Personal Demons

by Rachel A. Collett

  “God became concerned with the number of souls being taken by the Destroyer and held captive by his legions. In response to the assaults on his children, he decided to send aid. Six were sent to shield man, and to protect the targeted. They are called The Three.”

  “The three?” I sniffed. “Does this god count differently than we do?”

  Ray’s lips twisted at one corner as he considered me. “Six persons but three pairs of inseparable souls consisting of one man and one woman.” His attention moved back to the fire. He jumped to his feet, his chair squeaking in protest. Ray’s body seemed to hum with eagerness, his story wanting to get out. “Six of his strongest and most loyal warriors made immortal and sent down to travel the duration of humanity with man.”

  “Uh oh, here we go,” Laith whispered under his breath.

  Elisa smacked his knee, shushing him.

  “Each of The Three were given special callings—the Defenders, the Healers, and the Heralds, each with distinct gifts bestowed for unique reasons. Of these six beings, two were sent to remind mankind of their true history and fate. These powerful immortals were the original beginnings of the oral tradition. The Heralds were the very first storytellers in mankind’s history.”

  “Which is why they are your favorite,” Laith interjected.

  Ray lifted a brow, nodding once in acknowledgement, and I couldn’t help but smile. I glanced over at my friends sitting next to me. Their faces were filled with admiration, drinking in every word he spoke.

  Oh, this guy is good.

  “For those who know their story, they were called the Heralds because they brought with them good tidings, enlightenment, and remembrances of humanity’s true destiny.”

  Destiny. Ian’s words woke within me.

  You must find what needs to be found; you must accept the destiny that was meant to be yours, Ian had said.

  “But the Heralds are also here to protect us and to warn us that there is a battle, one that spans the whole of our existence, of good and evil. They remind us that there is one great and terrible being, a beast and cunning warrior, who desires to keep us captive through ignorance, fear, and sin. Together, they fight against the Destroyer.”

  My heart picked up its pace as Ray continued his narrative. I wanted to be suspicious, skeptic that I was. After all, I had never heard of any preexistence before, but as he moved through his saga, I could tell that Ray not only loved his stories, he believed them. I shivered in my winter coat.

  I wanted to believe too.

  “Now, even though The Three are immortal to man, they can be destroyed by others who will never die.” Ray’s brows pinched together as his voice faltered, then trailed off. “They can be destroyed by others who will never die,” he whispered again, looking off into the direction of his house. “In that case others would be chosen to take their place.” Taking a few steps toward the house, he seemed torn between finishing his story and something else—something important. After a few moments, he moved back toward the group.

  Ray slowly resumed. “So the Heralds must be constantly vigilant and on the move as they seek for lost souls in need of enlightenment.”

  “Legends have it that if you were to be so fortunate as to come upon the Heralds and recognize them for what they are, you could ask them of your true destiny and where your true path lies, and they are required by God to tell you.”

  Was this the truth I was supposed to find? Did I need to seek these Heralds in order to learn my destiny?

  “Great men and women have traveled the world seeking their counsel, for they are the ones who, even in the worst of times, can shed light on a darkening world.”

  He finished abruptly, and it took me a moment to realize the tale was over. My heart jumped as Elisa clapped her praise. “That is my favorite story. What did you think, Sarah?”

  “But, wait. That was it?” I hadn’t meant it to come out so rude, but I didn’t retract my question.

  “What do you mean?” Ray viewed me quizzically.

  “Well, like, are there ways to find these Heralds, and are there any actual historical accounts of them telling someone their true destiny? Why does this Destroyer seek after stronger mortals? And what about these humans that have powers? Are you talking magical powers?

  “Supernatural powers. Gifts from God,” Ray said.

  “Like what kind? What does that mean?” I asked.

  Ray pushed his hands inside his pockets. “I’m glad you like my story.” He was goading me. “For a minute there I thought I had lost you.”

  “Of course you didn’t lose me. And what about the other pairs God sent? The Defeaters and the Healers? Do they have actual names?” I felt frustrated knowing there was a lot more to the story that I may never hear.

  “The Defenders, not defeaters. The Defenders are actually comprised of a Defender and her Guardian, and yes, they have actual names.”

  “Her Guardian? Wait—”

  “But that we’ll save for another time,” he interrupted. His smile was huge upon his face. “Laith, remind me tomorrow to call our friend, Darius.”

  Laith groaned, “But I’ve already made our mandatory monthly call.”

  “Who’s Darius?” I asked.

  Ray was thoughtful. “He’s… a colleague.”

  “A friend,” Elisa interjected.

  “And I just thought of a very interesting solution to his problem.” Ray smiled.

  Laith straightened in his seat. “Really? That would be prime.”

  Elisa huffed. “But I don’t want to talk about Darius right now.” She looked at me, mischief in her eyes. “Sarah, maybe you’re one of these powerful mortals that the Destroyer seeks to collect. You and your incredible fighting skills.”

  “Very funny,” I laughed. “When I can change water into wine I’ll let you know. We’ll have a party.”

  She shrugged, fighting a smile. “You never know, but Sarah, what did you think of the story?”

  “I don’t know,” Laith answered for me. He stretched his arms above his head, yawning as he spoke. “These Heralds, will they grant me wishes as well? That’s a supernatural gift, right?”

  Laith was knocked out of his chair, and a playful wrestling match between two grown men began.

  Elisa grabbed me by the hand and pulled me from my chair. “Come on, I want some cake.”

  11

  The Proper Perspective

  The following day I sensed I needed a little extra strength from Mother Nature, so I took the time to walk around the beautifully manicured landscape of the hospital’s healing garden before going in to see Benjamin. It was a chilly fifty-eight degrees outside. Most of the trees had lost their leaves, and everything surrounding me looked bare and asleep, but I liked it. I wrapped myself in my grey wool coat and enjoyed the cold breeze that blew against my face.

  As I walked around one of the fountains, I saw a young man enter the garden. My spirits lifted as Aaron recognized me and headed my direction. It was a strange sensation. I barely knew him, but I couldn’t help but feel as if we were old friends.

  “Sarah, just the face to make my day even better.” He reached out to me, and I walked freely into his friendly arms. It seemed such a natural thing to do. He released me but took my hands in his and stepped back as if to get a better look at me. “Are you here to see Benjamin?”

  “Of course,” I answered.

  “Well then, come on. I’ll walk with you. I was actually just there. I like to check up on him every once in a while.”

  “Which seems to be quite often. Are you going to explain that to me, or do I have to guess?”

  He paused slightly, debating. “Yes, I am here often. I feel it’s a part of my calling to bring comfort to those that are suffering. Whether it is to give a friendly hello, a listening ear, or a hug, I believe it can make a difference in someone’s day, or even life.” He smiled to himself, and I wondered what he was thinking that had brought on that smile. “There’s more to it, but that’s about all I ca
n really say to explain it. What do you believe your calling is?”

  “Me? I’m not sure I have one.”

  He looked surprised. “You’re way off there. From the moment I met you, I knew there was something different about you.”

  We walked to the elevators and stood waiting for the next available lift. Aaron turned to me, examining me with his ever-searching eyes.

  “Something different, huh? Well, I’m afraid that you’re the only one who sees it.” I smiled, but he didn’t seem to find anything funny about what I’d said.

  “No,” his voice lowered, speaking softly and almost to himself. “There’s something there, and I’m not the only one to see it.”

  I watched Aaron standing with his hands in his back pockets, humming a song to himself. He seemed so young, yet Aaron understood what this life should really be about.

  “So your calling is to comfort others?” I surmised, as we stepped into the lift.

  “Could you think of a better one?” he asked.

  I thought about all the time I had spent by Benjamin’s side and had to admit that I could think of no greater calling than to spend my life in aid of another.

  The elevator opened to floor six and Aaron offered me his arm, guiding me toward Benjamin’s room. From the distance I could tell that Jonathan was there as usual. My body stiffened as we drew closer. I worried over what our conversation would be like after the last one. Aaron registered the sudden difference.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked. Following my gaze, his eyes narrowed at Jonathan.

  “Nothing. Why can’t you come be my visitor every day?”

  “Believe me, I would love to get caught up in spending all of my time with you, but you’re doing pretty well for yourself.” He turned to get a better look of my face. “I think Benjamin’s awake now, but just hold on for one moment, please. Stay here.”

  Aaron turned on his heel, his expression hardening as he headed straight toward Jonathan. My mouth dropped as I watched the two get closer, wondering wildly what Aaron was planning on doing. Jonathan suddenly shot to his feet, fists clenched at his side. As Aaron approached, Jonathan staggered back a step. But before Aaron could get halfway there, Jonathan had quickly fled the room without as much as a glance in my direction, down the stairwell and out of sight. Aaron continued his same direction and walked to the soda machine, a dollar already in his hand.

  Aaron was walking back to me before I could remember to blink. I looked down at the can of root beer he was offering. “You went over there for a soda?”

  Aaron glanced down at the can in his hand, “Um, I’m guessing that is what this aluminum thing is. Did I get it confused again?”

  I laughed and took the can, popped the top open, and guzzled half the drink at once.

  “Well, whatever you did, you made Jonathan upset enough to leave, but don’t worry about it. He’s a little strange that way. I’m kind of glad he left." I wiped my mouth off on the back of my hand, glancing in the direction Jonathan had just been. “He can make me nervous at times, but he’s harmless.”

  “Who makes you nervous?”

  “Jonathan.” It took me a moment to remember that Aaron had no idea who that was. “The man who left when we got here.”

  Aaron’s body suddenly went rigid. His eyes grew alarmingly large. “That man. Did you see a man?”

  I tilted my head to the side. “Yes.” I pointed to the place Jonathan last stood, then felt foolish, dropping my hand. “Never mind.”

  Aaron grabbed me by the shoulders, causing me to almost drop the soda, his voice urgent. “You saw him?”

  “Of course.”

  Aaron stared at me until I became uncomfortable.

  “Aaron?”

  “If you say that he makes you nervous, then there’s a reason for that. Trust yourself. Trust your instincts.”

  His grip on my arms became painful. On impulse I grabbed one of his thumbs and pulled back to release the pressure from my arm. “You’re hurting me, Aaron.” I fought the desire to push him back.

  He released me quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He turned his body in a jerky about face and walked away. He only took three steps before hesitating. “Remember. Trust your instincts. Always,” he said. And then he left.

  Trust your instincts.

  It was something my dad had said to me over and over again. Now Aaron. Maybe my dad wasn’t as odd as I thought, or maybe Jonathan rubbed everyone the wrong way. At least I wasn’t the only one to notice. I downed the rest of my drink and entered Benjamin’s room.

  A gasp escaped my lips as my eyes fell upon an entirely different man from the one I had met just two days before. Ben’s face was shaven and his hair was combed. He looked more vibrant with color, and seemed much more awake today. Cheryl was sitting next to him and he was smiling, but I could tell that the smile was generated for her benefit alone. I wondered if he was in pain.

  Ben caught my eye. “Sarah, you’re here.” Again his deep voice surprised me.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t come?”

  He shrugged as he watched me enter the room. The pain I had seen before was gone. Now it was replaced by a different expression—a guarded one.

  I kept the conversation simple. “So, what are the doctors saying today?”

  “They say I’m mending well. There’s a possibility I may get out of here in less than a week. Sooner if I have any say over it.”

  “That’s a good attitude,” I said.

  Cheryl smiled at him and patted him on the arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Sarah, please walk me out.” As she passed me she covertly grabbed me by the elbow, giving me no choice but to follow her out of the room.

  “I’m worried about him,” she started quickly. “Something feels wrong.”

  “But he said the doctor told him…”

  “I mean mentally—or emotionally. I can’t tell. I’m even wondering if I’m making things worse.”

  She grabbed my arm and led me a few yards further, lowering her voice. “He didn’t handle the news of Ian’s death very well. It was a really bad night for him. The nurses told me he was yelling out in his sleep so much that they gave him something so he could rest. Apparently that made it worse, and now he has begun refusing pain medication.”

  “Did you ask him about it?” Bad dreams were so normal in my life. At one time, my dad was able to provide comfort and sound logic when my dreams had become too vivid and frightening. He had been my guide through a world of chaos and had helped to keep the darkness from spreading into my waking life. I knew that this was not the same for everyone, but maybe I could still help. “Do you know what it was about?”

  “No. And I don’t have the courage to ask him if he remembers.”

  I nodded, trying to formulate a plan to broach the subject. “You look tired. Go home, I’ll see what I can do.”

  Benjamin watched me anxiously as I approached his bed.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked before sitting down.

  “No, thank you. I’m good.”

  “You look good.” Dang it, that sounded wrong.

  His grey eyes darkened, and he chuckled. “I saw myself in the mirror this morning. Not quite the image I had expected to see.” He shook his head but smiled. “Although, the scar across my forehead gives me a kind of diabolical look. I’m almost fond of it. What do you think?”

  I’d never paid it much attention. To me it was the least of his injuries, but he did have a pretty decent-size gash just above the right eyebrow. “I don’t know about you looking diabolical. I think it makes you look wiser.”

  “Great, now I’m middle-aged.”

  “That’s not what I meant, but you can twist it anyway you choose. I still say you look a whole lot better than the first day I saw you.”

  Apparently Cheryl and I saw two different sides to Benjamin because he wasn’t acting any different to me.

  Maybe it was me. Maybe something about me put him in a foul mood.

&n
bsp; “Excuse me,” I whispered. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

  I didn’t look to see if he had heard me as I walked past the nursing staff and into the recently-emptied waiting room. I sat down on the soft leather couch, rested my head on its cushions, and rubbed the tension from the back of my neck.

  Two days ago Benjamin had woken up in a hospital barely able to move, in tremendous pain, and attended to by people he didn’t know. Cheryl and I were strangers to him. Then there was the news of Ian, his co-worker and friend. He had survived while the other had died.

  I was lucky enough to claim a certain connection to him that I had built on my own, but he hadn’t been an active participant in that connection. I was holding on to impressions of him that I had subconsciously formed—personality traits that I hoped he might have. All were more likely figments of my active imagination than reality. If we were to be friends, I would need to re-introduce myself. I should have thought of that in the first place.

  I slapped both my hands on my legs and rose determinedly from the couch. From my back pocket I pulled a couple of dollars and went to get another soda from the machine. I walked straight back to Benjamin’s room where I found him fidgeting anxiously with the sheets on his bed. I opened the can and held it out to him, just a foot away from his face. He turned away and closed his eyes as he took the can out of my hands.

  “I have a headache, and you’ve just made it worse.”

  I tried not to let his sharp words sting me. Instead, I put a big fake smile on my face. “Then that ought to help,” I said happily and took my seat next to him.

  He hesitated a moment, then took a taste. He sighed, placing the cold can on his forehead and slowly rolling it back and forth, then took another long drink.

  “Better?” I asked.

  He lifted the can back to his forehead as he partially opened one of his eyes and squinted at me.

  “A little.”

  “I could go and get one of the nurses to give you more medication if you would like.”