The Trilogy of the Void: The Complete Boxed Set

by Peter Meredith

  "Mr. Jern, I used the word credence for the simple reason that a claim of possession is not something that we in the Catholic community take lightly. Each case must be proven before an attempt at exorcism is made."

  "Which clearly didn't happen here," the bishop interjected. "Oh Alba, we talked about this. When you first came up from New York, remember? You said you were done with this demon talk and now you're trying to spin some tale about magic swords and not one, but two demon possessions. And where's the proof? Eh? Mr. Jern, do you have this magic sword?"

  Feeling suddenly stupid, Will answered, "It's more of a cursed sword actually...and I don't have it here with me." His ears felt to grow warm as he spoke.

  "I didn't think so," Bishop Keenan responded. "Alba, please...I don't think we should go on with this charade. You screwed up. You were in a terrible position, I understand, I really do. If a psycho told me that he had five children held hostage, I don't know what I'd do. But...but possession? Really? Help me out on this, Carl."

  Vogel went the bed and touched Alba's leg. "Father Alba, from what you and Mr. Shay have told me, there really wasn't any possession concerning Luke. It was all a trick of some sort. He probably knew all about your past, and he put on a bit of a show. The only question I have is why?"

  "You already know this. He wanted the sword," Talitha stated matter of factly. "Luke could've left at anytime, but he stayed for the promise of the sword."

  The priest nodded gravely. "Yes, he risked quite a bit for that sword. Mr. Jern, would you mind if I went up to Maine with you to retrieve it?"

  The Bishop cut in as if speaking to a child, "No. Carl, please. I'm trying to nip this exorcism thing in the bud. I know that it's part of your job, but you're like a kid with a hammer; everything looks suddenly like a nail. You've investigated three possible cases of possession already this year and where has it got you?"

  "Closer to God, is always my hope, your Excellence. If I am to take my position as exorcist seriously, I will investigate every possibility out there. But if it will make the Cardinal happier, I'll fly up to Maine on my own dime."

  Father Vogel gave Will a nod as if the matter was settled. Will could only shrug, feeling a growing desperation about him. "I don't know if I can get it. My wife Lisa hid it, but it's probably being stolen right this second. That's why..."

  "See Carl? Father Alba?" The bishop jumped in. "No sword, no proof. All you have is a bunch of wild stories that no one is going to believe, certainly not the cardinal. Alba, he's going to see this as you trying to get out of all the trouble you have caused. Why didn't you come to me right away when this Luke first showed up?"

  "You would've sent for the police and I couldn't risk the lives of those children by calling his bluff," Father Alba replied dejectedly.

  "So in order to deal with a serial killer, you bring in someone worse... an escapee from an asylum for the criminally insane? And of course she ends up freeing the killer and now we have another death on our hands!" The bishop rubbed his hands across his smooth face. Just then, Will feared to correct the man's mistake, seeing as it would only hurt Father Alba even more; they had a total of six more deaths; four innocent, two guilty.

  Just then, the bishop glanced toward Talitha. "Miss Jern, I'm sorry if I'm being offensive, but you don't look much in the way of being possessed to me."

  Will gave his sister a look of warning, not to say anything, but seemingly on purpose she turned from her brother, uncharacteristically rebelling.

  "Would you really know what a possessed girl looks like?" Talitha asked; her words, cold and cutting, quieted the room in a heartbeat. All eyes went to her and those who knew her capabilities felt sweat cool their backs suddenly. "Possession is far more prevalent than you realize. There are hundreds of demons on earth even now. The smart ones lay low, burrowing into their hosts, feeding off them, turning their souls black and only when there is nothing left, do they show themselves. And even then, most people are all but unaware how close to a demon they had been living."

  She paused to let the idea sink in. "Tell me your Excellency, if I was possessed would you really want me to show proof right here in this room?"

  Milner's eyes were huge and he and Will shared a look, the cop was growing nervous, as Talitha appeared to be getting more and more agitated. Will tried a smile of reassurance, but it failed, and the cop only swallowed hard at the distortion in Will's ruined face and turned away.

  "Are you saying that you aren't possessed?" the bishop asked in a calm fashion. Will had to credit the old man. Despite sitting next to a priest who had his eyes torn out only the day before by the very girl who stood in front of him, the bishop was playing it cool.

  "No, I'm saying be careful what you wish for." The two stared at each other for a moment.

  He smiled as if the tension in the room hadn't jumped. "Perhaps you're right; maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea. However, I've been told that your brother possesses a talent that would be harmless to demonstrate. It would go a long way to convincing me that all this talk of the super-natural is true. And believe me, if I don't get convinced, the cardinal will never be."

  All eyes went to Will. Even Father Alba swung his bandaged head in his direction and despite the coverings, there was a hopeful look to him. There was only one problem; Will wasn't getting a spontaneous vision. And he wasn't going to purposely look; he had done that twice before and both times had been horrendous. It was something he would never do just to satisfy someone's curiosity.

  As always, Talitha seemed to read his mind and knew the reason for his hesitation. "You want to see him do some tricks? Is he a trained monkey?" she demanded of the bishop in a strident tone.

  "I suppose not," the bishop replied evenly. "But I have three dead bodies to account for, as well as a priest who has aided and abetted two known criminals." He pointed a finger at her as he said this. "The way things have been going for the Church lately, the cardinal is likely going to want to wash his hands of Father Alba and without his help..." he left off with a sad shake of his head.

  The room went silent at this and Will shared a guilty look with Talitha. It'd be the height of injustice to the blind priest to blame him for any of what had happened. His actions had been heroic in the face of great evil and because of this Will decided to help the man. Still, it was such a terrible thing to purposely look into the future that it was a minute before he spoke, "Maybe I can do something. Maybe..."

  "No you won't, Will! This is such crap!" Talitha cried. "You should be giving Father Alba a fucking medal." Her volcanic anger and her use of profanity in front of a bishop stunned Will. It was so much like her demon plagued self that his heart began to bang against the insides of his bruised chest.

  "Whoa, Tal, hey are you ok?" he asked this, turning his sister so he could look into her eyes. He feared that he would see her normal soft brown eyes looking jet black, as they sometimes did when her evil self was in control, but her eyes hadn't changed and he had to remind himself that part of her was gone. "Are you all right? You're not acting normal."

  At this, she registered sudden guilt and a touch of remorse. "Oh...oh you're right. I'm sorry, your Excellency, but what you're asking of my brother is obscene and what you're doing to Father Alba is criminal."

  "I think it's rather hypocritical for you to be throwing around the term criminal," the red in Keenan's cheeks was pronounced. "But I can do so without any qualms. The five of you," he waved his hands at the siblings, Milner, Sean Shay, and Father Alba. "You have all engaged in criminal activity that is guaranteed to besmirch the good name of the Church. Yet you expect the cardinal to jump through hoops on the basis of wild claims and dead bodies?"

  Along with the other four who had been pronounced criminal, Will dropped his head to his chest feeling a heavy guilt. The room was silent for a time and then Talitha spoke up.

  "Since this is all my fault, I will show you something if it'll help Father Alba." After a quick glance around the room, she went to a cabinet
that stood near to the bed. It was filled with medical supplies, but instead of opening any of the glass-fronted drawers, she simply punched one of the little windows. Shards went everywhere and after they finished bouncing and skittering about, she picked up the largest piece and went to stand before the bishop.

  She drew up the sleeve of her raggedy black dress and then with dreadful slowness, she sliced deeply into the muscle of her left forearm. Blood drained from the wound, but she didn't wince or cry out, but only dragged the sharp glass further along.

  "Oh my!" exclaimed the bishop, leaning away from the wound. Talitha only smiled and tossed the stained glass onto father Alba's breakfast tray where it plopped ugly in his uneaten scrambled eggs.

  "A high tolerance for pain. Very interesting," Father Vogel murmured. "Unfortunately that's not enough. There are certain sects..."

  "I'm not done, but since you are such a doubting Thomas, would you like to put your fingers in the wound?" She held out her arm to him and instead of shying away, he did indeed touch the outer edges of it. Blood ran from it like water from a faucet, but even as he probed it, the blood stopped completely and not another drop oozed out. The priest's mouth came open, and his eyes widened.

  Talitha paused to see if this was enough, but when the two clergymen only glanced at each other and nothing more, she continued, "Father Vogel, look at me please." Despite the please she threw in, it was more of a command. "Are you familiar with any of the tongues of the Void?"

  "Do you mean Hell?"

  "There is no Hell. There is only the illusion of Hell. Hell is a place with walls and dungeons and chains and demons. That place doesn't exist except in the minds of the damned, but the Void does exist. It's vast and horrible, endless. The Void is filled with pain and lies, and everything in it is an illusion, including the way out. There is no way out, but...but...but I digress. Do you have knowledge of any of the 'Hell' languages?"

  "No, how could I?"

  Talitha sighed in exasperation and turned to the bishop. "How can I demonstrate a knowledge of tongues if your exorcist doesn't know any?"

  "Well..."

  "Never mind." Talitha, again was agitated and surly. This was so unlike her that Will would have asked her to stop her demonstration if it wasn't for the fact that Father Alba needed it. She continued with a note of superiority, "Do you know any language besides English? Sprechen sie deutsche? How about... govorite li bosanski? Or... an bhfuil gaeilge agat? That last one is Gaelic and it's quite a mouthful let me tell you." Talitha then began to yammer away in different and odd sounding languages until Father Vogel put out a hand.

  "I would like to tape record this, if you don't mind."

  "I would say go right ahead, but you don't have a tape recorder on you."

  He cocked his head curiously. "How do you know? Sony makes a very small recorder. I could have one in my back pocket."

  "But you don't. Intimate knowledge of a person one has never met is a sign of possession, correct?" she asked the priest. He nodded with a slight smile. To Will it looked as if he were enjoying their little encounter. Everyone one else in the room only stared with varying levels of uncertainty.

  "I know things about you, Father," she stated baldly.

  "Such as?" Father Vogel hadn't blinked at her statement.

  She studied him for close to a minute before answering, "You enjoy Italian food and have red wine with dinner, almost without exception. When you were younger, you played the violin, but now not so much maybe once or twice a year, instead you sing and not just at church. When you're alone... in the shower or in the car. How am I doing?"

  He had lost his smile and said faintly, "Very good."

  "Hmmm. You smoke cheap cigarettes, Camels I believe, but oddly, you don't use a cheap lighter. Instead you use something that has meaning to you...a Zippo adorned with an emblem."

  "Yes...how did you know?"

  "It's in your left front pocket. And you have a pen in your back right."

  He dug these out and held them up for the others to see. "Amazing."

  "Not really," she said with a shrug. "I could go on if you wish." She turned to the older clergyman and gave him once over. The bishop did little save raise an eyebrow, but his attitude was one of growing wariness. "You drink only single malt scotch at night, but during the day you drink vodka, because of the lack of an observable odor. As a child, you were poor and you suffered from rickettes, and now you sleep on a bed with Egyptian cotton sheets and you eat at the finest restaurants. You had salmon this morning for breakfast and steak last night for dinner."

  "How do you know all this?" The bishop demanded. The pink in his cheeks had turned to grey that had him looking very old. "Are you...are you possessed? For real?"

  "I was," Talitha replied, with her shoulders slumping. In fact, all of her sagged. "It's a long story."

  "They have to hear it, Tal," her brother murmured. He knew they were now well satisfied that something supernatural had occurred.

  "I know, but do I have to be here for it?"

  He understood completely. Although he would do his best to skim over the worst of it for her, in the re-telling she would come away looking horrible. Like a monster, merciless and beyond redemption.

  "No, but don't wander too far please. And, if you don't mind, book us on the next flight into Bangor." She gave him a glum smile and a quick head bob, before leaving. He watched her head out the door feeling wrong for some reason, but then his ability kicked in and he knew. She was deathly afraid of being hated.

  "Talitha," he called down the hall. She turned back in apprehension, her hand going to the neck of her dress. "I forgot to tell you that I love you."

  She smiled shy at the unexpected words.

  Chapter 5

  Will

  The telling of their ordeal went by relatively quickly with Will staring at the white tiled floor and speaking in a dull monotone, but the question and answer session that he hadn't been counting on, following just after, did not. It was a slow painful torture. Every action by all involved was second-guessed to such a ridiculous degree that Will quickly grew angry. The worst of the lot was Eric Milner.

  "Why didn't you arrange the bodies when you were done? You could've made it look like they had killed each other."

  "Did she have to use my gun? She could've killed that guy with her bare hands."

  "Why didn't you wipe down Terry's apartment? Now you'll have left fingerprints everywhere!"

  "Why didn't you just shoot your sister in the church?"

  This last roiled Will to no end, especially since the cop asked it more than once. Eventually, Will simply began to ignore the cop. This sped things up somewhat, yet it was still awhile before they were satisfied with the details of the story. Then came endless questions concerning the powers demonstrated by the brother and sister. The extent of them, their limits, their uses. The bishop stayed quiet through most of this, letting Father Vogel probe here and there for information, while he sat back studying Will.

  During this part of the questioning, Sean Shay excused himself with a quiet mumble and left the room. He had been silent throughout and his sad face was ashen by the time he left. Will felt for the man, not only sadness but guilt as well. Survivor's guilt. It was an odd feeling and one that he would have a hard time putting into words if ever asked.

  Sean didn't say good-bye and too late Will realized that he didn't either. But he wished he had since within minutes of the door closing behind him, Will knew he would never see the man again.

  "I'm sorry for all of this," the bishop said, indeed sounding quite sorry, as if he'd been a part of what had happened. When he wished to the bishop could sound incredibly emotional. His voice had a quality to it. It made everything he said more true or perhaps more real. When he was sad, nobody seemed sadder. When he was angry, people cowered. When he spoke, people listened. He turned to Milner. "Tell me Officer, what can you do about all of this?"

  Milner seemed to shrink in front of the bishop and he too
k two small steps back as he spoke, "Well...the crime scene with the boy, the one Will dreamed about, we don't have to do anything about that. It's clean as far as we're concerned. Mainly, it's just the one crime scene we have to worry about over at the factory. I'm guessing that the fire burned up all those little boys pretty good and since they're buried beneath tons of rubble, I don't think I can do much about that. But the rest? Seeing as Jim killed that girl, I could maybe put a gun in his hands and make it look like he shot Luke too."

  "I was hoping that you could just make it all disappear, if you know what I mean." The bishop's Irish blue eyes smiled, but the cold words weren't really a suggestion and Milner nodded to the bishop while his eyes darted around.

  "I might need some help. A van and maybe some boys to..."

  "Whatever you need. Please speak to my assistant Father Charles, he'll be glad to aid you in any way he can." The bishop nodded to the door as a way of dismissal and Milner was up in a hurry to obey, but he paused at the door.

  "Uh, Will? I'm going to need my gun back."

  Will hesitated. He didn't trust Milner. "I need to go back to the factory as well. When we're done there, you'll get your gun back."

  Milner looked to pout, however the bishop shooed him away simply by lifting his chin. "What do you need at the factory?" Keenan looked only casually inquisitive, yet there was sharp intelligence behind his eyes.

  "The incantation to open the gate onto the Void is there. I need it, and I will need those ones too, Father." Will pointed to the stack of thick vellum in Vogel's hand. "Where did you get them?"

  "Mr. Shay found them in a small nap-sack in the storage room beneath the church," Vogel answered. "He thought they were important."