Unclean Spirit (21 page)

CHAPTER
EIGHTY
-
FIVE

              "Lukas, what's wrong? What are you doing?" Lillie had been awakened by the noise Lukas was making in their bedroom. 

              "I have to get dressed." 

              "But why? What's happening?" 

              "I have to go to the Forsythe ranch." 

              Lillie glanced at the bedside clock. "Lukas, it's two in the morning! What in the world is wrong with you? Nobody called, I would have heard the phone ring." 

              "No, there was no phone call. I just have to go. I don't know why." Lukas wasn't lying to his wife, he didn’t know why he felt compelled to get to the Forsythe place as soon as possible. 

              "Okay, I don't have a clue about what's going on here but if you must go I'll go with you." 

              "No, I have to go alone and you have to stay here with the boys." 

              "We'll take the boys with us." 

              "NO!" 

              Lillie couldn't remember a time in their entire marriage when Lukas had used such a commanding, and demanding, tone of voice with her. It shocked and silenced her. 

              "Lillie," began a penitent Lukas,"I love you and our sons more than life itself. I honestly don't understand why I need to go to the Forsythe's; I do know that something awaits me there, something that would harm you and the boys." 

              "Lukas, I have never been more frightened in my life than I am right now; not for myself and not even for the boys, but for you." Although she tried, Lillie could not prevent the tears from spilling down her face. "I've trusted you for the past fifteen years and I don't intend to stop now. You do what you need to do, Lukas Duncan, and then you get your butt back here to your family!" For all of her bravado, Lillie was collapsing inside. 

              "I'll do my best, my love."

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX

              "Starr! Paul! Are you down there?" Tamara was shouting at the cellar door because, no matter how hard she tried, she could not get it open, and neither could anyone else. 

              "They are down there, ma'am," Vincent calmly disclosed. 

              "How do you know that? You've never even met them." 

              "Trust that I know, and trust me when I tell you that I must go down there with them and you must not." 

              "Starr is my daughter, Paul is my husband. My place is with them." 

              "Mrs. Forsythe, this is very serious business and, as hard as it might be for you to hear, the love you feel for your daughter and husband would be a weapon in the hands of the Demonic. And make no mistake, that is exactly what we are dealing with here--an unclean spirit that is more malevolent than can even be imagined. What you see here in this kitchen is mere child's play to the Demonic." 

              "But I don't understand why this is happening to us!" Tamara's utter distress was evident in her voice. "I know what I see and smell and feel, but I can't comprehend any of it! What have we done to deserve this horror?" 

              Vincent's heart went out to the woman. "We may never know what brought the Demonic into your lives and, for now at least, the 'why' doesn't even matter. The paramount concern at this moment is, of course, the welfare of your husband and daughter. 

              "Magyar," Vincent turned his attention away from Tamara, "I will need your help." And the two men stepped outside into the wet night in order that they might speak privately. 

              Unable to endure the environs of the kitchen, Patsy, Marybeth, and Charlie had retreated to the living room. They had not even noticed when Lukas had entered the front door that had previously been left wide open. When Lukas spoke, Patsy peed her pants, Marybeth turned deathly pale, and Charlie exclaimed, "Gawdamn sumabitch!" 

              "Okay, it's okay! It's me, Lukas Duncan! I'm sorry, but the door was open. I didn't mean to scare you." 

              "Scare us? You nigh-on killed us! No offense, Preachur, but what the sam hill are you doin' here?" 

              "I'm not sure, Charlie. I just knew that I had to come. 

              "What's going on here tonight?"

              "Well, sir, why don't ya go have yerself a look in the kitchen?"

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

              After having herded everyone except Vincent and Penelope out of the kitchen and into the living room, a totally solemn Magyar filled the group in on what was going to transpire. 

              "Vincent is removing the cellar door from its hinges. Once that's done, he and I will go down into the basement. Vincent will assess the situation and attempt deliverance." 

              "Assess, attempt, deliverance? What in the hell are you talking about?" Tamara had not calmed down the least little bit. 

              "Tamara, please," implored Saul, "hear him out." 

              "Mrs. Forsythe, this has to be extremely difficult for you, but we haven't time for in-depth explanations. Suffice it to say, there is an evil entity in the cellar, one that has probably taken possession of your husband and, quite possibly, harmed your daughter. Vincent Palmary is going to do his level best to rid your husband of the offending spirit." 

              So, there it was, thought Tamara, finally out in the open. Her husband was possessed by a demon! 

              Lukas addressed Mag, "I'm a Pastor, a man of God. Surely I should assist the two of you."

              "Yes, Pastor, your presence would be welcomed. But you must abide by the guidelines I will give you." 

              "What about the rest of us," Patsy inquired. "what can we do to help?" 

              "As trite as it may sound," Mag answered, "you can pray. Pray for Vincent's success and Mr. Forsythe's deliverance. And, no matter what happens, do
not
enter the cellar." 

              "Mag," Saul interjected, "I don't relish the idea of going into that basement but you might need medical assistance down there." 

              "That's true, my friend, and that's exactly why we can't place you at risk. We will need your skills once the deliverance has been completed. 

              "Now, anything else?" 

              Resigned to what was about to transpire, Tamara said, "Go with God." Her sentiments were echoed by the group that would remain behind. 

CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

              Starr and Paul were oblivious to anything that was occurring outside of the basement. The pulpit that had earlier threatened Starr now hovered in the air no more than two feet from her. Starr trembled, not only out of fear but also secondary to the frigidly cold air in the cellar. There was an odor that wafted through the room in waves, an odor that was extremely repugnant but unidentifiable. The single light bulb that Starr had turned on upon initially entering the basement did little to illuminate anything except the pulpit that blocked Starr's view of her father. 

              Paul was no longer Paul. He looked similar to Paul Forsythe, but the soul of the man had been ejected from his corporeal figure and replaced with a spirit that was older than old and blacker than black. There was nothing this spirit feared save God and Satan, and
It
knew that the latter would not harm
It
. The human body that the spirit occupied meant nothing to
It
, it was merely a vessel that gave
It
form, allowing
It
to transfer
It's
essence from the ancient and revered wood that had so recently reattracted
It
. Humans had fashioned the wood into a podium from which they could worship and summon the ancient spirit who would prepare the way for the Antichrist’s arrival. The lectern, which had traveled from country to country over many hundreds of years, had most recently been shielded from the Demonic by the Seraphims that appeared as orbs of light in the night skies of Marfa, Texas. Once relocated to Van Horn, however, the Demonic was free to infiltrate the structure, something
It
had not been able to do since the pulpit had left Borley Rectory in Great Britain. 

              The spirit existed for no other reason than to torment humankind and, in so doing, challenge God's dominion over the universe.
It
was pure negative energy, energy that was the antithesis of all that is traditionally perceived by Homo sapiens as being moral, just, and virtuous. 

              The spirit sensed that this human man's life force had not yet been destroyed; indeed, it's wavering white presence, just to the right of the man's body reminded the spirit that
It
had not yet completed
It's
work in this place.

CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE

              No sooner had Vincent taken the cellar door off its hinges than Penelope was at Starr's side. Vincent gave Mag and Lukas their final instructions. Then, shortly thereafter, Vincent, Mag, and Lukas, all with strong flashlights in hand, followed Penelope into the basement.

CHAPTER NINETY

              "Starr? It's Lukas Duncan. I'm here with Vincent Palmary and Dr. Feener's friend, Magyar Gehrke. We've come to help." 

              Starr looked up the basement steps and a feeling of relief swept over her. "Thank God!" 

              Having been previously instructed by Vincent to not visibly react to anything they might see, hear, or feel, Mag and Lukas remained quiet, despite the fright they felt when they saw the floating pulpit. They could not, however, stop themselves from shivering in response to the cold or putting their hands to their noses when they inhaled the sickening odor that permeated the air. 

              "Ms. Forsythe, I'm Vincent Palmary." Vincent introduced himself as he joined Starr at the bottom of the steps. "I need you to trust me and let me proceed without interruption.” 

              "Can you do that?" 

              "Yes." 

              "All right. Take your cat and go upstairs." 

              "But..." Starr began to object. 

              "Now, please." 

              "I'll do whatever else you say, but I can't leave. I won't!" 

              Although Vincent wanted the woman gone--for her own welfare--he understood her need to remain near her father. He hoped he wouldn't regret his decision to allow her to stay. "If you stay, you must do as I say." 

              "I will. I will," Starr promised as she scooped Penelope up into her arms. 

              "Okay, then, all of you, stay back here and let me do what it is I do." 

              His skin on fire with itching, Vincent stepped past the pulpit and shined his flashlight directly onto Paul's face. What he saw there, however, was not Paul Forsythe, and he immediately knew that as he gazed into
It's
eyes.  

              From the bag he carried, Vincent removed a large crucifix and held it close to Paul's body. 

              "In the name of Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, I command you to tell me your name." 

              The voice that emanated from Paul's mouth was coarse and reverberated off the basement walls. 

              "
You
command Us? We think not, Vincent Palmary!" 

             
Vincent was not surprised that
It
knew his name. He remained calm. 

              "In the name of Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, I command you to tell me your name." Whereupon, Vincent took a vial of holy water from his bag and flung some on Paul's body. 

              The shriek that came from Paul's mouth was loud enough to rattle the basement windows. 

              "In the name of Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, I command you to tell me your name."

              "Our name is Legion: We are many." It
announced as
It
caused Paul's body to levitate mere inches off the ground and slowly rock to and fro. 

              Knowing the demon's name would give Vincent additional ammunition in his quest to deliver Paul Forsythe so he persisted. 

              "In the name of Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, I command you to tell me your name." 

              Paul's body ceased its rocking motion, but remained slightly suspended in air as
It
spoke.

             
"It's your Pa, Lukas. Have you missed me?" 

             
Lukas, who had been watching the proceedings in stunned silence, was utterly unnerved when he heard the voice that emerged from Paul's mouth. It was, without a doubt, the voice of his dead father.  

             
"What's wrong, son? Feeling a little guilty? 

              "Goddamn, my ass hurts!" 

             
"Sweet Jesus!" Lukas exclaimed. 

              "Pastor! It's demonic trickery. Don't take the bait." 

              So distraught was Lukas that he didn't even hear Vincent's voice. 

              Mag grabbed hold of Lukas' arm and shook it rather forcefully. 

              "That is
not
your father. Don't be taken in by
Its
deceptions." 

              Lukas did hear Mag's words but he wasn't so sure he believed them. Was all of this happening to the Forsythe family because of him? Had his father come back to exact his punishment for having been murdered by his own son? The senior Duncan had been a truly evil man so it wouldn't surprise Lukas if he hurt innocent bystanders in his quest for revenge. 

              "Pastor, do you hear me?" Mag asked. "That is not your father. You must take control of your feelings." 

              "But, that
is
my father's voice." 

              "No, it's not," Mag argued. "It's nothing more than an imitation. The Demonic will do whatever
It
can to weaken us by pushing our most sensitive buttons. We can't allow that to happen."

             
"Oh, Lukey-boy, how's sweet
Ruby
?
Bet she misses her Pa's
attention." 

             
"You son-of-a-bitch!" Lukas cried as he wrenched free of Mag's grasp and ran toward Paul's body. 

             
"Temper, temper, son," It
said as the floating pulpit abandoned its stationary position and slammed squarely into Lukas' chest, knocking him to the hard concrete floor. 

             
"Hell, son, ain't that a hoot? You was the one what brought that pulpit here and now its gone and turned on you. Ain't life a bitch?" 

             
Starr and Mag rushed to Lukas; Penelope left Starr's arms and planted herself in front of the hovering pulpit as though daring it to move again; Vincent stood his ground. 

              "Is he breathing?" Starr asked Mag. 

              "Yes, he's breathing and he has a pulse. I think he was just knocked unconscious. Saul is upstairs, please go and get him." 

             
"Not a good idea," It
said as the basement steps exploded into a barrage of wooden projectiles. 

              "Narancsíz!" Mag yelled out as he pushed Starr to the floor and did his best to protect Lukas from the potentially dangerous fragments of wood. 

              "It's too gawddamn quiet. Reckon someone should go see what's what?" Charlie sure didn't want to go near the basement but he was genuinely concerned about everyone who was down there. He had seen enough horror flicks to know that demons are not mute. What he didn't realize, though, was that this particular demon had, for the time being at least, chosen to suppress the transmission of sound out of the cellar. 

              "I think that we should follow Mr. Palmary's instructions and stay put," Patsy offered. 

              "For now," Tamara halfheartedly agreed. 

              Having managed to pull Lukas out of harm's way, Starr and Mag sat catching their respective breaths. 

              Penelope maintained her pulpit vigil. 

              Vincent started to pray. 

              In the name of Jesus Christ I command you to depart without doing harm to Paul Forsythe or anyone else in this house. I command you to go straight to Jesus Christ to dispose of as He will. I command you to never return. 

              "Réka is here with us, Hungarian."

              The words jolted Mag, but he refused to succumb to the spirit’s taunting.   Réka, Mag’s mother, was no longer among the living but Mag knew that she was certainly not among the demons of Hell either.   He ached to inform the Demonic of that fact but he remined quiet as Vincent continued to pray. 

We drive you from us, whoever you may be, unclean spirits, all satanic powers, all infernal invaders, and wicked legions. In the name and by the power of Our Lord Jesus Christ, I command you to depart. 

              Paul's body, still suspended in air, began to spin in place--slowly at first but gaining speed until all that could be seen was a whirling blur. 

              "STOP IT!" Starr yelled. 

              Don't," Mag cautioned. 

              Most cunning serpent, you shall no more dare to deceive the human race. The Most High God commands you, He with whom, in your great insolence, you still claim to be equal. 

              Vincent continued to pray as he took a rosary from his bag. 

In the Name and by the power of Our Lord Jesus Christ, may you be snatched away and driven from the Church of God and from the souls made to the image and likeness of God. 

              The temperature in the cellar escalated from near freezing to well over one-hundred degrees; the single illuminated light bulb shattered into minute shards of glass; the pulpit settled to the floor; Paul's body stopped twirling. 

Be gone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit, enemy of man's salvation. Stoop beneath the all-powerful Hand of God.

              Without warning, nails began to spew forth from Paul's mouth, several of which imbedded themselves in Vincent's chest before he could react to the onslaught.

              "Vincent!" Mag called out.

              "I'll be okay. Stay put," Vincent instructed as he dodged the nails that continued to shoot from Paul's mouth.

Tremble and flee when we invoke the Holy and terrible Name of Jesus, this Name which causes hell to tremble, this Name to which the Virtues, Powers, and Dominations of heaven are humbly submissive.

              The bombardment of nails ceased and Paul's body settled to the floor. The basement became preternaturally quiet.

              "Mag, I'll need your help now." And Mag rushed to Vincent's side.

              Although the cellar was quiet, such was not the case in the living room. The individuals assembled there were being assaulted by the sounds--sans the presence--of barking dogs, whinnying horses, and screeching crows.

              "What the fuck?" Charlie finally heard the noises he had been anticipating.

              "Look!" Marybeth cried out as she pointed to the fireplace.

              There was Paul Forsythe's face, larger than normal and contorted in pain, but Paul's face nonetheless.

              "We really do need to get Saul down here." Mag said as he pulled the last nail from Vincent's chest. "Pastor Duncan is still unconscious. And I don't even want to think about the damage those nails have done to your tissues."

              "I doubt that the doctor can do much for us right now. Even if we could attract his attention, how would he get down here?"

              "Yes, the stairs are gone but he could enter through one of the windows," Mag offered.

              "That's doubtful. Those windows are pretty narrow. Also, we have no idea what might be going on upstairs. He might be needed there. Let's wait a bit longer."

              While Mag had been tending to Vincent, Starr and Penelope had been watching over Lukas. Starr had heard what Vincent said about Dr. Feener and she didn't agree.

              "The pastor needs medical attention, now! He..." Starr stopped speaking as the glow from her flashlight exposed the hundreds of scorpions that were creeping toward the supine Lukas Duncan.

              "Paul! My God, Paul!" Tamara bellowed as she rushed to the fireplace. "I'm here, I'm here!" As she touched what she thought was her husband's face, Tamara's own face twisted into a mask of agony. Tamara's hand, the one that had made contact with Paul's image, was literally on fire.

              In response to Starr's cry for help, Vincent hurled holy water on the advancing horde of scorpions. The arachnids disappeared as quickly as they had materialized.

              "Bummer."

              "Hold your tongue, vile serpent." Vincent ordered as he returned to Paul's body. "I want to speak to Paul Forsythe. I command you to let go of his voice and let him speak."

              "How can he speak if he
is not here?"

              Starr was tempted to ask Mag what that question meant, but she was afraid to hear the answer.

              "I want to speak to Paul Forsythe. I command you to let go of his voice and let him speak," Vincent repeated.

              "He's our pig now. Pigs don't speak, they snort and oink."

              The squeals of unseen pigs filled the cellar. Penelope dashed madly about trying to locate the source of the noise; Starr and Mag covered their ears; Vincent, despite his need for rest, resumed praying.