THE ACCIDENTAL EXORCIST

THE ACCIDENTAL EXORCIST Part 5

When Abby arrived at the house in Del Mar, she noticed a black and white police car and a red ambulance parked outside on the narrow single lane street. The squad cars beacon was still flashing blue and red.

A few pedestrians passing by on the way to the beach with surfboards under their arms or beach bags slung over their shoulders turned their heads briefly, but just continued on their way.

Abby put the car keys in her bag and stepped out. Things were strangely quiet. It was the middle of the day and perhaps most of the strangely absent and invisible neighbors were probably still at work.

But where were the police officers?

A cold breeze gusted through the Phoenix Robellini that stood on either side of the Morgans' shut door causing them to make a serpentine hiss. Abby shuddered. Where was everyone?

She knocked on the door. To her surprise, it creaked open. Abby stuck her head inside just enough to see that it was disturbingly dark inside. The curtains must all have been drawn and the lights shut.

"Hello?"

No reply.

Not a sound but the hissing wind behind her ears.

Something told her viscerally: Get the hell out, and run! She almost did so. But her rational mind mocked her. You've been watching too many scary movies and reading too much Stephen King. There's a logical explanation for everything. You just don't know it yet.

"Right." Not feeling much better, only shamed by her intellect, Abby pushed the door open. "Hello?

Father McGhee?"

She took a step into the gloom.

Another cold gust blew at her. Perhaps the back door was open and it was nothing more than a cross current. Then the door behind her creaked again. Of course. Next, the wind would blow it shut.

How cliché.

Abby tried to find a light switch before it happened. But before she could, the door slammed shut with a bang. In spite of the voice of reason forbidding her to be frightened, she let out a gasp.

Her heart raced, as she found herself unable to adjust from the bright sunlight outside to the utter darkness within.

"Hello? It's Doctor Abigail Lee. Is anyone home?"

Groping in the dark, she found a wall. It felt odd. Not smooth, but not like the orange peel texture so commonly found on the drywall interiors of San Diego houses. It felt almost like-Oh my God!-like reptilian scales.

Then, thinking she'd found the light switch, she touched something cold, viscous, and wet.

Abby pulled her hand away with an embarrassing yelp.

Instinctively, she backed away and felt something small and hard press into her bare arm. A light switch.

Thank God.

For a moment, she hesitated to turn on the lights. The irrational fear of what she might find warred against the very real fear of not knowing what lurked in the blackness. Just before she pushed the switch up, Abby froze. In the distance, and from the sound of it behind a closed door, she heard someone crying. A woman.

"Cheryl?"

Abby took a deep breath.

Flipped the switch.

And found nothing but a living room, no slime or reptilian scales on the walls. Perfectly normal looking, except for the heavy religious emphasis in its artwork. Adorning the walls were paintings of Jesus' crucifixion, brown wooden crucifixes, and other decorations which shouted their faith. But all the heavy red curtains had been drawn shut.