Evil in Me, page 17
Several of the souls nodded along.
“Alright,” Scott said, sounding impressed. “I can dig that. Go on, Ruby. Give that a shot.”
Ruby cleared her throat and gave it another try.
“Not bad, man,” Scott said. “I think we’re getting somewhere.”
This time almost all the souls nodded and Ruby felt a strange warmth flowing around her, through her, wondered if the song, or maybe the making of the song, was pulling them together, was somehow part of the magic. Because it was like they were on her side now.
“One more time, Miss Ruby,” Clifford said. “You’ll get it right this time.”
Ruby cleared her throat and began to sing, the good feelings swimming into her, lifting her voice. Her heart and emotions, her desire to be free, all flowed into the words. She found the tune, or more like it found her, something like an old-time spiritual, but all her own. “‘Gotta gimmie all your heart and soul, gimmie all your heart and soul, Devil’s never gonna let me go, unless you give me all your heart and soul.’” She sang it again, then again.
Clifford began to hum along, Scott joining him, the one-eyed man and the bitter-faced lady too. Then they began to sing their part, and when they did several others joined them. “‘Gonna give you all my heart and soul, give you all my heart and soul, Devil’s gonna let you go, I give you all my heart and soul.’”
It came back round to Ruby and this time Beel lent his voice, giving the song a soft echo that was at once beautiful and eerie. The warmth, that sense of good will grew, filling Ruby up. Tears welled in her eyes.
Round they went and this time when the spirits sang, they all sang, every soul, clapping and stomping, like they were in a revival house. Round and round the little song went, David and Mr. Rosenfeld joining right in, tears on their cheeks.
This is magic, Ruby thought, and that’s when she felt it, the tingling, it was in the air, almost a thing she could see.
You did it, Beel said. The song, the spell, is yours. Do you feel it?
Oh, yes! I do, I sure do!
Seize it! Seize the magic and free us from this ring. Do it Ruby!
But I don’t know how, she thought, then realized it didn’t matter, the magic, it was seeking her. She opened herself to it and it swirled around her, closer and closer. The symbol she’d cut into her forearm grew hot, actually began to glow, the amber light drawing the magic to it. The magic flowed into the mark, flowed into Ruby like a deep breath. And, oh Lord, such a joyous feeling blossomed within her. Had she ever felt this alive before?
The spirits continued their chorus, the melody feeding the magic.
The ring, Beel said, but he seemed far away, everything seemed far away, it was just her and the song and the magic.
The ring, he called.
Yes, the ring, Ruby thought, forcing herself to focus. She pushed the magic toward the ring. Set me free, set me free, she thought, willing it to free her from the ring. Set me free! The magic responded as though they were one. She could sense that it knew its purpose. She felt it flowing down her arm, into her hand, her finger, then it seized the ring—attacked it.
The ring convulsed, tightened. Burning pain shot up Ruby’s arm, and for a horrible moment she thought it would sever her finger. Then it lessened, the heat faded. Ruby grabbed the ring, gave it a tug. It moved, just a stitch, but it moved!
It is working! Beel cried.
The ghosts sang as though lost in the song, while Ruby willed the magic and tugged at the ring.
The ring slid down to her knuckle.
Yes, Beel cried. Almost free, Ruby! Almost free!
* * *
It’s me, Richard.
“Where are they?” I asked myself as I drove down a wide road lined with older homes, surprised at the anxiety in my voice. “It’s okay, it’s fine,” I said. “So long as I can hear Ruby’s song it’s fine.”
I’d last seen the black Cadillac about a mile back, when I got stuck in traffic and lost them. It was almost dark now; needed to find them again soon, while I could still see.
Why was I so obsessed? I’d never been like that. Never. In the past, if things weren’t right, weren’t easy, I moved on. There was always another pretty young gal down the way. It was witchcraft, right? Something supernatural? Someone, something put a spell on me? I didn’t believe in such nonsense, but what in the heck else could’ve been going on? I didn’t know. All I knew was, every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face. And it wasn’t like she was some looker either—no, too intense, especially in the eyes. I liked them cute and sweet. But goddang, if I didn’t want her more than anyone, or anything, ever.
The song, it was getting weaker.
“No!”
I pulled a U-turn, started back, and the song became a little stronger. I turned left after about a block and the song grew weaker. Another U-turn, then across the main road into another neighborhood, and this time, yes, the song, louder now—louder, louder, louder. I realized it was like a game of hotter-colder. I slowed down to a crawl, searching the driveways as I went. It was dark now, hard to see. Then, colder, colder, colder. I stopped, put it in reverse and winner, winner, turkey dinner! There it was! The Cadillac, sitting far up a long driveway, parked in front of an older Victorian home.
I parked on the street, just down from the drive, grabbed my backpack and checked the contents: a can of pepper spray, a hammer, handcuffs, and my revolver.
I got out, glad now for the cover of darkness, strolled up the drive. The house and the grounds were surrounded by overgrown shrubbery, plenty of places to hide. I walked up to the Cadillac, checked that no one was in it. Then worked my way around the house, looking for Ruby.
The house was dark and most of the windows too high off the ground to see into, the rest had the drapes shut tight. A dim glow lit up one of the windows in the back. I tried to peer in, but all was gloomy. A few shapes moved around and I heard what sounded like singing.
She was in there, I felt her. I tried the window and the back door, but they were both locked. I considered breaking in, then had a better plan. Simply wait for her by the car.
I returned to the Cadillac, found a spot between two large hedges, and made myself comfortable.
As I sat there listening to that terrible, beautiful song, feeling it vibrate through me, almost pulsing, I realized I had no idea when they’d be leaving, that they might even be staying the night. I tugged out my pistol, finding the weight of it comforting as my mind drifted to all the fun Ruby and I were going to share.
Good things come to those who wait, so they say, and I’d wait until the end of time, if need be.
* * *
The ring slid another notch down Ruby’s finger, hanging on by her last knuckle.
She’s done it! Beel thought. This nothing of a woman has bonded with the magic, has made it her own. He glanced around at the spirits, all putting their hearts, their very souls, into this ridiculous song. Who would have ever thought it possible … that such a ragtag group as this would be able to overcome Lord Sheelbeth? Beel knew it was mostly the spell, that Baalei Shem magic was strong, was created to combat just this kind of evil. Yet, he couldn’t help but be astonished, longed to see the utter outrage that must be all over Lord Sheelbeth’s face at this very moment.
There came a sudden bite from the ring; Beel, Ruby, stared at it.
Something’s wrong, Beel thought.
It was then he spied a needle-thin trickle of black smoke weaving its way from the bowl to the ring—into the ring! Connecting the two. He heard them then, the worms, felt a chill roll through Ruby.
Another spindle of black smoke spun out of the bowl, another, then another, squirming about like octopus legs.
The song faltered, the ghosts staring wide-eyed. This wasn’t part of the spell; they all knew it, felt it.
The ends of the smoky tendrils sprouted pods. The pods swelled, then burst open, releasing a hot gush of ruddy gas, filling the room with the smell of rot and sulfur. Beel recognized that smell, could never forget it.
No! No! he cried, pushing forward, intent on smashing the spirit bowl, on closing the door, now, before it was too late. But Ruby pulled back, terrified, causing them to fall to her knees.
A horrendous wail came from the pods as they vomited up swirling masses of smoky flesh. The flesh hit the floor in steaming clumps, looking like balls of rotting rope. They began to pulse and uncoil—snake beasts, with leathery, rotten flesh, segmented bodies long as a man’s leg, topped with the cadaverous heads of monkeys and jackals, each head spiked with horns and barbs.
“Demons!” Beel shouted, as he recognized them from Lord Sheelbeth’s chamber. Beel couldn’t fathom what powerful magic Sheelbeth had conjured to unleash these beasts into the human plane. He looked again at the bowl and the realization, the horrible understanding of their mistake, struck him. That is a demon bowl! They opened a door for Lord Sheelbeth, and Lord Sheelbeth had been ready, probably waiting. And in that moment, Beel had to wonder if it had all been part of Sheelbeth’s design, wondered whatever made them think they could outplay the wicked lord?
The snake demons, all six of them, unfurled and slid toward the ghosts, swimming through the air, heading toward the two children. Clifford leapt into their path. “In the name of God, the Lord Jesus! Begone devils! Begone!”
The demons stopped, exchanged bemused looks, began to cackle and bray, revealing mouths full of jagged teeth. They let loose a howl and attacked.
Clifford managed to grab one, to clasp its neck in his huge hands, but as he wrestled it to the ground, the others blew past. They caught one of the children, the boy, sinking their maws into his smoky flesh. The boy’s face turned from fear to agony as they chewed into him, tearing out and swallowing chunks of him with every bite. To everyone’s horror, the demons devoured him, just gobbled him up. There came one last pitiful wail, then the child was gone.
For one long second, everyone and everything in the room seemed frozen. Then the demons let out a prolonged howl and launched themselves into the remaining ghosts.
The room broke into bedlam as ghosts and demons tangled together, their horrible shrieks and wails echoed through the house as the demons began ripping them apart and devouring them. They piled on Clifford, quickly overwhelming the large man, tearing him to pieces. The remaining ghosts tried to flee, but were trapped in the room by the demon bowl. Three of the serpents caught the young man, Scott, chewing him up as he screamed, then the bitter-faced lady and the one-eyed man. The spirits were completely defenseless against these monsters.
“The bowl,” Beel cried. “Smash the bowl!” He pushed Ruby forward, this time she complied.
Two of the snakes flew toward Ruby, striking her, knocking her to the ground. Beel realized with great horror that these were not just spiritual projections, but flesh and meat, that they could kill Ruby, would kill her, given the chance.
Another tendril of black smoke spiraled out of the bowl, this one much thicker than the others. A large pod began to form. Beel didn’t want to guess what might be coming next.
“Smash the bowl!” he cried again, kicking and swatting at the snakes, trying to regain Ruby’s feet.
Mr. Rosenfeld started forward, only to be knocked down by one of the snakes.
David grabbed for the bowl, but the moment his hand touched it, a green blast of flame shot upward, searing his hands and face, forcing him back against the far wall.
The snakes, all of them, flew to the bowl, began circling it, guarding it, snapping and snarling, filling the air with their hideous laughter. Something was sliding up the large funnel of smoke, something human in shape, and the snakes meant to see that it arrived unmolested.
“Lord Sheelbeth,” Beel cried, choking on the name. “No. No! We are done!” He climbed back to Ruby’s feet, glancing about, desperately seeking something, anything to smash the bowl with. Suddenly, David came running out of the gloom, clutching one of his ancient war axes. The snakes screeched and attacked, but he came on at full speed, crashing through them, bringing the ax up high and down with all his force, directly onto the bowl.
The bowl exploded with a concussive boom, shooting fiery embers in all directions.
For a moment all was smoke and confusion, leaving Ruby’s head ringing, spinning. The smoke rolled away and Beel saw that the remaining ghosts were gone, realized they were free, the spell broken. And for one hopeful moment, he thought the demons were gone as well. But no, the snakes were there, writhing on the floor, and something else was on the floor—a dark figure.
The figure unfurled, slowly stood up.
The curtains, parts of the rug, some of the books, were burning now, and Beel could clearly see the figure in the growing glow of the flames. There came a moment’s relief when he saw that it wasn’t Lord Sheelbeth after all, but one of her demon slaves, one of the drummers, Vutto. Then the beast—a hunched, lanky, ape-like creature—set its cruel, hungry eyes on Ruby, began to drool.
We have to run! Beel said, then there came a crazy yell. It was David, his face wild with fear, rushing the demon, swinging the ax for all he was worth.
The demon managed to duck and the big blade skimmed off its hide. It howled, grabbed David by the neck, sinking it’s claws into David’s flesh, then slamming the man’s head into the table, busting open his skull.
Ruby screamed and again it set its furious red eyes on her. It knelt and pulled the battle ax from David’s dead hand.
Run! Beel cried.
Ruby made it two steps before the beast hit her from behind, knocking her to the floor. It planted its foot on her back and stood over her, grinning, the battle ax in its grip.
Mr. Rosenfeld got to his feet, snatched up the chalice of angel blood, and unscrewed the lid. The demon hefted the ax and Mr. Rosenfeld jumped over, throwing a handful of the red powder into the beast’s face.
The creature dropped the weapon and clutched its eyes, squalling as it staggered away.
There was a moment when Mr. Rosenfeld looked hopeful, like they might actually get out of this room alive. Then the snakes flew at him, all six of them plowing into him, knocking the chalice from his grip.
The chalice bounced off the table, spilling the precious powder all over the burning rug. Mr. Rosenfeld seemed unable to do anything but stare as the substance went up in flames, a look of utter defeat upon his face.
“Watch out!” Ruby screamed as the snakes set to him, biting into his stomach, his neck, tearing out chunks of his flesh, ripping his throat wide open.
“NO! NO! NO!” Ruby cried, and this time Beel took control, forced her to her feet. The entire room was aflame now, filling the place with dense black smoke. Tears streamed down Ruby’s face as she coughed, choked, and stumbled blindly away from the demons. She ran into a wall, found what she thought was the hallway, made it only a few steps when something snagged her arm, then bit her. She screamed and struck out, knocking one of the snakes away. Another bit at her leg and she kicked wildly, tumbling backward through a doorway.
Beel grabbed the door, slammed it shut, and the snakes began banging against the other side. They were in a bathroom, no window, no other way out. Again and again, the snakes struck the door. There came crunching and splintering along the top of the door, as the snakes began to gnaw their way through.
Beel could feel the rising heat, hear the crackling and popping of burning wood as the flames continued to consume the house. There is no escaping the flames, he thought. Not for me. The flames will take Ruby, then the ring will take me. He could almost hear Lord Sheelbeth laughing at him.
A chunk splintered inward at the top of the door and the snakes drove through. Ruby snatched up a plunger and swung it wildly, but the snakes darted past, snapping and biting. One got a hold of her ankle, another her wrist, another her arm, their bites burning like fire.
There came a tremendous crash and Beel saw the demon, Vutto, standing in the broken doorway, knew it was over, all over.
Vutto snarled and rushed Ruby, but instead of grabbing her, it grabbed two of the snakes, yanking them from Ruby. Before the snakes could react, another mouth, one set in the creature’s belly, opened wide and it shoved the snakes into the toothy maw, swallowing both whole.
The remaining snakes screeched and attacked the beast. But they were no match, Vutto snatched them out of the air—chomping, biting, and finally devouring every one of them.
Beel tried to force Ruby to her feet, but before he could, Vutto lifted her, and to Beel’s dismay, didn’t tear her throat open; instead he carried her from the burning bathroom. The demon navigated effortlessly through the dense smoke, found a door, and suddenly there was air, sweet, fresh air.
Vutto sat Ruby gently on the grass in the backyard and only then did Beel notice how the rage was gone from his eyes, that they no longer glowed red. He saw … what? Empathy? Concern? From a demon? Then he noticed something else, the spot on his forehead where the angel blood had hit, had formed into a large scar in the shape of a star. It glowed dimly.
Ruby coughed and retched, spitting out a wad of black snot and saliva as she sucked clean air into her lungs.
The demon patted her on the back. “You be okay. You be okay.”
Ruby flinched away.
“No, no worry. I not gonna hurt you. I am your friend.” His speech was broken, guttural, the words not coming easy off his forked tongue. He also spoke with an accent, but Beel couldn’t place it, German maybe.
“They’re dead,” Ruby sobbed. “Both of them. And you killed them!”
Vutto shook his head. “No!”
“Demon! Fucking monster! Get away from me!”
“I am not monster. I am…” It seemed to be searching. “I am Vutto. Vutto!”
The flames were now spreading throughout the house.
“We need to go,” Beel said, pushing Ruby to her feet. Ruby stumbled toward the front yard. She was almost to the driveway when she and Beel both noticed the demon following them.
