Demonologist (27 page)

Danto leaned forward. “Does the word Legion mean anything to you?”

Bev and Rebecca shook their heads in unison.

Danto blew out, looking white and nervous, as though he’d raised a subject that would bring about great pains. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, again glancing at his watch. “There’s a story in the Bible, one that tells of
Jesus’s
miraculous calming of a great storm that had filled Jerusalem’s homes with sand, subsequently absorbing all the city’s holy waters. After performing his miracle, Jesus traveled into deserts of
Gerasenes
in Israel and met a man there claiming to be possessed by thirteen demons. This man was unsettled, naked, and had been living in a tomb, under guard by many men. He claimed to have broken the chains that had bonded him and had escaped by frightening away those who were watching him. When Jesus asked the man his name, he replied, ‘I am Legion, for we are many’. Jesus then commanded the demons out of the man into a herd of thirteen swine feeding on the hillside. The possessed herd ran down the hillside into the desert, where they buried themselves in the sand and remained out of contact for years. Soon, the holy waters returned, and the pigs drowned, so it is said. This, as the Bible relates, is the first story of God’s conflict with evil. And it is a powerful one too—the demons had realized that they could not defeat the son of God, having elected to be placed into swine instead of the abyss where they would remain for eternity.
This
was one of God’s first mistakes, sparing the demons—it is assumed that there would not have been a temptation of evil today if the demons had been sent into the infernal abyss.

“It is known in the Church that regardless of the passage of time, demonic forces will
always
oppose that which is good. These thirteen demons
knew
that Jesus’ coming would hinder them from performing their evil wills. So, to avoid permanent exile, they chose to sleep within the pigs, knowing that eventually, they would be released.

“The demon-swine remained sequestered until, years later, one man, Allieb, sought to release them unto the world, offering them the bodies of thirteen children into which they could escape the drowned swine. But Allieb had ulterior motives. As a master demonologist, he raised the soul of his father, the demon Belial, then made attempts to subsequently draw the remaining demons from the children’s bodies into his own body. By doing this, he aimed to gain immense power over the world by sharing his own soul with the thirteen demons once released by Jesus Christ. Allieb had been successful to a certain degree, but was ultimately murdered for his crimes before the entire transition could take place. He was buried in a tomb in the Negev Desert, where his body remained for over two thousand years.”

“You mentioned this at the party last night.”

Danto nodded. “But there are additional details you must know.”

Bev nodded.

The priest continued. “By chance, in ‘67, during the Six-Day War, while I was studying at the University of Archaeology in Jerusalem,
Allieb’s
tomb was uncovered. As I’d mentioned, a young boy had been found hiding inside. I didn’t realize it at first, but it became apparent to me after my six months of study of the tomb and its history, that
Allieb’s
soul might’ve been released into the six-year-old. Once I discovered the exact nature of
Allieb’s
history, I felt no choice but to follow the boy (who’d uttered very few words upon his rescue, his professed name being one of them: Allieb) to America, where he’d been adopted by an American minister and his wife. I eventually located the family and kept close tabs on the boy until...” Danto paused, sipped some water, then said, “Well…let’s just say I’d been correct in my deduction. Within a few months of my arrival, the soul of Allieb had completely taken over the boy’s body, and had immediately begun summoning the thirteen demons. This poor boy, whose true identity had never been discovered, had
become
the two-thousand-year-old Allieb. But...the boy’s body had not been strong enough to absorb the soul of the ancient demonologist,
and
the demonic souls—he was to have brought the demons into individual human vehicles first, which he failed to do. This would have weakened the souls, allowing Allieb to more easily absorb them with his own soul. It can only be assumed that the soul of Allieb, two thousand years in waiting, had ignored his father’s counsel, and had impetuously commenced with the drawing.”

Danto took another sip of water, allowing Bev a moment to ask, “How do you know all of this, that the boy had become possessed by the soul of Allieb, and Belial?”

“And a number of other demon spirits as well,” Danto added.

“Right.”

He stared at Bev. “Because I exorcised the souls from his body.”

~ * ~

The two men, priest and reverend, moved to opposing sides of the boy, out of his grasping reach. Eyes filled with hostility peered up at them. A dense lull suffocated the basement. Then the boy stroked his erect penis, chains dangling from his jerking wrist. Thick yellow ooze seeped from his urethra. “Suck me, father,” he cooed playfully. Then barked, “Choke on my
jism
!”

“Who are you?” Danto asked, making the sign of the cross on himself.

“You know, proud papa.”

“Allieb. The demonologist?”

“Maybe,” the boy growled.

“Or, are you one of the thirteen demons?”

Allieb seethed. “I am in full control of the dark souls...all thirteen!”

Danto thought,
He’s lying
. “Show one to me,” he asked.

The boy yanked on the chains and barked like a dog. White foam appeared on his mouth.

“Was that one of the demons?”

The boy cowered, sniggering, eyes yellow and peering up through crust-laden lashes.

The priest and the minister kneeled down and prayed aloud, exchanging verses from the Bible over the boy’s depraved laughter. “
Deliver us from the evil!
” The boy howled with specious merriment, louder, louder, drowning out their forceful supplications. Upon completion of the first set of prayers, Danto removed a vial of holy water from his pocket. He removed the cap, and showered the boy. Wails of pain filled the room, the boy, writhing on the cement floor like an injured insect, the veins in his arms and legs swelling like balloons; his tongue, dangling from his mouth, dripping thick white fluid. An eerie chorus of anguished voices sprouted from his widening mouth.

And they prayed and showered the blessed water: “
Take thy unclean spirit and condemn it into the abyss for eternity!
” The boy hissed like a reptile,
oinked
like a pig, honked like a steer, arching his back into a U-shape so that the rear of his skull nearly touched his reaching heels. Items flew across the room and collided against the ceiling and walls: a paintbrush, a plastic bucket, tattered rags.

“
No power to the enemy! Lord, hear our prayers!
” The boy’s body snapped back into shape, his head, making hard contact with the cement floor. Blood gushed out in a shocking spray. “Jesus!” Thornton yelled, the boy, rising suddenly off the ground, the manacles clanging harshly in the curdling silence. He levitated for an indeterminable amount of time, canine eyes doused in blood, staring through the two men as they continued praying aloud, showering the boy with holy water. His limbs strained, continued to fight their steel bonds, his mouth open, brown saliva pouring out,
splatting
the floor.

They continued their prayers: “
Lord, Jesus Christ, take back this beast planting Satan’s debris, and drive it into the abyss to rot for eternity!
”

The boy fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. He twisted his neck around and peered up at the men with dark, baleful eyes. The voice of a grown man emerged from his lips. “The demons are leaving,” said the voice. “But I still remain.”

There was a sudden, horrid stench, as liquid feces exploded from the boy’s rectum. “Danto screamed, “
Be gone, befouled spirit, and take thy demons with you!
”

The boy tilted his head down, quiet and unmoving. His eyes rolled maniacally in their sockets, like eggs in boiling water. Thornton watched intensely as his adopted son choked and coughed,
spasmed
uncontrollably. His limbs twisted into impossible angles, the bones popping and snapping, the skin stretching
redly
. The room grew icy cold, the feces on the floor vaporizing, filling the room with putrid steam. The lone light bulb flickered, brightened, dulled.

“
Return to the depths of hell and wallow in Satan’s wasteland!
”

In the grown man’s voice, the boy uttered brokenly, “Satan refuses to join...he disputes the Legion...” Tears sprouted from his eyes. “Beelzebub is gone...
Baphomet
...gone...Rex Mundi...gone…Satan has retrieved his brethren. Damn him...”

A grinding noise filled the room. Deep laughter emerging from the sudden wind whipping about. Cracks ran along the cinder walls, white light seeping from within the running crevices. The wood beams in the ceiling splintered. The boy reached for the heavens, arms raised high, grasping the air. The white light seeping from the cracks in the walls doused the room, taking with it the warring souls escaping Allieb. Harsh, tortured screams deafened the two men as they fell back from a sudden, unseen blow, attempting prayers amidst the encompassing din of escaping evil.

“
God of heaven, God of earth, God of all creation, we implore you
...” Danto commenced his prayers, watching in near blindness the blackened shadows of the demons spilling from the boy’s mouth and ears and eyes and rectum, nearly tangible forms winging across the room, caught by the white light, and wholly absorbed. Seven entities in all, fighting their way out over a span of nearly two hours, combating the light that seized them, screeching in agony: a shocking stratum of inhuman voices. Every second was fought with prayers and showers of holy water, while
Allieb’s
frail naked form jerked and jolted and
spasmed
as the demons vacated.

And when the shadows ceased and the white light faded back into the cinder cracks, Allieb the demonologist remained frightened and alone, possessing a young boy’s body too weak for achieving his purpose.

“
The power of the Lord Jesus Christ commands you
.” The two holy men stood, Bibles in hand, spurting supplications. There was a sudden howl from the boy. Deep. Pained. Then he curled up on the ground and began sobbing in the feeble tone of an injured ten year-old. He twisted his neck, gazed up at them, eyes human, appealing, doused with tears.

“Where am I?” he asked, looking down at his fouled naked self.

Thorton
kneeled down, facing his son for the very first time. “You are home, my son. You are home.”

~ * ~

“It’d appeared he was back, the boy Thornton was meant to adopt—the boy that had lost his parents in the war and hid in the tomb.”

Rebecca, slack-jawed, asked, “Did he remember anything?”

Danto shook his head. “He’d told us that the last thing he remembered was seeing his parents being killed and thrown onto a heap of bodies—it was as if he’d been in a coma, and had woken up a year and a half later. Of course, we discovered later that he was lying…”

“Okay...” Bev said, frowning, holding the priest’s gaze. “What does all this have to do with me?” Bev, riddled with gooseflesh, feared that Danto might reveal that he was now possessed with the spirit of Allieb. He tossed the thought from his mind, shuddering at the possibility.
  

Can’t be...could it?

Then thoughts of Julianne’s Diary filtered back to him:
Allieb was next to me. He whispered, ”You will earn success and riches beyond your wildest imagination. Is this what you desire?” I told him, “Yes, for Bev, and for Kristin. I want it for them.”

Jesus
…

“This all has to do with my wife. Julianne. What she did years ago. Doesn’t it?”

Danto nodded sorrowfully, then held a gentle index finger up. “Soon after
Allieb’s
exorcism, I realized that the soul within the boy’s body was still that of the demonologist’s.” The priest’s eyes turned toward the rain-spotted window. “You wouldn’t have thought it at first. He sounded just like a ten-year-old boy. Acted like one. But, there were signs. First, he refused to change his name, leading me to believe that the exorcism had been only partially successful. Yes, the demons had been driven out, but the soul of the demonologist still remained in full control of the boy’s body, influencing his thoughts. I could see it in his eyes. I could
feel
it. Eventually, as he aged, it showed in his appearance. His eyes were jet black in hue, possessing this internal radiance that was difficult to pull away from. His skin…it stayed as white as bone—he never strayed under sunlight. His face had grown oddly angular, the chin pointed, the nose sharp, his brow ridging out over his eyes. He’d shaved his head and grown a jet-black goatee, keeping it neatly trimmed. He looked like a demon, one that had somehow taken on a human perspective—much like the ancient demonologist himself as artistically rendered in the texts discussing his history. The resemblance...it was remarkable.