. “What is he talking about?”

  “The fallen one is hoping to assert his right to oppress a human life. Elizabeth’s life.”

  Brent looked to her; she was still staring at the center of the dining table chewing her food, oblivious to what was going on around her.

  He focused his attention again on her thoughts.

  “…don’t want to be here. If I could just die…”

  “NO!” Brent shouted. “Elizabeth! Hear me! Listen! God loves you! You and your baby can make it through this!”

  The demon laughed a wicked laugh. It reached both arms forward, hands on either side of Elizabeth’s head. The nails in its claw-like hands extended, and the vile creature jammed them into Elizabeth’s skull.

  Brent watched as Elizabeth produced a slight shiver, but she never broke her stare.

  Panic rose within Brent. “Garian! Why are you just standing there? Stop him!”

  If sorrow can be evidenced in the face of an angel, Brent saw a glimpse of it. Garian’s jaw became tight, and the muscles in his shoulders and arms quivered. “I cannot. Elizabeth does not have prayer cover. I cannot violate her free will. She gave the permission that this underling required in order to take hold of her.”

  “She…what?” Brent was beside himself with confusion and anger.

  “Elizabeth now flirts with the idea of death—for herself, but mostly for the death of her unborn. The spirit of death anticipated this and came here to oblige her heart’s request.”

  From confusion and anger to intense fear, Brent’s emotions were colliding. He faced Elizabeth again. The sight of those talon-like fingernails penetrating her scalp unnerved him further.

  “What are you doing to her?”

  Brent didn’t get an answer. “Garian, what is it—”

  “It is feeding her desire. Intensifying it. A spirit of death craves death itself. Its own craving reproduces that desire within the host. What the demon wants, the host also wants.”

  A second time Brent tried to rush the demon, but Elizabeth’s guardian angel turned to face him, this time grabbing Brent by the shoulders. “Brent, look into my eyes.”

  Brent did so.

  “The battle is not lost. The infant’s life may yet be saved.”

  Again, Brent turned to look at Elizabeth. “Don’t give up,” he pleaded. “Don’t give in.”

  Her thoughts shifted Brent’s emotions again, this time to sorrow. “Life will be better without the baby. Just like my parents would have been better off without me.”

  Elizabeth continued to stare.

  ELIZABETH LOOKED AT the two listings in the phone book. The stress she was feeling caused a tingling sensation in her fingertips.

  Fifteen minutes had passed since her parents had said their goodbyes and left for their wine-tasting event, and though she had the whole house to herself, she found that she had migrated up to her bedroom.

  The door closed, she sat cross-legged on her bed, holding the phone in her right hand, hoping that one of the two numbers she had found in the phone book would be her salvation.

  Brent and Garian watched as the demon of death, standing behind her, its legs infiltrating the mattress of the bed, continued to penetrate her skull.

  Brent felt locked in place. Conflicted.

  While he could hear the thoughts of all that he tagged, regardless of their locations, he could only get them to hear his voice if he was actually near them. That meant he would have to leave Elizabeth’s side in order to try to get people to pray. He couldn’t find himself doing that.

  I need to be
here for her, he reasoned. And yet, being here means that I can’t do anything to help her!

  He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to call out to Joshua, but knew that his cries would come to naught. Garian wasn’t helping either. The warrior stood watching as the very one he was charged to protect was allowing herself to be violated.

  Elizabeth let out a big sigh. “Okay… Well, here goes nothing.”

  She dialed the number to a clinic called P.Y.L.—Plan Your Life—Women’s Services. Placing the phone to her head, she heard the phone connect and begin ringing the line.

  “Please be open.”

  “P.Y.L. Women’s Services. This is Carol. How may we help you?”

  “Umm… Hi. I umm…” Elizabeth struggled to find the right words. “Can… Can you tell me how much you cost?”

  The woman didn’t miss a beat. Brent knew that her profession involved daily calls from scared women…and girls. “That depends on the service. What specifically can we help you with?”

  Elizabeth could hardly breathe. Her heart pounded hard and she had difficulty swallowing. “I need… Umm… I need to have an abor…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “…an abortion.”

  “Well, first, let me assure you that you have nothing to be nervous about. Just relax. This is what we do, so you don’t have to be afraid to talk with us. Okay?”

  “I uhh… Okay.”

  “Now. How far along are you? More than ten weeks?”

  “No. Less than that.”

  “Good. That means you’ll be having the simplest procedure that we perform. The cost is three hundred and seventy-five dollars. You will need to allow three to five hours for your appointment, though the actual procedure will only take about twenty minutes. The remaining time is for paperwork, blood and urine tests, ultrasound examination, counseling, et cetera.”

  “So long… How am I going to pull this off?”

  “What is your age?”

  “I’m uhh…fifteen.”

  “I see. And you’ve got the consent of a parent or legal guardian?”

  Fear stabbed at Elizabeth. “N-no… No, I do not.”

  “Honey, I’m afraid that you must first get consent before we can help you. This state’s ridiculous laws prevent us from helping young women your age, even though you are certainly old enough to decide for yourself.”

  Elizabeth began to shake.

  “Is there anything else that I can help you with?”

  Elizabeth’s voice became a weak whisper. “No. Nothing.”

  “Well, thank you for—”

  She pressed the end call button on the phone. For a moment she just stared at it, then with sudden alarm she dropped it and threw the phone book to the floor as she began a mad dash to the bathroom to expel the contents of her stomach.

  Brent could hear her thoughts.

  “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God!” The spasms in her abdomen were merciless. Everything that she had eaten, along with her fluid intake, was deposited into the commode. As soon as her stomach was emptied, the dry heaves began.

  Brent remained in the bedroom with Garian, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to provide her with any comfort. Also remaining was the demon. It crossed its arms and stared at them defiantly.

  “He doesn’t fear you,” said Brent to the warrior.

  “He does not need to.”

  Brent watched as the spirit of death produced a twisted smile.

  “Not yet,” concluded Garian, with a hard stare of his own.

  The smile on the demon’s face faded.

  After another couple of minutes, Elizabeth returned to her room and to her bed. She held a wet washcloth to her face while her left arm wrapped around her stomach.

  “What am I going to do? What do I do? This is bad. This is so bad.” She fought for options, but nothing was coming. “No matter what, my life is over.”

  That’s it, Brent thought. It’s time to get some prayer going for Elizabeth.

  He was just about to transport himself to Tina’s home when something horrific began to unfold. The demon of death opened its mouth and leaned back its head. After a few seconds, two small hands appeared from behind the demon’s lips, gripping the corners of its mouth. The thing—whatever it was—began to pull itself forward and out.

  A head appeared, black and dripping with thick saliva. Red eyes blinked as it saw the light of day. Next, the bends of two black-feathered wings appeared as it continued to pull and push its way through the mouth of the demon of death.

  The thing took in its environment for a moment before noticing both Brent and Garian. It stopped and stared, fear appearing in its eyes for a short moment. It released a menacing hiss before continuing its exit from the larger demon’s lips. Knees, parts of two scrawny legs, came into view.

  The creature slipped completely into view and dangled by its back feet, the scraggy appendages clutching the lower lip of the demon of death. The impish demon grasped Elizabeth’s hair for support before finally lowering itself onto her head. It steadied itself above her brow like some sort of hellish crown, its long, prehensile tail resting on Elizabeth’s left shoulder.

  Brent blinked. His eyelids were the only parts of his body that seemed to still work, until he felt himself shudder. Words wouldn’t come. Thoughts wouldn’t shape. Nothing in the darkest recesses of his own imagination could have prepared him for what had just happened. Now he wanted to escape the confines of the room to vomit.

  The death demon tilted its head back down, a look of amusement on its face.

  Brent took a step backward and another toward Garian. Looking at Elizabeth now, he couldn’t believe that she was oblivious to what had just happened, to what now rested on her head and shoulder.

  He looked over at Garian. The angel’s facial features had grown more severe than any time Brent had previously seen. An angry intensity filled his eyes, while the muscles of his arms and chest flexed.

  Brent second-guessed the move he had just made toward the warrior and took a sidestep away. At any moment, something violent could break out between the three creatures, and Brent’s brain was flashing a proximity warning light.

  Garian, though, remained unmoved. His stare… Brent could tell that it was an issued challenge to the two trespassing demons.

  Ignoring Garian, the larger demon looked down at the smaller and spoke. “Take hold.”

  The black creature dropped down from her head to her left shoulder and seemed to sit. Then its tail quickly moved around Elizabeth’s neck, curling around it twice. Like a python, the tail squeezed, making it clear to Brent that the creature was making a permanent claim on the girl.

  “Get off of her!” demanded Brent with a yell. “In the name of Jesus, get off!”

  While both demons flinched at the name of the Savior, they nevertheless held on to their prey. The smaller one leaned its head toward Elizabeth’s ear and began to speak in a low, raspy voice, “I can’t live like this. I’ve got to end it. It’s not worth living anymore.”

  Brent tapped into Elizabeth’s thoughts once again.

  “I can’t live like this. I’ve got to end it. It’s not worth living anymore.”

  Panic rose within Brent again. He looked back to Garian. “What’s going on?”

  Through clenched teeth, Garian spoke three words that Brent would likely never forget.

  “Spirit of suicide.”

  Brent was angry, and not just at the demons.

  At himself.

  If anyone should have seen this coming, it was he…he who had also dealt with a spirit of suicide as a teen.

  It may not have been this specific demon, but Brent was all too familiar with its work.

  At the same age as Elizabeth, he had been pressured relentlessly by a spirit to kill himself. His left wrist still bore the scar of one of those attempts.

  He knew… He knew intimately two things that this girl was dealing with: the feeling of being trapped with no known options and the fear of what life would hold moving forward. H
e should have seen the signs that had allowed this spirit of suicide to enter Elizabeth’s life.

  A third thing that he had experienced to an immeasurable degree—something that he had absolutely hated in the midst of his struggle with suicide—would hopefully come to the forefront of her mind, as well: the fear of death. That dread had centered on a destination—the big ‘Where will I go when I die?’—and it was the only thing that had kept him alive.

  A gnawing emotion was developing to coincide with his internalized anger—one that he hoped would not haunt him forever.

  Regret.

  Instead of immediately prompting people to pray, Brent had made a bad decision to stand by and watch as this newly-introduced spirit of suicide took more ground. That decision may have hurt Elizabeth beyond his ability to reckon.

  That is not going to happen again, thought Brent. I will not allow myself to be distracted. I was able to defeat a spirit of suicide in my own life, and I know that this one can be defeated in hers.

  Brent stood in Elizabeth’s bedroom. Gone were Garian and the demon of death. The spirit of suicide, though, still clung to Elizabeth’s neck.

  She was asleep and apparently because of that, the suicidal demon was quiet. Its red eyes remained unblinking and fixed on Brent’s every movement. Brent wanted to walk over to the thing, grab it by its neck and tear it off of her. But as it had ‘permission’…

  Stalemate.

  For now.

  It was a little past midnight, and Tony and Laura Franklin had just gotten home. He had heard their footsteps outside of Elizabeth’s door—several times—and yet no one bothered to look in on her. Not that anything could be done if they had, but it still made him angry that they didn’t seem to care.

  Brent began to pace. What was he going to do?

  Part of him wished that he would just wake up in his mamaw’s house. After all, Elizabeth was sleeping, so what was the purpose of him being in this reality any longer?

  He didn’t, however, want to leave her alone in the bedroom with that little demon.

  Brent decided to tag Colleen and Tina to see if they were awake.