by Ray Garton
"Exactly. That's what I thought. And after seeing her in the bedroom with Marie that night, going up in smoke in front of me like that, I started thinking about it again. And her name… Lily. It was a hunch. So the next day, I went online and looked up this Lilith woman. I learned a lot. I didn't believe any of it at first. Didn't want to believe it. But I knew, deep down inside, I knew it was true.
"One of the things I learned was how to keep Lily out of my house. I followed the instructions in one of the books. Then I waited. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat. I tried not to drink, but didn't try hard enough, I guess. She didn't come back.
"But during the next week, I noticed a change in the house. Things got worse. I'd have these flashes of violent and uncontrollable anger. But I tried to keep my mind off my anger by burying myself research. I read everything I could find about Lilith, learned about her, tried to figure her out. And I slowly realized exactly what she'd been doing." He leaned back in the booth, rubbed the back of his neck a moment, then leaned forward again. "Are you religious, Robby?"
"Funny. She asked me the same thing."
"Really? Well, I guess religious is the wrong word. Maybe spiritual is more accurate. Do you believe in a god?"
"I guess so. We go to church once in a while, and I -"
"No, I mean, do you really believe in a higher power? A force of goodness?"
"Well… “
”You're undecided. So was I. In fact, I didn't believe in anything. I went to AA before I got married, and they teach alcoholics to depend on a higher power, but I never really believed it. I used it, but I never believed it. But when I began to realize what Lily was and what she was doing to us, that changed. I mean, you won't see me in church, and I sure as hell don't send checks to the fucking 700 Club. But I definitely changed."
Robby was growing more and more tense and impatient and didn't want to wait any longer. "What is she?"
"I'm sorry, I got sidetracked. I'll get to that in a minute. Things got worse at home for all of us. I'd get these violent urges and I'd have to break something. I broke most of the breakable things in my office, I think, and a few dishes in the kitchen, for no reason at all. I realized we were all going through a sort of withdrawal. From Lily. I don't think Marie or Gordon knew what I'd done to keep her away. It was in plain sight and pretty hard to miss, but they weren't paying much attention to anything then. But I'm sure they suspected something, because Lily didn't show up at night anymore. And that's what was doing it. She'd gotten into our blood. She'd made us crave what she did to us. I guess… that's what pushed Marie over the edge.
"She and Gordon got into a fight. She chased him out to the garage and took… took my, urn… she used the… chainsaw. On him. Then me. My face… my arm. I… shot her. Killed her." He closed his eyes a moment and shuddered.
“As they were carrying me out to the ambulance, I saw her. Lily. Across the street and down two houses. Standing on the sidewalk. I went crazy, started screaming something about demons and evil. They thought I was nuts, of course, in shock, or something. In the ambulance, I realized I'd better cool it or they'd put me in the psych ward. But I've never been able to get that image out of my head: Lily standing on the sidewalk, smiling, with those two fucking dogs.”
"Sodom and Gomorrah?" Robby asked.
"No. They weren't the dogs she has now. These were two Dobermans. Cain and Abel."
"More biblical names."
"Yeah. Cute, huh? She has an interesting sense of humor. I tried to kill one of the Dobermans. I'm not sure which. About a year later." He laughed in a way that frightened Robby for a moment. "Well, what I did should have killed it, anyway. Her, too. A normal person – a human – would have died." He removed his left glove, revealing the hand that had so frightened Jen. Light reflected dully on the thin metal tendons and knobby knuckles as Prosky turned the palm up, doubled his fist with soft metallic clicks and hisses, then snapped his fist back abruptly.
Robby flinched as a deadly, shining twelve-inch blade shot from the heel of Prosky's metal hand.
"I slashed her dog with it," Prosky whispered through clenched teeth. "Then I put it into her stomach, twisted it, cut up, then down. I expected her guts to fall out onto my shoes. I was looking forward to it. But she just smiled. She laughed while I watched her wounds close. They were gone in seconds." He pressed the tip of the blade to the table's edge and pushed it back into his hand until it locked with a click; then he put the glove back on and leaned close to Robby. "I've been just a few steps behind her all this time, but now I've finally found her again. And I'm scared, Robby. In less than a week she's done to your neighborhood what it took her six months to do to mine. She's moving faster than ever now. I was hoping to find someone like you to help me stop her, but now I don't know. It might be too late. Things might have gone too far already."
Robby's eyes stung with misty tears, not because he was crying, but because he was terrified. The back of his neck seemed to crawl up into his scalp and he had to take a steadying breath before he could speak.
“What is she?" he breathed.
"I know it sounds insane. I thought so, too. But you know, don't you, that there's something very wrong with her."
Robby nodded.
"She's not human. Your new neighbor is a daughter of Lilith. Conceived ages ago on the shores of the Red Sea in an orgy of demons. She's a sexual vampire. A succubus. She's sucking the life – the soul – right out of you.”
After telling his story, Prosky explained that his wife's brother, Anthony Scolari – a very wealthy and prominent businessman in Chicago with a lot of connections, some of a rather dubious nature – had come to the hospital as soon as he heard what had happened and immediately made arrangements for Prosky to be treated by a cosmetic surgeon Scolari knew. Insisting that everyone leave Prosky's room in intensive care, Scolari said, "This may not be the time for it, Ronnie, but I've got to ask. What happened? I know my sister, and I know she wouldn't just do this. So what really happened, huh?"
"You… won't believe me."
"Let me decide what I will and won't believe, okay?"
Groggy from the drugs that had been pumped into him, Prosky said, "If you want… I'll explain it in detail later. For now, I'll tell you this. One person is responsible for what happened. But you have to swear… to keep it between us. I can't… I'll never be able to… prove it. Don't… tell the police."
"I never intended to tell the police."
"Our neighbor… Lily Kress.”
“You're sure?"
"Dead sure."
"All right, then. We'll talk about it more when you're better. Don't worry about anything. I'm making sure you're in good hands."
Lily was not mentioned again for nearly four months. Prosky was still in the hospital, learning to walk again and adjusting to his new arm, which had been arranged and paid for by his brother-in-law. Prosky had never seen a prosthesis quite like it and asked why he'd been given such an unusual arm. He was told that the arm met the specifications given by Scolari.
A week before Prosky was to leave the hospital, his brother-in-law paid him a visit. They exchanged small talk for a while, then Scolari said, "Would you like to tell me what happened?"
"Not really."
"How about if I insist?"
"Look, Anthony, I don't really know what happened myself."
Scolari sat on the bedside and spoke quietly. "Look, Ronnie, let's be straight, okay? I think you know that I do a lot more than buy and sell stocks and run a little corporation. I think you know I've got some friends who do things that aren't quite within the law. We've never talked about it, but it's always been there, right? I'm sure Marie told you plenty. So this isn't going to come as a big surprise. I had a friend put a tail on your neighbor lady. Frankly, I was planning to have her killed. Okay? I mean, I was pretty shook up, you know? She moved. To Indiana. My man followed her. A week after she settled into her new place, we lost contact with him. He was found beside a creek, several miles from h
er neighborhood. He was also found in a garbage dump about a mile from there. And we never found all of him. So… are you sure you don't want to tell me what happened?"
Prosky was shocked, but he still did not tell his brother-in-law the whole story.
"You say this woman's responsible for what happened but you can't prove it, so you can't go to the police, and yet you mean to tell me you're turning down an offer of help from an outside source? You think this is all her fault, and yet you can honestly say you don't want her to pay for it?"
"You want to know the truth, Anthony? I'd like to kill her myself."
Scolari smiled. He lifted the prosthetic arm and carefully removed a pin from the wrist. "Do this," he said, nodding at the arm as he held out an arm, made a fist and snapped it back.
Prosky did as he was told and the blade appeared.
Scolari was still smiling. He cleaned his manicured fingernails with the steel pin as he spoke. "It's your decision. You can forget it if you want. You can even have another arm if you want. But I've got somebody else watching her now. I know where she is. It's up to you."
Prosky had been following her ever since.
Robby told him everything. He was hesitant at first, then spoke with more ease, relieved to finally face the fact that something was not right, and even more relieved that he did not have to face it alone. When he spoke of Jen, he lost his control and began to cry, unable to continue.
"It's okay, Robby," Prosky said. "At least you're seeing it now, before it's too late for you. I'm not going to lie, it might be too late for them. But maybe not. You might be able to help them."
"Huh-how?"
"Remember I told you I never used to believe in a higher power? That all of this changed that?"
Robby nodded.
"Well, like I said, I'm not gonna send money to any of these tall-haired, diamond-ring-wearing televangelists with a private jet and a few limos. But I do believe in… something. Some force of goodness. And a force of evil. I know that's a touchy topic of conversation, but we don't have time right now to debate our differences of opinion about the… the creator, or… whatever. So, I’ll just say this. I think there’s a piece of both of those forces in all of us. Good and evil. Call it whatever you want, I think we’ve got it in all of us. And it’s up to us which side tips the scale. Sometimes we can influence that scale for others, too. Like right now. Your family. You love them, don’t you?” “Course I do,” Robby croaked. He wanted to say, This is bullshit! Horror movie bullshit! But he couldn't, because he knew he would not believe his own words.
"Well, Robby, you need that love right now. It can help you tip the scales in the right direction for your family. Lorelle is trying to suck that love out of you and replace it with something… bad. She creates hatred where there was once love. You’re seeing it in your family right now. But she can only do that if she’s allowed to do it.” He took a drink of his coffee.
Robby gulped down the lump in his throat. “Well? What do I do? What do we do? To stop her, I mean."
Prosky put his mug down on the table with a thunk and contentedly smacked his lips. His smile was terribly distorted, but it was still a smile. "I thought you'd never ask.”
Chapter 15
If I Had a Hammer
Everyone was home. Karen and Jen did not leave that morning. Karen called in sick and when she realized that Jen was not getting ready for school, she asked why.
"I don't feel good," Jen said.
Karen had hoped to be alone, but Jen didn't look well. "Okay," Karen said. "Whatever you think."
It was the only time they spoke that morning. They watched television silently, and Karen went back and forth to the coffeepot, trying hard to stay awake. She felt unbearably weary.
George came back from the radio station three hours after leaving the house. Neither Karen nor Jen asked why he was back so early and he did not offer an explanation. He really didn't want to go home because he knew Karen had not gone to work, but he couldn't function. There were ball bearings tied to his eyelids, his shoes were full of metal shavings and his brain was covered with a thick layer of dust. Trying to work was useless, so he gave up and went home.
Karen and Jen were in the living room and they both looked awful. He stuck his head in for a moment, then turned and headed down the hall, pausing a moment to think, they're sick, too. Maybe they need something. Then: Fuck 'em. He went to the bedroom and began changing his clothes. He stopped, naked except for his socks, to frown at himself in the mirror over Karen's dresser.
“Fuck 'em?" he muttered, puzzled by his own callous attitude. He thought, They're sick. Karen takes care of you when you're sick. What's the -
Monroe hissed, shot out from under the bed and clawed at George's feet, coming so close that George felt the cat's saliva splatter his ankle. Anger spewed up from George's middle like lava from a volcano as he kicked Monroe against the closet door, then reached down and took a handful of the cat's flabby flesh. Monroe yowled as George carried him out of the bedroom and down the hall to the front door.
Karen was already out of the recliner and standing in the living room doorway, fists clenched, eyes narrowed. "No, George, no!" she shouted.
"Everybody else on the street lets their cats outside! What makes this cat any different?"
"He's never been an outdoor cat. He can't take care of himself, he'll get hurt!"
"My ass," George growled, opening the front door. "He'll kill anything that moves! He's a cat, not a goddamned retarded blind child!" He flung Monroe out the door; the cat spun head over tail through the air before rolling over the grass with a pathetic screech.
Karen ran after him in her bathrobe, crying, "You son of a bitch! You goddamned monster!"
She swept Monroe up in her arms, but George didn't stay to watch any more. He turned away, knowing she'd bring the cat back inside. Then he froze. He suddenly realized he was naked.
Jen was staring at him. He didn't make a habit of parading naked in front of his daughter. He felt a rush of embarrassment and thought that she was probably embarrassed, too. But she wasn't.
Jen's gaze was aimed straight at his crotch. Her left index finger was locked between her lips and her checks were sucked in deep beneath her cheekbones. Her right hand was under her robe, between her legs. Her eyes were narrowed in the same way they would be if she were smiling. He realized she’d been watching him for a while, ever since he’d come out into the living room. It looked almost as if she were -
George hurried down the hall, trying not to think about it.
Back in his bedroom, he put on jeans and a blue chambray shirt, ignoring the slight tingle that passed through his cock when he thought of the way Jen was sucking on her finger…
* * * *
Robby knew everyone was home before he went into the house. Both cars were in the driveway and after seeing her still in her robe on his way out that morning, he knew Jen hadn't caught the bus to school. Inside, he hurried straight to his room, giving no one time to speak to him. He dropped his books on his desk, removed his coat and sat on his bed.
He felt as if someone had been pounding his brain with a meat tenderizer. He'd been told too much too fast and was still trying to process all of it. On top of that, he was still heavy with fatigue.
But it ain't the flu, he thought morbidly.
Before dropping Robby off at the corner, Prosky had given him several pages printed off the internet. He'd folded them into a small square and put them in his back pocket.
"Read these today," Prosky said, "then meet me here tonight at nine. Bring a sack of burnt woodchips from your fireplace and a dry towel."
Robby took the papers from his pocket and laid back on his bed to read them. On the first page Prosky had written, From-DEVILS AND ANGELS by Thelonius Pascali, 1962. A quarter of the way down the page was the heading, LILITH AND HER DAUGHTERS.
At first, Robby thought it was the same story Lorelle had told him the night he first saw her sculpture. But as he read
on, he realized she had been careful to leave out a few important details.
According to Mr. Pascali, after Lilith fled the Garden of Eden and Adam told god of her rebellion, god sent three angels named Sanvi, Sansanvi and Semangelaf to retrieve her. By the time they found her on the desolate shore of the Red Sea, she was engaged in sex with countless demons and giving birth to a brood of baby girls – as many as a hundred a day, many of which she ate alive between couplings to appease her hunger, which was almost as voracious as her sexual appetite. When she saw the three angels, Lilith was enraged and told them to go away. They told her they'd been instructed by god to return her to Eden. With the blood of her daughters on her lips, she laughingly told them there was nothing in Eden that interested her. She was perfectly happy with her demon lovers.
The angels were appalled by what they saw and watched in horror as Lilith's daughters – winged, reptilian creatures – crawled through the dirt, maturing at an incredibly rapid rate, some of them writhing with the insatiable demons before flying away. Once again, the angels asked Lilith to return with them, saying they dreaded relaying to god what they had seen and could not leave her behind in such decadence knowing that she was feeding on her own infants.
Lilith still refused, but she sneeringly promised that if the angels were to write their names near a newborn, she would spare the child.
As a result of that promise, parents took precautions for centuries to protect their babies from Lilith. Until a girl was twenty days old and a boy eight years, parents would draw a circle in charcoal on the wall above the child's bed containing the words "Adam and Eve, barring Lilith" and on the door they would write "Sanvi, Sansanvi, Semangelaf."
"But what of Lilith's legions of daughters, the succubi?" Pascali wrote. "Infants were of no interest to them. Instead, they engaged in another of their mother's favorite activities: seduction. Stealing into bedrooms by night and placing all other members of the household into a deep sleep, the succubus seduced men – sometimes women and even children – in their sleep, sucking from them not blood but their energy, vitality, and any goodness they might process; the ability to give, to feel compassion, or even to love those closest to them.
