Authors: Daniel Coughlin
Foot over foot, Timmy made his way toward the restrooms. When he got to the corner, he stopped. He looked back at Terrance.
Terrance had control over Garth and Winny. Timmy took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and stuck his head around the corner. He retracted quickly.
Nothing.
Relieved, he swung into the hallway. The women’s bathroom was on the left, men’s on the right.
Which one should he go to first?
He chose the women’s. It might be a bad idea. It might not. Either way, he pushed the door open with the barrel of his shotgun and slowly stepped inside.
The fluorescents were bright. The electrical buzz coming from the numerous overhead light bulbs was unnerving. There were three stalls on the right side across from the large vanity mirror. Odd to notice, there wasn’t much graffiti on the tiled walls. The mirrors were in good shape too. It didn’t seem right for a liquor store bathroom to be this clean. Most liquor stores held drunken literature scrawled across the walls.
Lowering himself to his knees, he scanned the floor of all three stalls—no feet. There was no trail of blood, either.
Come to think of it, there
wasn’t a blood trail leading to the men’s room.
Maybe the guy had stopped the bleeding.
Still, where else could he have gone?
Timmy stood in front of the first blue stall door. He didn’t hesitate. Nervous, but too anxious to wait, he kicked the door open. He aimed his shotgun at chest level.
No one.
The next stall, same thing, empty.
No one was in the third stall either.
Relieved, Timmy left the women’s restroom. He crossed the hallway and entered the men’s room.
As the women’s door closed, he heard Terrance yell, “Hurry up! We need to fly!”
“I’m on it. Give me a minute.” Timmy shouted back. He didn’t know why he cared anymore.
So a guy disappeared with a gaping hole in his chest.
Maybe it was a good thing. He didn’t want to kill anybody. If the guy was dead, he would be Timmy’s first homicide. But he’d disappeared into thin air. Obviously he was still alive and Terrance was right, they needed to
fly
.
Timmy stared at the men’s room door for a moment. He backed up a couple steps. For a number of reasons, he was becoming frightened and paranoid. A scenario played out in his head:
He’d turn around. The psychic guy would be standing behind him. He’d have that queer grin on his face. He’d be bleeding from a grapefruit sized wound in his chest.
Timmy closed his eyes. He put his right foot behind the left and leaned backward. He spun around. His feet landed steady.
Every light in the store suddenly went out.
5
“Fuck this!” Terrance yelled as he leaped over Winny’s legs, rounded the corner and shuffled to the door. “I’m out, Timmy. Enough is enough!”
Just before leaving the dark store, he placed his hand on the front door handle, but he stopped moving. The store had become eerily silent. It felt creepy. He felt like he was alone, yet if he were to turn around, everyone would be standing right behind him, staring at him, ready to kill him. He closed his eyes. His shoulders shifted, then his neck.
He opened his eyes.
There was nothing.
No breathing and no shoes shuffling.
It was dead silent.
Something must have happened to Timmy.
He knew it. That crazy guy was alive and he’d killed Timmy.
Terrance opened the front door. As he stepped outside, he met Cherri’s gaze and said, “We need to leave. Timmy or no Timmy, shit’s about to go down in a bad way. I’ve only had a feeling this bad once in my life, and it was
fuckin
’ bad. So let’s go.” He finished, grabbed Cherri’s arm and pulled her off the curb.
Cherri moved forward, shrugged, and stopped. Terrance was suddenly tugged backward. Cherri tried to shuck her arm free. With three quick jerks, she finally yanked her arm from Terrance’s grip. She tore away from him and disappeared into the darkness of the store.
Shaking his hands as he left, Terrance continued across the parking lot toward the truck. “Better off on my own, anyway.”
Chapter 7
1
Father Leslie Gardner sat in the darkness of his living room staring out of his picture window. The panoramic view of cornfields lightly rustling in the wind soothed him from where he sat.
Beyond the stalks of yellow and green, he could see miles of rolling hills, Highway 26—until it disappeared into the largest of the hills, the radiant light of the small downtown area and he could see Buggy’s Liquor.
The moonlight gave the room a bluish hue, and illuminated Gardner’s distinguished face. Often, when he couldn’t sleep, he’d sit in his reclining chair and watch the world through his window. It calmed him, while relaxing his aging mind. But tonight was different. Something was happening at Buggy’s Liquor, the small
mom and pop joint
that sat four hundred yards from his property line. Leaning forward, he ran his calloused fingers through his silver hair. He thought he heard screaming. Gunshots rang out, he was quite sure of it and the lights at the store were out.
Was there a power outage?
If that were the case, then his lights would be out too but they weren’t. Turning in his creaky gray reclining chair, he assured himself that his kitchen lights were on. The dim light bounced a glare off the lime green walls in the hallway—the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room.
Gardner turned to the window. Again, he heard screaming.
Maybe it was the air conditioner?
Sometimes, the vents let out a slow hum. The vent at the base of the hallway hissed and the flow of air whistled. But he didn’t want to call the police unless he was sure that something bad was happening.
Straining to see beneath the tall lampposts that cast spots of halogen light throughout the parking lot, Gardner witnessed a black man—holding a pistol—barrel out of the liquor store. The man had a bald head that glimmered in the moonlight. He ran toward an old pick-up truck that was parked near the back of the lot.
“What’s going on down there?” Gardner whispered to himself. His forehead scrunched into a frown. He was concerned. Misguided as they were, he appreciated the Gasper boys. His concern turned into something stronger. He felt eyes watching him. He’d felt this upsetting intuition many times during the course of his career as a holy man. It was evil’s eyes upon him. He felt the same intuition when he met his wife, Donna. His wife wasn’t evil, no. But she’d been possessed by an evil similar to what he felt now. He wanted to wake her, but she was asleep in their bedroom, upstairs.
Donna was thirty-two years old when Gardner was called-in to exercise the unholy presence that had invaded her body. She was his twenty-seventh exorcism; that was thirty years ago. Now, the memory seemed close. He remembered the day well and that it had been his last exorcism.
For years, Gardner traveled across the country fighting evil. Some cases were fraudulent. The twenty-seven that he counted were authentic. The ceremony and rites of exorcism which were written in the holy books were not as useful as he’d been educated to believe. The power to expel the
unholy
was in the strength of one’s faith; faith in goodness and Gardner had much of that. Sure, he had impure thoughts. He was a self- proclaimed sinner, but he fought for good. He acknowledged its strength. He denounced the weakness of evil. When someone saw as many miracles and demons in their life as Father Leslie Gardner had—they had no other choice, but to believe in the higher power of good and evil. With Gardner’s faith came strength. He could pull the unholy parasite from its prey. A demon could only inflict as much damage as God allowed and if God allowed Father Gardner to seek out and help the possessed, then usually
He
had said
enough
to the Unholy One.
Donna Shaney spent her youth as a drug addict. She laughed in the face of God until one day she looked in her mirror and didn’t recognize her appearance. The reflection was only a resembled image. There was something evil living inside her. She could feel it gnawing at her soul. Her eyes were black. Her reflection laughed back at her. She was being taken over and couldn’t stop it. Finally, she was unable to battle the evil which possessed her.
The decision to get alternative help occurred on the day she nearly devoured her brother’s infant child. Silvia Shaney, Donna’s grandmother, discovered Donna wondering the streets and brought her home. The Shaney’s hadn’t seen Donna in a long time. She’d been reported missing years earlier, but her family knew she was around. She’d been spotted by relatives and acquaintances, lurking in the darkness with her criminal friends. She was a drug addict, a
fiend
.
Donna’s brother fainted when he witnessed his sister’s eyes bulge forward from their sockets. Her face stretched forward, pulling her skin. Later on, when asked about that horrible day, he said that he thought her skull was going to rip through her face. Donna’s sister-in-law grabbed the infant. She ran out of the house with the baby. The evil that possessed Donna wasn’t able to harm the child.
Silvia called the first Catholic Church in the
Yellow Pages
. Silvia ended up calling many churches and finally, through the network of priests, she found Gardner.
He flew in the next day from Miami. He’d been working with survivors of a very sinister cult. They had met for lunch, but neither of them ate their food. Then he met with Donna.
Upon their first encounter, he became aware that the demon Sammael had possessed her.
Many of Gardner’s counterparts disapproved of Gardner’s unstructured methods, and in turn, he disagreed with some of their organized beliefs. But they let him conduct business. None of the other priests could deny that Gardner carried out the lord’s supernatural work. He was special. Many of the Priests and Cardinals determined that Gardner was no longer catholic. He’d gone through the process and been educated as such, but his line of work had taken him to a higher state of holiness. He only believed in God and his son. There was no difference between religions. There was God and Jesus and everything else was human interruption. God dwelled in the hearts of all his children. The strength of evil was only as strong as the Father permitted.
Why would he permit this kind of evil?
To test. Like a professor tests his students in the classroom, God tested his children in life. By testing high, his children could fulfill greatness. There were no certainties in life, never. But Gardner believed that striving for goodness was the way to eternal happiness. Tests came every day. They ranged from white lies to murder.
Gardner was placed in the presence of Donna Shaney for more than one reason. One of them being that she’d ignored the goodness inside of her. She had been seduced by darkness. She had let her gift of life shrivel up and burn. The gift of life was fragile and now, her life was draining with each passing second. Gardner didn’t know if he could save her, but he would try. He hoped that he would be successful.
After a person was exorcised, they usually came around to believing again. Often, they strived for goodness. The latter—insanity—didn’t set well. If the victim accepted their possession as insanity, in the end, insanity would take them and the
Evil One
would be pleased.
Donna was near death when Sammael was extracted. When the unholy got close to killing its host, its anger was overwhelming and it was frightening when it failed. But evil had no strength over the greatness of God.
Sammael had to go.
So Gardner studied Sammael and upon first meeting the unholy demon, Sammael tried to convince Gardner that he was anyone but Sammael. He said that he was the devil. He promised that he was Saint Christopher. He even claimed to be Donna’s aborted child.
The true identity of the demon was revealed to Gardner in one of his visions. His strength created a tunnel of communication in which God spoke to Gardner. Only a few possessed this gift. It was revealed that Sammael inhabited Donna. Gardner knew this, because it was revealed to him through the purity of God’s voice.
The exorcism didn’t last very long. After Sammael left, Donna was severely dehydrated. She was unable to hold liquids or food. Her tendons, bones and organs were fighting ultimate failure. The twisted physical agony and torment was too much for her physical body. Gardner had made it just in time. Donna fought to keep her life.
One night, about a year after the exorcism, Donna tracked down Father Gardner. She wanted to thank him. She found him by way of the priest who had originally assessed her situation, Father Denton. Having been in the area, Gardner agreed to see her.
He was taken by her beauty. They met at a small diner on the Iowa side of the Mississippi River, which separated the state from Wisconsin.
Gardner barely recognized Donna. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been weary and beaten. When one is borrowed by the unholy, their physical features change. Donna didn’t look like the woman he’d seen in pictures before the exorcism either. She was stunning. Gardner’s heart rate began to speed. He was used to witnessing great evils, and his ability to stay calm was strong. But Donna managed to stir him.
The diner was bright. Gardner sat in the back at a table was near the exit. He drank black coffee while staring out the window. He looked to the front of the diner when the glass doors opened. The cold air vacuumed out. He looked up from his brown table, locking his eyes on her. Her skin was vibrant, no longer pasty and dry. There was a touch of sun to her skin, appearing lightly tanned. Her shoulders were freckled and her hazel eyes danced with life. Gardner was nervous. His heart fluttered. He couldn’t turn away from her. It seemed that she was sent from heaven. In that moment, Gardner knew that Donna would be his wife. She would take him away from the underworld and the demons that he fought. She would become his destiny. She would show him how beautiful life could be.