Paradise Made

Eight: Puzzle Pieces

His first words, when I pulled open the door with panic in my eyes were, “what's wrong?”

My answer was unnecessary because, even before he saw Jessie, the colour drained from his face, like he sensed it.

“Oh no.”

“Close the door.” I pulled him inside, re-locking it behind him.

Pen saw Jessie now, and he surveyed her with an expression of pain on his face. She watched him too, sitting up again, straining against her bonds. For the first time she'd stopped smiling.

“What was her name?” he asked me. “Jessica?”

“Jessie.”

“Well I guess you're a believer now. Pity, I hate to crush that curiosity.”

“You know about demons, then?”

Pen's answer was silenced by a burst of laughter from the creature in question.

“Clay's uncle knows about them too,” I explained. “He went to fetch a list of supplies. They're for an exorcism, I think.”

“You'd never pull it off,” Pen said. “Not if you've never done it before. Not you, who I like to think wouldn't grovel at the feet of God to cast this being out.”

He took a step towards the bed, and I followed, staying one step behind. He circled, the whole times his green eyes locked with the black of the creature's.

“Thankfully, you won't have to.”

The being that had once been Jessie laughed again. “What will you do, brother mine? Will you kill this body I inhabit, with scarcely a sin on her soul.”

“Maybe.”

Pen stood at the foot of the bed now, but I was backing away. The questions, and the theories, and the racing and tumbling in my mind had reached a critical mass and now all I thought was static.

“Or you could leave. Go back to Hell. Try again another day. I know you hate to leave after managing to inhabit a body, but isn't the alternative worse?” Pen looked back at me. “He can't kill you. Their police could shoot you and you'd live to fester another day. But I... I can kill you. And you know I will. So I guess you're shit out of luck, in that respect.”

The demon snarled, snapping at Pen like a rabid dog, with so much force that the metal bed posts cracked a little. He didn't even flinch, and I was seeing a side of my new friend I hadn't imagined. He grabbed her by the throat, slamming her back against the pillow. I was all the way at the edge of the room now, back pressed against the wall. Where was Clay?

Pen's moment of anger dissipated quickly and he took a step back.