The Repentant Demon Trilogy Book 1: The Demon Calumnius (2 page)

Alessandro saw her and coveted her every day.  When she smiled at him in innocence, it roused him to uncontrollable passion.  He exposed this to her on more than one occasion, and although she scolded him and averted her eyes, she did not tell anyone.  Alessandro interpreted that as a sign of her secret desire for him.  A thing not unnoticed by Calumnius.

Every night, the demon Calumnius would taunt the boy until his desires drove him mad.  The boy would have her no matter what he risked in the way of reputation or punishment.  Calumnius told him the pleasures would be worth it all. 

He began to groom himself meticulously, and it seemed to him as if she smiled at him more sweetly.  As she studied, he pretended to be interested in her book on Catholic saints.  Then she was willing to talk with him at length, and he could hear her melodious voice, which sparked a burning in his loins, causing him to touch himself as she looked away to read passages for him.

Maria had sincere concern for his soul and was happy to do her part to lead him back to Godly pursuits.  His urges so fervently aroused, Alessandro could wait no longer to persuade her with looks, gestures, and words.  He needed to touch her body, both for the pleasures it would give him and to stir those feelings within her anatomy that hadn't as yet been awakened.  He would show her things she had never known, be her guide to the universe that was her body with all its hidden secrets. 

All of those things he knew about from reading materials he had gotten from other boys, things he paid dearly for with money stolen from his father's coffers.  He read how to stimulate a girl to ecstasy by touching her in places of which she herself was not even aware.  It did not matter that she protested continuously to all his efforts, to his pleadings, to his sensuous charms.  She could not refuse the pleasures he would give her, once she knew of them.  Maria would be grateful that he had awakened her sensitivities.  She had a girl's body, and he had learned about girls' bodies from his books, some of which had explicit pictures.  He knew just what to do to her, and she would want him to do these things once she felt how good it was.  They could sneak off to his room or to quiet places on the farm where they would be undisturbed and enjoy each other’s bodies for hours on end.  She would become his, perhaps even desire him the way he felt about her.

That is what Alessandro was thinking when he suddenly threw her down and reached under her skirt.  She tried to push him away, of course, but she could not with his greater weight upon her.  He tickled her against the surface of her underpants, which should have created feelings of pleasure.  It should have warmed her, but she stubbornly denied herself that gift he offered.  So he grabbed the crotch of the cotton undergarment and pulled ferociously, ripping it away and gaining entry to the soft, moist prize beneath.  He fingered her gently, touching her exactly in the correct locations and in the way he had read about.  She cried out in terror, demanding he stop, telling him this was sinful and displeasing to God.  That made him very angry.

Maria was so small he knew he could overpower her if she did not eventually comply with his wishes.  He himself was not as large as other boys his age.  He could not hope to get any of his female schoolmates interested in him; they called him pipsqueak and laughed.  As he remembered this, it made him even angrier at Maria—his only hope for a sexual partner that he could see.  He was tired of masturbating to pictures, covering his organ with a sock to hide his emission from his mother, who always checked the sheets and scolded him when she found them soiled.  He was desperate to know what it was like to feel himself inside a real girl. 

He gave up on trying to evoke desire in this inexperienced girl, so he forced his way inside her.  But she fought harder, kicking and screaming—even calling to the Virgin Mary to save her from this act of impurity.  Alessandro grabbed her by the throat to stop her from crying out so loudly, and it worked.  She seemed to lose consciousness as he finally was able to have his way with her without the distraction of waving arms and flailing feet.  The thrill he felt was so enormous he no longer cared about eliciting pleasure for her.  As she coughed and regained the ability to breathe, he urged himself to regain an erection with one hand while securing her weakened body with the other.  It was his one chance, since she wasn't likely to allow herself to be in his company alone ever again.  He planned to ravage her repeatedly, knowing he would never have the opportunity again.

Confident that she would not tell, as she hadn't mentioned to anyone the things he tried before, Alessandro wanted to have a longer time with her.  He felt confident that she would cooperate now that her initial fears could be cast aside—her loss of virginity, the pain of the first entry past the tissue that had been torn, the avoidance of knowing what it was really like to experience such passion.  He pushed into her again, but she kicked and struggled with every bit of strength left in her.  In her exhaustion, she prayed again and pleaded with Alessandro to stop and beg forgiveness from God for what he had done.  He could not enjoy himself with her constant struggling, so with his left hand he pulled his pocketknife from his jacket and flicked it open quickly, and then he stabbed her in the chest.  For some reason her stillness inflamed his desire to greater heights, and he continued pumping himself into her body.  When she moved, he struck her again and again—fourteen times in all—and young Maria Goretti moved no more.

All of this, Calumnius watched with pride. 
It was I who have brought about all of this evil.  The boy had become so much more than I could ever have dreamed—a rapist and a murderer.
As Alessandro pleasured himself with those final strokes inside a half-dead girl, Calumnius entered the boy's body, feeling with him his powerful ejaculation, a practice often employed by many demons—giving them almost the sensation of flesh and blood—also giving them all the more reason to envy humans.  As the boy finished, finally, Calumnius lingered within his body astride the girl, also gazing into her still barely living face.  This was the event that changed him.

The sorrow in her eyes was of a depth he had seldom seen.  It was so much more than suffering endured by bodily pain—that vision of soulful expression.  She reminded him of the Virgin Mother herself at the foot of the cross, weeping for her Son while praying for the forgiveness of humanity.  He had been there; he remembered it well.

Calumnius had been there at Calvary, as had all the demons, to watch the spectacle God had created there.  He attempted to offer salvation to creatures who were too stupid and absolutely incapable of appreciating the gesture.  The vast dominion of hell clamored to Calvary on that day that Jesus of Nazareth died, but only a few demons were able to view the proceedings from nearby because hordes of angels guarded the perimeters. The evil ones strained to watch the humiliating lengths to which the Supreme Being had lowered himself.

From all outward appearances, this Son of Man, who hung on a cross with bleeding head and broken wounds, was merely human.  But the demons knew who He was, even if most of the people there did not.  Only a few of the demons were able to break the barriers and venture close enough to see His face, but Calumnius had been one of those.

Angels watched in agony while no one saw them, except for perhaps John, the Beloved Apostle, who often had visions and seemed to be looking right at them, as Seraphim swarmed with fiery light and the ones known as Virtues sparkled through the air, trying to heal the wounds of their God, who was dying before them.  The Powers, the Order of angels who guarded over life and death, appeared as hazy forms waiting for the end to come as they would stay with Him throughout His entire time in the tomb.  Archangels stood watch, as they do for every major event involving the matters of humankind.

The sin of Adam and Eve, the original sin, was being forgiven at this moment.  Amends were being made.  At His death, it would become possible for the first time since the eviction from Eden for humans to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.  Hoards of righteous souls gathered at the gates for their long-awaited reward.

Calumnius watched all of this with eyes of anger and hate. 
How could the Son of God be so foolish as to die for these worthless creatures?
  Hence, his job became all the more clear; his dedication, at that time, profound.  He hated all humanity because they had been given the chance at heaven not afforded him, a glorious being once beautiful beyond imagination and now horrid before God and man.  He could never be with his Creator, yet these loathsome vermin would be welcomed with loving arms.  And through their stupidity they disregarded this gift, too moronic to even realize what it was they failed to regard with gratitude.

Calumnius heard the words of Christ as He hung dying on His cross, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” It confounded him why God cared at all about these lower life-forms.

It was in those eyes of the one they called Jesus that Calumnius witnessed unfathomable sorrow combined with utter and complete forgiveness.  Christ's pain appeared to come not so much from his physical condition, which was great, but from the hurt caused by the failings of humanity to love according to his command.  His sorrow was that even after all of this—his passionate suffering and death—human beings would continue to sin, and sin horrendously.  He loved them this much, yet they seemed not to love Him in return at all.  Jesus knew all of this and forgave them in spite of themselves.  In those eyes Calumnius beheld the same look of compassion he later witnessed in Maria Goretti as she forgave the boy who took her virginity and her life.

C
alumnius stalked and coveted Abigail Rayetta Fitzgerald for her humanity, which he hated, and for her goodness, which he hated even more.  He sought to destroy her soul because of the nature of what she was—a creature that God loved more than the angels.  It would be a glorious trophy for him to bring down one such as her, when there were so few good ones left in the world.

Twice in the duration of his existence, Calumnius had witnessed this remarkable quality called
forgiveness
.  God, he had always known to have possessed this ability to forgive, and to withhold it as well.  And yet this extraordinary thing—a mere human was able to experience it as well, as did the Almighty.  This sharing of such a powerful attribute of God defined humans as more than just intelligent animals—not merely pets to God, but His very children.  This realization confounded Calumnius more than it enlightened him, and it changed him.  But it did not alter his situation.  He was what he was, and would continue to be a demon forever.  No other choice was afforded him but to continue to do what demons do—for all eternity.  So he lingered on earth for long periods, trying to resolve these mysteries in his soul—a thing which he actually wasn't sure he even possessed.

He had specifically targeted Abigail Rayetta Fitzgerald as his victim for the very reason of her goodness—goodness he wanted to destroy.  Yet he also was intrigued by her for reasons he didn't quite understand.  She spent most of her waking hours mired in the study of the evils mankind had thrust upon themselves.  How could this woman remain good?  How could she retain a love of humanity with all she knew about the worst of human nature?  Yet this is what he saw.

As he casually reflected upon her, his attention wandering as he pondered her nature, a sudden sensation hit him. It was as if he could feel in a physical way a horror running up and down his spine.  As though he could hear inside his being a silent scream of fear.  Instantly he manifested beside her in a shadow of invisible ethers. A male student of hers had cornered her in a dark alley on the west end of Saint Louis not far from the university.  She often walked this way to visit a coffee shop at the Loop or to browse the shops.  It was not known to be a safe section of town, though Abigail had always done this unafraid—until now.

“I could say that you seduced me, and even if the dean believed you,” said the male dressed in a Washington University hoodie and jeans, “there would be an investigation.  That alone would ruin your career.  Why risk it?  I'm not asking for the moon here.  What difference does it make to you anyway whether I have an A or a D in a subject that doesn't even matter to anyone anyway?”

“Perhaps it doesn't matter to you,” she answered bravely, “but to many, myself included, anthropology is a significant pursuit.  To lie about your scores damages the integrity of the entire class, lessens the value of the work done by the others who have studied hard to earn their grades,  and,” she added emphatically, “it would be lying.  I don't lie.”

“Look, all I care about is getting my undergraduate years behind me so I can get into medical school.  I need a 4.0 average to qualify, and these credits will complete my Social Studies requirement.  There is no option for either of us here.  It's going to be my way or my way,” he said in a low voice, ignoring both her refusal and her reasoning.

“If it's so important to you, Mr. Reid,” she said, speaking calmly, though Calumnius could sense her emotions to the contrary, “you should have prepared for the tests and completed the assignments.  If you want to threaten me, then do so.  I will testify to the truth, and we will see who is believed.”

“You are so sure they'll believe you over me?” he said incredulously.  “You are risking everything.  Why would you want to bring such negative attention to yourself in such an embarrassing, humiliating situation?”

“For one thing, Mr. Reid, because I do not tell lies, and I see no reason to do so for your cause, which matters not at all to me.  Personally, I would just as soon have doctors in this world not so willing to compromise morals and standards accepted by society.  And secondly, because you haven't done the work or passed the tests,” she said calmly.  “I have verifiable records of your achievement in my class, or should I say of your lack of achievement.  Students who have sex with their professors provide excellent grades to show for it.  You certainly don't.”