On the 1st of March, Fiona complained about her arm because it wouldn't stop itching, especially with the cast on it.
'This arm is driving me fucking nuts.' She said as the family sat together in the living room, watching telly.
'What's up? Have you got an inch? Try scratching it with something.' Katrina said.
Fiona shook her head.
'Listen to it — will you? The brain of Britain sat over there. It's a cast; I can't get anything up there, can I?'
'I was only saying; you don't have to be so grouchy.'
'Nobody being grouchy, and don't start sulking.'
Fiona knew her children; she knew the moods; they would go into, often highlighted with little gestures. Katrina, when she was about to sulk, would make a tutting sound, and that's when she did.
'I'm not sulking.' She argued.
'No, well, tell that to your face then.'
The tension was building up between the mother and daughter. Steven could feel it, and he came into the conversation.
'It will ease it up in time.'
'What, the broken arm?'
'Yeah.'
'Well, that's a relief to know — because my arm has been itchy for two days now.'
'Well, is there anything you can take for it?' Steven asked.
'Yeah, sod all, that's what I can take for it.'
Shaking her head, Fiona looked down at her arm and told Steven about Chris coming around tonight.
'Yeah, I forgot to mention it.'
'What time at?'
'Eight. He's coming round to get those tapes.'
'Well, let's just hope they have something on them.'
'Let's hope so.' Fiona said, looking at her mobile phone.
'He'll be here soon.'
'You reckon we should tell him about your arm? What happened?' Steven asked.
'I can tell him, but what is he going to do about it?'
'Not much, I guess.' Steven said, putting a hand to his mouth, his eyes squinting in pain.
'Is your toothache starting again?'
Steven found the question ridiculous. 'When does it ever stop?' He asked.
Fiona looked at Steven, wishing she could do something about his toothache, but there was nothing she could do.
'Take something for it.'
'I think I will.' Steven said, going into the kitchen and putting some clover oil on his gums. Back in the front room, Fiona wanted to know if he had taken something for it.
'Clover oil.'
'Is it working?'
'A bit.'
That was all Steven had to say, and bang on eight o'clock, Chris arrived with Lisa.
'Come in.' Fiona said, the cast on her arm not difficult to miss.
'What happened there?'
'You know, the same old. What we got in our house.'
'It broke your arm!' Chris spurted out.'Are you in any pain?'
'A little, yeah, but it's this damn itch. I can't get rid of it.
Moving into the front room. Lisa said 'hi' to Harmony and Katrina. The girls looked like death warmed up.
Greeting Steven, she asked him about the latest incidents which had occurred to the family since their last visit.
Steven spoke, explaining what had happened to his wife's arm.
'So it's gotten worse?'
'Pretty much, yeah.'
'Well, we know someone who can probably help, Sam Mellor.'
'Who's he?' Fiona asked.
Chris leaned forward with his hands clapped together.
'He's a demonologist and one of the best. He's even appeared on several television shows and has written several books. At the moment, he has his own podcast show.'
'So, we might be; getting someone famous to help us?'
Lisa smiled. 'It looks that way.'
'And how is everyone sleeping?' Chris asked.
'Well, as can be expected. The demons, spirits, call them whatever you like. They always come out at night, always at...'
'Nine, the physic hours. It's quite common.' Chris said.
'I know; I looked it up on the internet.'
Chris nodded and then looked at his watch.
'It's what most people would do if they had to cope with the problem you and your family are going through.'
Lisa came into the conversation, asking the girls how they were coping?
'Okay, I guess.' Was the reply.
'Well, you're doing a great job.'
Fiona noticed as Lisa spoke to her children; she was a natural with the kids. And for a moment, she turned her attention away from the problems in her home and asked Lisa if she had any children of her own.
'I used to babysit quite a lot in my teens, relatives, family friends,' Lisa said, 'But no kids, not at my age.'
'How old are you?'
'I'm twenty-two.'
'God, you make me so old.'
From the ceiling, three booming sounds broke the conversation. Everyone looked up.
The thumping came again, a six in total.
'I think we're best seeing what we can find on those tapes, and the quicker we do that, the better.'
Everyone agreed.
The following day, Chris and Lisa met with Sam Mellor to go through the audiotapes.
Clicking the play button, all three listen.
Fiona's voice: 'Leaving the house and in a few seconds will close the front door.'
A few seconds later, the front door is heard being slammed shut, and for the next few hours, there is nothing on the tapes; until.
At first, it was nothing, but a slightly fuzzy sound, as though someone was tuning a radio station. Gradually, it became clearer.
'What is that, an aircraft?' Lisa asked.
'Sounds like one; turn it up.' Sam said.
Chris did, and now in the background, people were screaming, flames - cackling.
'Snrub erif sih, dog etah ew.'
'Did you hear that?' Chris asked, stopping the tape.
Lisa and Sam did, but it was just syllable nonsense.
'What was that, a dead language?'
'I don't know. It's got cadence, that's for sure. Rewind it back.'
Chris did.
'snrub erif sih, dog etah ew.'
Heavy gasping came from the recording as though the voice speaking was being twisted around. The sound was unnatural, unsettling. And in the background, two other voices could be heard. Childlike, yet the tone in their voices sounded old. Guttural screams — unearthly came as they spoke.
'leurc si dog.'
'Eh sah on ytip, llik eht sgip, epar eht seiggog.'
'Okay, you can turn the machine off now.'
Chris did.
'What was that?'
'English in reverse, demons when they speak, they never go by the rules, the laws of nature. It's why the numbers three and six are significant to them. The Bible tells us that Jesus spent six hours on the cross and that he died at three in the afternoon. Demons for thousands of years have mocked those times by turning them upside down, which is why most demonic signs come in threes and sixes.'
'Wait a minute, I read transcripts of demonic possessions. The demon has always spoken in English or the native tongue of the possessed.'
'No, what you have read is a translation.' Sam told Lisa.
'So, what were they saying?'
'I don't know. I would have to play it back again, but until then, we're best praying for that family.'
A few days later, Chris and Lisa went back to the house on Richmond Street, this time with Sam and for somebody famous. Steven and Fiona didn't have a clue who Sam was. Eddie Murphy, and Will Smith, he certainly wasn't.
Fiona extended her hand out and Sam shook it. He had a firm grip, but his smile was warm and pleasing to the eyes. The pleasantries were quickly broken by a booming voice — shouting obscenities.
'Fucking swine. Cunting pig, shame boy, shame boy!'
'He knows who I am.' Sam replied.
'He must do.' Fiona apologised.
'Hey, enough of that; this ain't your fault. None of it; demons are cowards, bullies. I want you to remember that, always. Can you do that?'
Fiona smiled; she would. Realising at that moment, she felt like a child again. A child who had been given a pet talk.
'Now, I'll suppose you're all wondering if we found anything on those tapes.'
'And did you?'
'I'm afraid so. We now think your home might be haunted by a demon.'
Fiona and her family didn't look surprised. Not after all the terrors they had gone through so far.
'We thought it might be that.'
'And that is why I would like to ask you a few questions and for you to both answer yes or no.'
'Sure, anything, fire away.' Steven said.
'I wish it were that easy.' Sam said, looking unsettled. 'Yet some questions could make you feel uncomfortable. Nevertheless, they are for your benefit, and it's best you answer them truthfully. Okay?'
'Sure.' Came the answer.
Sam smiled.
'Okay, my first question, have you ever taken part in any unholy ritual such as witchcraft, tarot reading, or meddled with an Ouija board?'
'No.'
'Do you believe in God?'
'No.'
'Were you ever abused during your childhood? Sexually, that is?'
'No.'
'Why ask us something like that?' Fiona asked.
'Because sexual abuse is an invitation for the demonic. Take the Earling, Iwona possession?'
'What's that?'
'Probably the most famous case of demonic possession in the twentieth century. Without it, you wouldn't have such films — as The Exorcist, although that story is actually based on a fourteen-year-old boy. The Earling possession is quite different.'
'In what way?'
'It tells the story of a young woman who, because she wouldn't have an incest relationship with her father, the man cursed his own flesh and blood to the devil. The woman, when possessed, would transform into a hideous monster. In the novel Begone, Satan described the woman's lips swelling to the size of hands and other disturbing acts.'
Fiona noticed that the girls looked unsettled by the Earling account.
'I think we should move on. The girls look a bit frightened.'
Sam looked over at the girls; he could see how frightened they both looked and gave the promise of one more question.
'Are any of your children going through puberty?'
'Just me.' Harmony replied.
'I see.'
'Why is that important?' Fiona wanted to know.
'Puberty, especially in females, is a high source of energy for ghosts and poltergeists. During a poltergeist's experience, emotional stress from teenagers who are going through puberty allows the poltergeist to use this energy. Demons take it a step further and use it for their own advantages. And if they don't have that energy, they simply create it.'
'How?' Steven wanted to know.
'By your own fears, anxieties.'
'So, any ideas why all this is happening?'
'Giving your answers — my only suggestion. The demon was here before you moved in.'
'I think it started before that — when I heard the scratching at the bedroom window.'
'Good spirits will always try to warn you if the supernatural will invade your lives.'
'I don't think it was a good spirit. You see; I saw him, even before we moved here; the old man.'
Steven looked shocked by what Fiona said.
'Why didn't you say anything?'
'Because at the time, we were moving into this damn house, the kids were playing up; I had a splitting headache, and I seriously thought it was my imagination. I didn't know it would lead to this, did I?'
'I suppose not.' Steven said, apologising.
'So, how do we get rid of it?'
'You might not be able to!'