by David Skato
CHAPTER XI
Jessi was smart, and she knew that she had been followed since she stepped foot into the precinct. She used her girly smile and her innocent eyes to appear dumb to this fact. She also used the same charm, nonchalantly buying two burner phones from a small convenience store. It had been days since she heard from Dontae’ and she was beginning to worry. She knew that he was laying low, but she didn’t expect this long of a silence. She figured he was ok because the department, especially Wilcox, was still looking for him. And the “others,” as she now called them, were following her, meaning they haven’t found Dontae’ either. Jessi followed her routine, the gym, work, the store, and home, all the while being observed. She made it to her mid-town flat and walked into the door when suddenly a man grabbed her from the back and placed his hand over her mouth. Just before she launches what would have been an epic elbow, Dontae’ whispered.
“It’s me.”
He then turned her around and held up his index finger to his lips, signaling her quiet. She obliges. Next, he air signaled something that resembled a person drawing. She recognized the sign as he wanted to write something. She goes into the room and returns with a pen and paper. He jots down: “Meet me at your father’s house” and hands her the paper. She nods, and he slips out the door. Jessi waits impatiently, doing everything from sit-ups to biting her nails. She checks the window a few times to make sure her “tail” was in place. They were in the same spot as they were the hundred times she’s checked over the past few days. When she felt that enough time had passed, she placed her phone on the bedroom dresser and shut off the lights. She then grabbed the burner phones along with her laptop and put them into a backpack along with the gate opener. She reached under the bed and pulls out a red helmet, and straps it onto the backpack. She slowly and carefully climbs out the back window, down the fire escape, and slips unnoticed around the corner. She walks for a couple of blocks until she reaches a candy apple red Ducati Panigale. She hops on it and rides off. The moment she crosses the threshold of the house’s entrance, Dontae’ closes it behind her.
“Sure you wasn’t followed?”
“Yes. I’m sure.” She says, startled.
He hugs her tightly, which was extremely surprising and satisfying.
“Rochelle isn’t dead,” He explains.
“Yea, I saw her on “Talk it now.” But I got something even better than that.” She goes over and places her computer on the table. She opens it and logs in.
“I know who put your name on the iPad.”
She presses play on a video clip, apparently displaying footage from the Quest Inc. office building. “This is the video from 4:37 that morning.” She said as she presses play.
The video starts to play soon, showing Rochelle run to the iPad and typing on it. She is constantly looking back, clearly afraid of something. She pulls what appears to be the ID from her pocket and goes off-screen. The black mist starts to enter through the glass front doors, and the footage begins to static before finally going black.
“That's all of it. Someone turned off the cameras. All of them. At the same time.” Jessi says, spooked.
“Jessi listen, something strange is happening and Rochelle is the key to whatever it is. I need you.”
“OK tell me what to do.” She instructed him.
Dontae’ paces to the end of the living room. “I may have to do some things that look bad, but I need you to be on my side.”
“Donate’ you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“That video that she just posted is a message to get people to sell their souls to the devil.” He informs her to a much-warranted blank stare.
“OK Wade, I think you need help. Seriously. I’m talking about the kind of help they give people that talk to their dead grandmother.”
“If they finish the plan, people will become, I don’t know, devils, I guess; millions of them.”
She looks at him and rubs her forehead in disbelief.
He tries to speak. “I know how it sounds-“
“Do you?” She cuts him off. “You sound like you’re insane. The devil, souls and shit? Come on man!”
“Do I ever play like this? Look at me. Do you think this is a game?”
She calms down.
“No. I don’t. I think you need to talk to someone because you really believe this.”
“I just need you to have my back when the call comes.”
“What call?” She asks.
He looks down. Dontae’ knows how this is going to look to the world. A rogue cop who murdered his girlfriend, then Rochelle. Dontae’ wasn’t big on leaving a legacy, but he didn’t want to be known in this capacity. At the end of the day, he would rather be known as a murder than let these monsters take over the world. His life for many. It was worth it.
“Dontae’ what call?” Jessi asked, bending a little to make eye contact.
“Jessi, I may not make it through this.”
“That’s bullshit Dontae’! Do you realize how this sounds?”
He holds her by the shoulders and looks into her eyes. “I need you to trust me. Do you trust me? Look at me. Do you trust me?
A tear streamed down her face as she looks deep into his eyes. She now knows that what Dontae’ is telling her is God’s honest truth. “Yes. I trust you.”
“Whatever is happening, I have to stop it.” He informs her as she walks to the couch and takes a seat.
With an explosion of tears, Jessi breaks down. “This is too much. It’s just too much. I feel like I can’t keep it together. Wilcox grilling me. The whole force looking at me crazy. Dontae’ I don’t think I can handle this.”
He goes and takes a seat beside her placing his arm around her shoulders. “I know Jessi. It will all be over in a few days.”
She looks into his eyes. “Dontae’, I know I appear tough but I'm not. Rochelle was the first dead body I’ve ever seen. When you called me and said we were going to a suicide scene, I almost fainted. I ate that burrito on the way there to hide my God damn shaking hands.”
Dontae’ briefly recalled the cases that he has worked with Jessi and realizes she was telling the truth. Although they had been on a few homicide investigations, they were always after the body had been moved. It had been either it was a gunshot victim who was rushed to the hospital and later died or interviewing witness of previous cases started before she joined the unit. “It’s okay,” He calmly states.
She wipes her tears with the palm of her hands, sniffling as she talks. “I didn’t want to seem green. But now you know.”
“You handled it well.”
“I had to hold it together. My one-liners keep me focused,” She cry-laughs.
Dontae’ lies his head back and stares at the ceiling, remembering. “Mine was one week out of the academy,” he tells her.
“You first body?”
“Yeah. A murder-suicide. The man killed the woman and then killed himself. It was a bloody scene. That wasn’t the worst part. They had two little girls. One was hiding in the closet the entire time while her parents were dying. The other one was in the room while it was happening; she witnessed the whole thing. It’s still the worst thing I've ever seen in my career. I had to drive those girls to child protective services. I remember thinking to myself; I can’t let them know that I'm afraid for them. But I was. I grew up without parents, so I know how hard it was going to be—those poor little girls. I just wanted to hug them and tell them it was going to be ok. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t.”
“Damn Dontae’ that’s terrible.”
He broke from his daydream and tapped her on the knee.
“I’m going backstage at Rochelle’s show tomorrow night. I’m going to try my best to get to the bottom of this. If all else fails.” He pauses. “If all else fails, I will end it.”
She nods. “Wait a second.” She goes to her bag and pulls out a phone still in its packaging, then hands it to him.” “Take this. It’s a prepaid, untraceable. I have one
too. It’s the only number saved in there.”
He stands and heads for the door. He looks back one last time. “Thank you.” He mouths just before walking out.
Dontae’ didn’t know what to expect when he arrived at the Mercedes-Benz Stadium downtown, but if there was anything he could have imagined, this wasn’t it. The place was bustling with the usual fans, but there was something so strange about how the people were bringing unusually small children to this type of show. He knew that performers like Rochelle usually show up half-naked, and even though he wasn’t the one to call on if there was a quiz about pop culture, he was pretty sure that some of her lyrics were very vulgar. Vendors were selling “Rochelle” T-Shirts with a beautiful image of her in the crucifixion pose. The crowd was thick, and Dontae’ could make out several conversations about the video challenge. Was this it? Was this the stupid thing that would end the world as we know it?
Dontae’ laughed at how silly it was and that people could be so oblivious of what’s going on around them. But then reality struck. He was once one of those people. Before walking into the room and seeing the Carasaca, he was exactly like them. Calvin had said that these things had been around for years, and this type of manipulation tactic was a slow burn. He knew it was true. He knew how easily even the strongest of minds could be manipulated. You just needed the right motivation, and for these things, that motivation of choice was fame. Everyone wants to be famous in some form or fashion. As he walked through the crowd, he really put hard thought into this concept. A mother may not want fame for herself, but she will definitely feel some way if her baby's picture doesn’t get enough likes. He also thought about how amazing this plot was yet how simple it all seemed. Calvin called it conditioning. The old man was wise, and Dontae’ knew that he had to hang on to every word he heard during their brief time together.
He wiggles his way through the crowd and then through the front gate. He finds his seat, which was in the nosebleed section. “I guess he really wasn’t a fan.’ He thought. The woman at the will call had informed him that his ticket allowed him backstage when the show was over. For now, he could sit here and enjoy the show like the raging hormonal teens all around him. Probably not.
The opening acts were entertaining and some even funny. People didn’t seem to pay much attention to them as they meandered in and out of the stadium corridors. This was the scene up until the DJ made an announcement.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the moment you all been waiting for.” He screamed. The music stopped, and the room went dark. The “oohs” and “ahhs” started to fill the building, followed by the “what’s going on’s” after the silence and darkness lasted longer than expected. The place began to illuminate slowly by the lights of cell phones that impatient people started to hold in the air. Dontae’ looked towards the stage where he could vaguely make out a figure standing dead center. Suddenly, one spotlight shined from the back to the figure, and it was Rochelle gleaming with the very essence of glamor. Her flowing sparkly dress kind of reminded Dontae’ of a disco ball with the light of all colors bouncing in every direction. Her head hung low with her eyes closed. Her blazing red lipstick glowed, highlighting her luscious lips. The crowd goes berserk. Rochelle didn’t budge one inch as the people shouted, cried, and even passed out. She stands silent and still until the crowd begins to calm.
Rochelle opens her mouth and the most beautiful sound echoes throughout the building.
“Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never come around. every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears.”
Dontae’ recognized the song lyrics, but she had somehow twisted the song into a spectacular R&B version.
Then, she sang lines of the song in a way that sent chills down Dontae’s spine.
“I really need you tonight Forever's gonna start tonight Forever's gonna start tonight Once upon a time I was falling in love now I'm only falling apart there's nothing I can do A total eclipse of the heart. Once upon a time there was light in my life now there's only love in the dark. Nothing I can say A total eclipse of the heart.”
Somehow, she was speaking to him. This wasn’t just a song choice; this was a cry for help, and Dontae’ was the only one who could hear it. He knew that something had to be done and fast.
The song ended, and Dontae found his face wet with tears. He had been crying since the heartbreaking song started but didn’t notice until now. His heart was broken, and the spell in Rochelle’s voice was able to send his emotions to the surface. She was indeed powerful.
The crowd began to chant. “Give, Give, Give, Give.” And the lights changed to a dark purple. The song started, and screams filled the building. She finally arrived at the part of the enchantment. For a moment, the beat played while she prepped the audience.
“I hope you’ve been practicing because we are about to challenge you.” She said, walking back and forth across the stage. “You ready!?” She shouted. The crowd roared, and she made sure. “I can’t hear you!” They roared once more. “Here we go!”
The beat breaks, and she began the enchantment.
“Blets adjempt necroidcies blets blet beacties keils podlkid quibbit vicfoic adufjdfucl brapylphy…”
She continues chanting, and the crowd is with her every word. This was the scene worldwide as people watched online, on TV, and on Quest. People all over were repeating these lyrics, and the monster was growing bigger and bigger behind the scenes. Calvin had said that the greatest trick the devil had ever pulled was making people believe he didn’t exist. Dontae’ understood this. He was sitting directly in the thick of it. He had seen the Carasaca kill the love of his life. He witnessed his friend, the chief of police, set him up. Even with all of that, he still couldn’t believe that the woman on stage was evil or that a simple chant could cause the apocalypse. He was either going mad, already insane or possessed himself.
Once the show was over, Dontae’ headed down the stairs and towards the stage. He shows his pass to the security and walks backstage. People are all around, and he recognizes most as the opening acts and their entourages. Backstage was smokey, with the smell of weed resonating throughout. Half-dressed females giggled in conversations with guys that seemed so high that Dontae’ wondered if they even knew where they were. Women, weed, and booze? In his younger days, he would have killed to be in this environment. He works his way down the hall to an empty area that was much quieter. He approaches the door and gives a slight smirk as he presents his pass to two guards standing outside of what he knew was Rochelle’s door. The shorter of the two patted him down, then throws his head to say, “go on in motherfucker.”
The room was filled with mostly teens in line waiting to take pictures with the star. He could see her across the room posing with young girl, after young girl. He felt extremely out of place and decided he would go to what looked like the father’s corner. After a while, the place was starting to empty. There were a couple of teens left, and Dontae knew that this was his chance. He steps out of the shadows onto the all-white backdrop surrounded by lights all shining on Rochelle. The photographer flashed the final photo with the last teen. Rochelle's eyes then meet Dontae’s. She is immediately startled, as if she knows why he’s here.
His brain was now ruberbanning in fits of confusion from “this is crazy” to “this is real.” “Did I really see - what did Calvin call it? A Carasaca?” He thought. It killed Sandy, it killed Calvin, and he killed it. At least that was what he thought, but how could he know for sure. This was far from dealing with the type of evil with which he was familiar. He knew the evil of man, and he knew that a single bullet or a long-drawn-out justice system could stop them. All men feared something, and when you know what that is, it’s easy to use that fear to control any situation. This was something else. These were entities, demons, and maybe even the devil. Dontae’ knew that he had to be the one. The reluctant hero that stories talk about. Fuck a story, fuck a hero, fuck the devil; he wanted his lif
e back, and if killing this Rochelle creature was what he needed to do, then that’s what it shall be. “Don’t fall for its spell,” He told himself. And then, she spoke. Her muddle words floated out her mouth with a voice much softer than the one she portrayed professionally. “Hi Dontae’”
An ice-cold shiver ran down his spine with the speed of a lightning bolt. His body froze, and his heart started to pound. His internal instincts waned, and his mental state broke from confidence to distortion and back again. He had lost sight of his goal, and for the first time in a long time, Dontae’ didn’t know what to do. Rochelle walked over to her vanity and took a seat. She dabbed a towel in some type of solution and began removing her lipstick.
“Have a seat.” She said, staying focused on her reflection in the mirror.
He walks over and sits on the stool beside her. She turns and looks at him. For the first time, Dontae’ was looking into the eyes of Rochelle. They were brown, hinted with soul searching, and truly mesmerizing. Dontae’ finally knew why she was so loved by so many. With a half-second glance, he absolutely knew that this wasn’t a monster. He had made a mistake, and the body on the car had to be a doll. Right?
Rochelle’s look of innocence reminded him of a case he once worked. The wife was accused of murdering her husband for his insurance. The husband was twenty years her senior, so that was a red flag but not enough to accuse someone of murder. During the interrogation, he watched as she balled and cried what seemed like tears of pure sadness. Her sweet voice didn’t sound like it could harm any living creature, let alone her husband. Dontae’ asked questions, and he was almost convinced she was innocent until he saw something. For a very, very tiny moment, she broke character. We are talking about microseconds, but he caught it. In that sliver of time, an evil rose to the surface and reared its nasty head. He had to give Rochelle a chance. He couldn’t risk killing an innocent woman. He wasn’t a murderer. Although this wasn’t an interrogation, he would listen and hang onto every word looking for that sliver.
