The Unrequited Ch 19

Sitting in the sea foam green kitchen of Ed and Lorraine Clearwater Father Leo Aviles sat quietly and drank his coffee. Wearing his roman collar on a short sleeved black shirt, his dark muscular arms, youthful face and tousle of black hair made him seem more like a kid than a Priest. He had known Ed and Lorraine for over ten years, as they were regular communicants and faithful Catholics at St. Louis Cathedral, but despite their friendly disposition, the mood was quite grim.

"So Father" Ed asked nervously. "Just how bad is this thing?"

"Well Ed, I will be honest, it is pretty bad."

Lorraine, pacing nervously in the background poured herself a cup and joined the two men at the table. Having dealt with the paranormal for over fifty years few things rattled her, but this time she was truly spooked. Never had they ever been directly threatened like this, and seeing the grisly hog remains in their garage had told them that this was no ordinary case. She always took her cue from Ed, who never seemed fazed by anything. Demonic possession, no problem. Blood coming from the drain, piece of cake. The carcass though, that got to him and if it got to Ed it got to her.

Clearing his throat, Father Aviles made the sign of the cross. Seeing his motions, Ed and Lorraine looked at one another and crossed themselves. If his motion had meant to be comforting, it wasn't, and the tension in the room only got more extreme.

"Before we begin, I suggest we all say a prayer."

Nodding vigorously in agreement, they joined Father Aviles in prayer, both retrieving their own rosaries to join in the litany.

"Hail Mary full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art though amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death, AMEN. Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us." Crossing himself and retrieving a vile of holy water, the priest sprinkled it over himself and Ed and Lorraine as he continued.

"Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do Thou, O prince of the Heavenly Host, cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who roam the world seeking the ruin of souls."

Trying to inject humor into the tense situation, Ed joked "Wow Father, bringing out the big guns with Saint Michael I see."

His face deadpan, Father Aviles nodded. "Yes Ed, I certainly am. We will need his protection more now than ever."

Lorraine shuddered slightly at his words and drank another slug of coffee as he continued. "After your call, I did a little research. There are many downsides to being priest at an old long established parish like Saint Louis. Long hours, crumbling building and parishioners always comparing you the "old" priest, but one thing tops everything."

"What?" Lorraine asked.

"Records that go back centuries." Reaching into his black bag Father Aviles lifted a yellowed leather bound journal up onto the Formica table. Opening the book, he gingerly folded back the pages to the entries of 1808. Putting his finger to the page, he showed the couple the private notes of Father Sebastion Tussard.

"I can't read French Father." Ed spoke as Father Aviles smiled.

"Sorry about that. I will summarize. At the heart of this story is a tale of a jilted love affair gone wrong. Justine, a very powerful Voodoo priestess was the slave lover of Antoine Laveau, the rich, powerful and very spoiled son of one of the richest and most powerful planters of this region. Long story short, when Antoine threw Justine over, in order to marry Martina del Rosa, literally all hell broke loose."

"So, that was the spirit we saw on the tape?"

"No, it was not. Justine, after being jilted by Antoine was despondent and after cutting off her own hand to send as a grisly wedding present to her former lover, she made a terrible terrible decision. Being pregnant with his child, she made a pact with the forces of darkness to help win his love back."

"What decision?"

"She performed a conjuring ceremony to the Voodoo Goddess of love Mwamba, but we know her better as her role in the pantheon of Demons."

"Who is she?" Ed asked.

"Azmodeus!!!" Lorraine shrieked, instantly recognizing the connection.

"Yes, you are correct Lorraine, she conjured the Arch Demon Azmodeus, but the price the demon extracted was very high."

"What was the price?" Ed asked.

"Her child. Possessed by the Arch Demoness of lust, Justine ripped her new born child into pieces and bathed in its blood, the pact with the Demon now sealed by the death of an innocent child."

"Holy Mother of GOD!!!" Lorraine shrieked as she put her hand up to her mouth.

"Yes, we will need her help too. Now released and invited onto the earth, Azmodeus worked havoc on the Laveaus and throughout the whole parish for years. It was only after several exorcisms and a two-hundred-year constant vigil that her power was checked."

"So, this explains why no one has ever been able to investigate Magnolia Grove. This is no haunting, but a full blown Demonic infestation."

"Yes Ed. This is not like your other cases. You and Lorraine are in serious danger. It is good that you called me."

"Danger?" Lorraine cried. "I don't understand Father. Ed and I have tussled with many demons over the years." Holding up her crucifix she smiled. "We have never shown fear as we are fully protected."

"You have fought minor demons before, not like this. Azmodeus is not some low level evil spirt but a true Princess of Hell. The danger comes more from her devotees than from her."

"Devotees?" Ed asked.

"Yes. The slaughtered pig was a warning, and not a supernatural warning but a physical warning. The Satanists of this area, hiding under the cloak of Voodoo, have been waiting for this moment for a long time. They will stop at nothing to release their dark lord."

Lorraine frowned as a million thoughts rushed through her head. She and Ed had been involved hundreds of ghost huntings and demonic infestations over the years but for the first time in her career she was worried. "I am confused. If these human agents are so powerful, why don't they just break into Magnolia Grove and release the demon themselves. Surely a simple locked door couldn't keep them out."

"Very true, but..." Father Aviles spoke with a smirk. On some weird prideful level, it pleased him to know that he, a lowly young priest, still knew some things that the most successful demon and ghost hunters in the world knew. "No demon can infest or possess another, and this includes a house, without the permission of the owner. The gate the Laveaus had constructed for centuries will hold unless they, or the owner of the house, invites the dark forces in. Only with an invitation can they work their evil."

"And the threat to us? Why? We don't own Magnolia Grove." Ed exclaimed as he heard the Priest's words.

"No, but you can certainly work against them and keep the demon imprisoned. Anyone at the house during the Voodoo ceremony, or attached to it afterwards like you, is now marked for destruction."

Sitting grimly in silence, Ed finally spoke. "Well, I guess we have to move forward then. Justine's spirit's revenge on the Laveaus was legendary."

"Yes, but that really was not her. According to the priest that fought the demons back then her physical body died during her conjuring ritual and was buried in Saint Louis Cemetery. Her spirit, now perfectly possessed by Azmodeus lived on and as you know, slowly but surely extracted her revenge on her former lover and his new bride. Justine, poor silly and jilted Justine is just as victimized as the others. Hopefully when we confront Azmodeus we can release her spirit as well."

Right as Father Aviles paused the three of them looked towards the kitchen window that now was glowing with the glare of headlights. Someone obviously had pulled into their driveway.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Leo asked.

"No," Ed responded. "It is fairly late for visitors anyway. I can't imagine who it would be."

Their conversation was immediately interrupted by the sound a breaking glass. Covering her face, Lorraine was shocked as she saw thousands of shards of glass explode into the room as a large heavy object slammed into her refrigerator and bounced onto the floor.

"Holy SHIT!!!" Ed screamed as he saw the destruction waged in his house. Walking over to the window he saw that the glass had been broken by a large cinderblock and, as he looked up into the remains of his shattered window, the headlights that had been shining seconds earlier disappeared as the sound of tires squealing echoed through the night.

"Ed!" Lorraine cried. "There is a note."

Stooping down, Ed untied the note from the cinderblock and began reading. Father Aviles and Lorraine looked at his face as they waited impatiently to hear what the note contained but Ed said nothing. As he studied the piece of paper carefully, his face drained of all color and his hand began to shake. Tension grew as the priest and Lorraine watched and waited for Ed to report the contents but when he finally lowered the paper from his gaze he immediately ripped the note up into pieces and threw it in the trash.

"EDI!!!! Why did you destroy the note! The police might need that." Lorraine screamed.

Father Aviles nodded in agreement as he brushed shards of glass off of his forearm. "Yes Ed, they might be able to track down the people who did this."

"We are not calling the police." Ed stated flatly. "They cannot help us."

"I don't understand, this is not a supernatural event but vandalism."

"No, no police." Turning to his wife, he smiled. "Dear, could you run up to my office and bring me my Demonology index?"

"Sure dear, but, what was in that note?"

"Don't worry about it. Only kids, that's all."

Knowing he was lying Lorraine complied as she knew there was no force on earth that could get Ed to open up. Once Lorraine left the room, Father Aviles whispered to Ed.

"Ok Ed, what was in that note? I know you are lying; it is written all over your face. This is not the work of kids."

"No, it was not the work of kids. I tore up the note because I did not want Lorraine to see it."

"What was in it?"

"It wasn't a note, but a photograph, but I cannot get my head around what I just saw. I just can't see how such a photo was made."

"Tell me Ed. Tell me what was in the photo, maybe I can help."

Sitting down quickly onto one of the kitchen chairs, Ed collapsed back against the back. His whole body was tense and he felt his heart racing in his chest like a dozen racehorses. Looking up at Father Aviles, Ed's blue grey eyes were watery and tired. Looking down at him, Leo grew concerned as it was obvious something had seriously upset his friend.

"Ok, but I don't know how to explain it." Ed grimly stated as he inhaled deeply, looking for strength to speak. "It was a photograph, or at least looked like a real photo that appeared to be taken right here in this kitchen." Pointing at the table they were sitting around he continued. "Right here, on this table, Lorraine... Lorraine was". Pausing as he closed his eyes and inhaled he continued "Lorraine was tied down, naked and was being gang raped!"

Crossing himself Father Aviles gasped. "Dear Lord in Heaven, Saint Michael preserve us!" Scanning his mind for words of comfort he spoke. "But Ed, surely this is just some sort of horrific joke. I mean, you know how Photoshop works these days."

"Yes, I know. Obviously Lorraine has not been gang raped, but the photo was pretty graphic and quite realistic. I mean, I know you can manipulate images to look like anything you want, but there is one detail I cannot fathom how they got right. Lorraine's picture has been all over the news so that would be easy to get, but she has a small purple birthmark on her upper right thigh. Who other than she or I would know that?"

"Did you get a look at the attackers faces?"

"No. Two of them had their backs to the camera, and the one I could see, the one raping my wife was, well, he was masked."

"What kind of mask did he have on?"

Pausing, Ed glared at Father Aviles with an intensity that shook him. Clearing his throat, Ed took a long swig of coffee before he spoke. "It was a mask that looked like it was made out of a human face, like Leatherface from that old movie "Texas Chain Saw Massacre"."

"Could you recognize the face? Obviously if someone went to this amount of trouble to freak you out, the face would have some significance."

"Oh yes, I recognized it instantly. It was my face, obviously hacked off of my disembodied head."

Out in the swamps north of New Orleans, Camille slept uneasily on the couch in her living room. Her daughter had finally gone to sleep and now that it was so late her eyes had been blurry with fatigue when she finally passed out. The fog that had surrounded the house all evening had started to dissipate and seeing this Camille had finally been able to relax thinking the worst of the supernatural attack was over. Once dawn had arrived they would be safe until the following night. Whatever Marie had unwittingly awakened at Magnolia Grove had obviously sent out a beacon to every spirit for hundreds of miles. Waking by the sound of pebbles tinkling on the tin roof of her house, the rock onslaught ceased as soon as her eyes opened.

Yawning, her eyes flitted open and she struggled to focus. She was exhausted, but alert, her senses tingling as she sensed the danger had not passed. Casting her gaze on the painting over her fireplace, she sighed. She had commissioned the picture years earlier, wanting a portrait of her house that filled her with such pride. She loved it from the moment she bought it, the scene of her enormous house set in an endless sea of green seagrass always cheering her when she saw it.

Smiling, her face dropped as she sat up quickly off of the couch. Something was different now. Standing up, she quickly walked over to the painting and looked at the far left side of the painting. There, clear as day, was a small figure just emerging from the forests in the background walking towards the house. Too small to be seen in detail, it was obviously a human picture and had not been there before. Feeling a cold shiver go up her spine, Camille felt a lump grow in her throat as she knew this was obviously a sign.

"OK Man, pull this truck the fuck over RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!!!" Tony barked as he held the sharp edge of his switchblade to the trucker's bulging pudgy throat. Having looked for an opportunity to escape for the last few minutes, once he saw that they had entered the quarter he knew this was his chance. He lived only a few blocks away and if he could just get out of the truck he could get away.

Unfazed by the threat, the trucker smiled and slowed down, pulling over onto a side street. "You really think that you can threaten us with such crude weapons? I had hoped you would join us, as it would be much easier for us, as well as you, if you cooperated. Well, I guess we have our answer."

"Stop talking and unlock this door and let me out." Tony commanded as he pressed the blade harder into the soft flesh to emphasize his point.

Turning his head slowly, the unsettling grin on the trucker's face filled Tony with dread. Not a violent person by nature he had on occasion had to threaten the occasional rowdy weed customer, or slimy sub-dealer, but this was different. Normally having a knife put at your throat will cause even the toughest mother fucker to pause, but this guy seemed to have ice water in his veins. Pondering his next move, Tony screamed in pain as the trucker quickly spun around and grabbed his wrist, slowly crushing it in his hands.

"You are a fool Captain Tony. All you had to do was get us in the house and we would have let you and Marie go, but now, you have doomed both of you."

Realizing he was not going to be let go and with the pain of his cracking wrist loosening his grip on the knife, Tony mustered up all the strength he could summon and plunged the tip into the throat of his attacker. Pushing himself back in his seat after thrusting in the blade his body was electrified by his action. Expecting a torrent of blood to now erupt forth, as he saw the trucker laugh and pull the blade out of his throat Tony began to panic.

"Dumbass!" the trucker chuckled. "You really think this will work on us?" Pulling out the blade and turning towards Tony his face now grew even paler as his eyes became completely black, looking more like an animal than a human.

"Oh yes, I am going to have fun with you boy!" he growled as he grabbed Tony's throat and threw him against the door. "So much fun!" Now taking the knife, the trucker slowly ran the blade down Tony's sweat covered face and towards his chest. Flicking off his buttons the grinning demonic face began to lick his lips.

"Perhaps I will rape your tight black ass first before I lop off your balls. Mmmmmm, so nice! You are going to scream like that little girl I had so long ago. Begging and pleading for mercy as I slowly rape you to death. I wonder if Marie will scream as much as you when I power drill up her ass. Yesssssss, I am glad you chose this path."

Struggling and kicking, Tony was shocked by the strength of his attacker. He was no slouch, but the trucker had the strength of ten men not one. Trying desperately to wriggle free as his shirt was cut from his body, everything stopped when the pouch that Camille had given him came into view.

"What is that!" the attacker cried as he released his grip on Tony.

Realizing that this was likely going to be his chance to escape, Tony unlocked the door and opened the pouch, blowing the contents of the graveyard dust all over the trucker's face. Seeing the trucker shriek in agony as the dust appeared to boil over his fat leering face, he did not stay to see his victory complete. Stumbling out onto the sidewalk he ran quickly down the dark alley towards his house, his heart racing as the realization of what had just happened soaked into his mind.

Entering the doorway of his apartment building, once inside the lobby he stopped to catch his breath. Now feeling safe he walked upstairs to his apartment, jingling his keys as he walked. The past few days had been unbelievable, culminating in this incredible attack. Now inside he immediately stripped off of his clothes and walked towards his bathroom. Taking the small leather pouch from around his neck he opened the top drawer of his bureau and dropped it inside. Looking up at his reflection in the mirror, he was a mess. Covered in mud as well as blood, he craved nothing more than a long hot shower and a nice long nap. He knew he still had to arrange for his trip to Haiti and his worry over Marie gnawed at his gut. Now in the bathroom, he pulled back the curtain to his tub and turned on the hot water. Stepping inside he moaned in pleasure as the steaming water washed over his exhausted and filthy body.

As he soaped up his face, he jerked around quickly as he heard the clinking of the shower curtain open. Scrambling to wash the suds out of his eyes, he gasped as he looked through the steam at the far end of his tub.

"JESUS!!!" he screamed as his face turned into a grin. "You scared the living fuck out of me. How on earth did you get back here before I did?"

Standing naked and dripping in the tub was Marie, looking as alluring as ever a lusty smirk placed on her face.

"You would not believe what happened to...UGH!!!" he continued as he was interrupted by his girlfriend dropping to her knees and placing his thickening cock into her mouth.