The young man spits obscenities at me from the confines of the dining room chair his parents have tied him to. I ask them if they had followed my instructions and called for the local priest to come later in the evening. They assured me the priest would be there.
The legally adult youth (bound but not gagged) laughed and promised he would visit unclean actions upon the priest once he was done rendering me unfit for a proper burial.
“Fucking low level pricks. You’d think after fucking around with humanity for a few hundred years, they would at least learn some proper insults and not something that came off of yesterday’s novella. Besides, you can’t corrupt what is already unclean.”
The chair was in the middle of the cleared living room. I stood in front of it. A ring of [stuff] had been carefully poured on the floor around us, just large enough to contain us and allow me a foot of room to maneuver. A path between the ring and the back door had been cleared of furniture. Instead a layer of [other stuff] had been laid down, just wide enough for a person to carefully walk on, but not so wide that it would be a trouble to sweep up.
“If you are unclean… how can you help my son?” The father’s shaky voice spoke more about his discontent with my presence than his words did. His wife hushed him and told him to have faith.
“No, he asks a good question. To him, my actions are like making a sick man even sicker to get well. Well, Sir, your son has something in him, a spiritual parasite. And me, well… I’m a bit of a predator myself. The difference is I have no interest in harming the host, your son. My prey is the parasite. When I’m done, your son will be free of what ails him, but he will not be sealed against further exposure. That’s what the priest is for, because I have no power there. I can not prevent future infections. I can only deal with what is already here.”
I had my tools in a durable bag hanging over my shoulder. Everything I needed was attached to me in some way. Once I was done, I would have to leave the house immediately, and I could not pause for anything nor could I turn back once I started the movement. I removed [a tool] from my bag with intention of beginning the proceedings at once.
“Then why not let the priest do it all! Why do you have to be here?” I could tell the father was livid, but I could not tell at what. It was either the state of his son, or that an unclean woman was going to put things to right.
I tipped my hat back so he could see my face clearly. “You mean let the priest fuck it up like the last three times he tried? Your guy is good at procedural work but is shaky as hell in his faith. Or do I have to remind you that even the original twelve apostles couldn’t cure everyone that came to them and Jesus had to tell them that some only come out by faith. Hmm? Your priest has the gear and the attunements, but he has no faith to use them. Now, if you do not want me to continue, then tell me now. Because once I get started, I am not going to stop until I drop dead, or I get what I came here for. I am aiming to be done before the priest arrives, not because of any fear of him, but because I don’t want to shake his faith up any further.”
The father started to ask how I had shaken the priest’s faith already, but his wife pulled him a few steps away from the circle and hushed him with an admonition. “Enough! Are you trying to chase away the only good thing left for your son?”
“You told me she was a healer! Now she says she’s a devil! How do I know she won’t make things worse for him!”
“Hey!” I waved to get their attention. “The clock will tick away whether I start or not. So… Am I or am I not?”
“You are!”, quickly replied the wife. The husband furrowed his brow, sighed deeply, and nodded his formal assent. I tilted my head to spur him to speak. “Yes. You are.”, he announced.
I snapped [my tool] into its working configuration and stared down at the bound man. The work went quicker than I thought it would. The beleaguered youth wanted to be free of the spirit oppressing him, and he pushed from within as I pulled from without. Hook by spiritual hook, the squatter was slowly losing its grip on the youth.
The door bell rang. I did not turn away but continued the working. I heard the smoothly gentle voices greet the wife as she answered, then her surprise as she declared the guests had arrived far before their alloted time.
Wait. Guests? There’s only one priest…
Behind me I hear a strong voice expressing disapproval at the sight of one of the Devil’s Women working some demonic rite. It is not the voice of the priest I expected. I don’t turn around, though. I’m very close to pulling the spiritual parasite free from the youth’s body.
“Don’t let your pride blind you, Sir. And don’t let your arrogance lead you into a greater sin. I’m just here to collect the trash. Do be gracious, and abide by the word of he whose house you are in, which I might remind you, is not your god’s.” As I was speaking, I maneuvered the spirit into the lungs of the youth. I was hoping for a more graceful, and less disgusting, extraction, but I know how impatient members of any priesthood can be once they feel their gods’ dominance is being called into question. “¡Madre! Abre la puerta y toma la escoba. ¡Es el momento!” [Mother! Open the door and grab the broom. It is time!]
I did not recognize I spoke Spanish then, only that I had put some kind of emphasis in my command. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the husband go to the back door and open it carefully so not to disrupt the path of [stuff] leading from the circle I inhabited. The wife grabbed a broom and stood ready beside where the path touched the circle.
“Let me speak my farewells now, because once I start moving, I can’t stop. You know what to do?” She nodded. “Good. The priests are here now, so they’ll be able to start sealing him the moment I walk out. I suggest leaving him bound until they’re done. You never know how folk are going to react when they are held accountable for their actions. Very well, then. Let’s go.”
[I did a thing] and took the face of the bound man with both hands. All black eyes stared into scared human eyes. He did precisely what I wanted him to do. He took a breath to scream.
At the pause between inhale and exhale, I pinched his nose and covered his mouth with mine. I sucked the air out of his lungs with vigor, pulling the spirit out of his body and taking it into my own. The bound man kicked and squirmed while the failed possessing spirit attempted to resist the transfer. When I felt the intruder moving free of the bound man, I pushed away and stood up.
The spirit was not completely bound. It manifested a few black slimy tentacles that flailed fiercely out of my clenched mouth. While the gesture failed to prod me into letting go, it convinced the others in the room that I was not a charlatan. I heard the young priest attempt to pray and fail as his chattering and stuttering voice betrayed his fear. I heard the older priest pray in strong tones with a surety that comes from having encountered and survived equal interactions. I heard the mother whimper before she tightened her grip on the broom. And I heard the father whisper apologies that he did not believe his son before.
I bit down on the tentacles, [did another thing], and slurped the manifestation completely into my mouth. Covering my mouth with my hand, just in case, I immediately exited the circle by stepping fully on the thin path of [stuff]. I had to exit the house quickly, but not so quick that the mother could not keep up with me. As I took each step forward, her job was to sweep the [stuff] behind me. Effectively sweeping my steps and what the [stuff] represented, out the back door thereby making her house clean.
She was well-practiced at sweeping, and I was able to move faster than I had planned for. She waited half a second’s pause to make sure I was completely out of the house and away from the physical structure before sweeping the last of the [stuff] out the door behind me with a great commanding shout. The father was going to defy my instructions by waiting to watch me leave the property line before closing the door, but the mother pushed him out the way to close the door and lock it against me with prejudice.
I smiled as I noted my part in the youth’s restoration was complete, then almost gagged as the aggressive spirit started attacking its warm-blooded prison. Not yet, you bastard. I have debts to pay, and you’re my offering. The spirit paused as the meaning of the directed thought soaked in, then redoubled its efforts once it understood. Which is what I wanted. The more vigorous it is when delivered, the greater worth to those I deliver it to.
I stumbled down the street then slipped through a shortcut until I arrived at the Crossroads. Thick woods surrounded the lit torch mounted on the signpost. The arrows pointed north and south, east and west, as expected. But there was also another pair of shadowy arrows that moved as I approached them. One arrow always pointed at my chest, the other arrow slowly spun in random directions.
I was having difficulty holding the captive spirit. I wanted to eat it, and absorb its power into myself. I wanted to spit it out, and run away from the putrescence. I wanted to listen to more of what it had to say, even though I knew it was lying to me. And a part of me wanted to yield to it completely, and let it devour me instead.
I grabbed the signpost and fell to my knees. It took all of my concentration to keep the spirit captive. I do not know when the shadows came from the woods to surround me, or when they blotted out the night sky. I only know a hand colder than the grave lifted my head. I opened my eyes and the shadows poured into them, devouring my sight.
«Do you have something for [us]?»
I nodded.
«Give it.»
I leaned forward and opened my mouth. Half retching, half screaming, I pushed the spirit out of my body. It slopped against the ground in a very physical and very wet manifestation. As I started to sit upright, it must have realized where it was or at least what was surrounding it. Several tentacles attempted to attach to my face and try to pry open my mouth. It wanted back in.
The shadows crept over me, tasting every inch of my skin but saving the face for last. When the shadows came over my face, the spirit that was struggling to reinvade my body now sought to distance itself.
I did not see what the shadows did to the spirit, I only heard the sounds of their actions. It was not pleasant.
I had forgotten the shadows had also invaded my body until they started to leave it. They flowed out of my eyes leaving me shuddering on the ground as their spiritual touch left me feeling molested.
«Your debt to [us] is paid in full.»
Sudden exhaustion settled in where the shadows had probed. But I knew the Crossroads is not a place for rest. I forced my eyes open to find the area had returned to how I saw when I approached it. The signpost pointed to the four compass points. One shadow arrow pointed to my chest, the other moved in seemingly random turns.
“Where ever I am, I am always here with me. Okay.” I forced myself to stand. “Hey, Signpost. Which way to where I can rest safely?”
The randomly moving arrow stopped then moved with deliberation to point in [a certain direction]. I thanked the mute signpost and immediately set out in the direction indicated. As I left the reach of the torch’s light, the dream silenced, darkened, and ceased.