A Deal Gone South

I ate lunch by myself the next day which was like signing your own death certificate, a one way ticket to high school exile. Randy and I barely spoke more than two words to each other since football ended. I needed his friendship but feared I had burned that bridge by my actions at the party, which now seemed so long ago.

The Cafeteria was thin. Our school allowed kids to leave the grounds over the noon hour. We were walking distance from main street Millersville which was lined up and down with restaurants and cafes. The cafes tended to the locals while the restaurants and bars served the tourists and weekenders; such is life in a town divided. The restaurants all had some type of occult theme. That’s how you told them apart. Damian’s, named after the weird kid from The Omen, was my favorite. They had the best onion rings anyway.

Michelle glanced over to me from her table of friends. Maybe she took pity on me, knowing how much I cared for Allison. Whatever the reason, she walked over and sat down.

“Hi Will.”

“Hey Michelle.” I smiled politely back.

"Did you get some sun?" Michelle asked, signaling that she could see my face turning red which only made the blushing more vicious.

"Um, I don't know. I guess." I looked at my plate to avoid eye contact, hoping she would go away.

“I just want to say I'm sorry. You must be going through things I can’t even begin to understand,” she said.

Her words provided comfort and validation. More than anyone, she understood what Allison meant to me. Maybe it was because they were so close. Maybe Allison confided in her, things about me that only the best of girlfriends can share with each other.

The intensity of the heat on my face cooled as I relaxed. “Thanks Michelle, that means a lot. I am, but I am ok.”

“If you ever need to talk." She touched my arm before getting up to leave.

“Wait.” I called out. “I would like that … to talk.” Michelle sat back down. I sensed she was uncomfortable, thinking I would just exchange a polite smile and not really engage her offer. I took a deep breath. “I just don’t know Michelle. What happened? How did it get so bad? There's just so many questions.”

“I have the same questions, Will. I don’t know if we'll ever know. All we can do is try to make some sort of peace with the unknown.”

“I can’t do that.” I shook my head.

“It’s ok, Will.” Michelle’s face was somber.

“It’s just, her father. He has a way of getting under my skin like no one else, you know. The thought of him makes me furious.” I clenched the cafeteria knife in my hand and told Michelle about our altercation in the street.

“I know Will, there's cell phone video on the internet."

“I don’t care. I don’t care who knows. That man is evil. He drove Allison to this. He thinks he's some sort of holy knight striking down evil forces and doing God’s work, but he couldn’t even love his own daughter.” My heart pounded as Michelle's eyes stared into mine.

“I think he snapped after what happened to Allison's mother. People say he was to blame for her disappearance, or at least knew about it. Maybe he knew he was guilty and the guilt drove him to madness, causing him to seek refuge behind religion. He took it to extremes. He's trying to run from his guilt rather than deal with it, blaming others through his hate preaching. Deep down he craves punishment.” I said.

“I know Allison blamed her father for her mother’s disappearance. She had to. I heard a rumor once that he was involved with the Outsiders and when things got too intense he tried to leave. People say his wife was taken and used as a human sacrifice. Do you believe that, Michelle?”

“I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what to believe around here anymore. Sorry Will, I have to get to class." Michelle stood up from the table and began to walk away, stopping abruptly and turning around. “She would have said yes, you know.” I glanced up, confused by Michelle’s statement. “She would have gone out with you, you know, if you would have asked her.” Michelle gave a kindly half smile before leaving. "She was planning on asking you out. I don't know why she backed down. That's when everything fell apart and she started going with Corey." A rock fell on my soul, shattering it like glass on a hardwood floor.

The sobering facts were becoming evident. “Don’t blame yourself. You can’t put that guilt on your shoulders.” They would say. They were wrong. I was to blame. It was my fault. I failed Allison. I failed to let my love for her shine, had I done so, things would have been different. There was no denying it. The very thing I hated Mr. Channing for was staring me in the face. Guilt constricted my heart, squeezing down unlike any pressure I had ever known.

***

I went home straight after school. My parents both worked late. Dad often drove a trolly at night and on the weekends. We never had a ton of money so the extra cash was nice, he’d often say. My mom tried her hand at many things, her latest being real estate. A tough go if you’re from a town like Millersville, but she did alright. She was one of those creative types and could sell people on a vision.

A town hall meeting was scheduled for that evening to address the tragedy and growing angst. A bad idea. The Puritans would come out in drones. Reverend Channing would certainly be speaking, not to offer words of comfort, but to stir passions amongst his followers.

I wasn't planning to attend, following my father's advice of staying out of the town's politics. It seemed like an adult thing, and the last thing I needed to see was a Puritan pep rally, but I felt I owed it to Allison to be there. A sane presence amongst the madness. As I predicted the Puritans controlled 98% of the room. My plan was to hide out in the back and be a fly on the wall, as the saying goes. Reverend Channing walked to the podium in grand fashion, like a mighty king about to address his subjects.

"My daughter was weak. Yes, it's true. It maybe upsetting for some to hear me speak those words, but I have come here tonight to do just that, speak words of truth. You see, the serpent has been spreading lies. He's a sly one. He tells us that we should all get along. That we should all work together to coexist. Allison bought into the lie. She was too weak to resist. She believed the lie and she paid with her life. She believed she was doing God's work by bringing our two groups together, mingling with Outsiders, trying to make friends with them. Looking in you can see where she had good intentions, that her heart was in the right place. Well my friends, that's where the devil hides. He tricks us into believing we are doing the right thing only to come against us and turn the tables. What happened to Allison could happen to anyone in this room. She allowed the thief to come and steal her light. Tonight, it ends! No more do we allow the devil to steal our light. Tonight, we make a stand. Tonight, we cast the devil out. Tonight, we drive him back to hell! Outsiders must go. Tonight, we take back our town!" Raucous cheers spilled out into the streets along with every Puritan in city hall. The mob surrounded the, Fritz Magical Emporium which was only a block away ... anger ignited, the only thing missing were the pitch forks and torches.

Something compelled me forward, screaming at me to speak out against the insanity. An inner righteousness that could not be tamed. My heart pounded as I fought my way to the front of the mob and into the entryway of the Fritz's shop. The crowd stared at me. I looked into eyes of fierce hateful rage.

"The hell you doin' boy. Get outta the way!" A shout arose from the crowd.

I searched my mind frantically for something to say, some way to put out the fire. My shoulders felt like they were being squeezed in a vice grip and my jaw wired shut with iron clamps.

"Someone grab him. Get him out."

"Wait. You can't do this." Two men wrestled and pulled me away. I lost my balance and fell backward."

"Not very convincing, Stark." Reverend Channing stood over me. "Always knew you were weak. That's why I forbade Allison when she asked my permission to date you."

"It was you who stopped Allison from being with me ... you're the devil!"

"Go home Stark! Get the hell outta here." Reverend Channing turned and pointed to the emporium. "You outsiders are no longer welcome in Millersville! The town is ours, get out!" Reverend Channing shouted with fists raised in the air. "Burn it. Burn it to the ground."

***

The town fell into turmoil; consumed with chaos the following day. The Fritz Magical Emporium was lit ablaze by the mob, the only thing left were the smoldering ashes. Puritan followers lined the streets with picket signs, marching in front of every Outsider owned shop on main street. The police showed up in full riot gear but it was just for show. The chief of police gave a sermon just last Sunday, you know where his loyalties lie. Time was running out for the Outsiders. They were simply out numbered. The drive to school felt surreal. I didn't know which was worse. A town divided, or a town run by self-appointed righteousness. I needed a stabilizing force, I needed Dr. Z.

“William, please, come in.”

“Dr. Z. How are you doing?”

“I am well William, and you?”

“Good and bad.”

“That’s a contradiction, Will, but life is full of contradictions.” Dr. Z. smiled. “You are working through tremendously difficult experiences and emotions. This is never a cut and dry, black and white process. This is a good thing. It means you're healing. It takes great courage to confront the darkness.”

I was working towards healing, but at the same time spiraling out of control. This alone should send me into a tumultuous panic. “Yeah, I suppose it's good.”

“William, you sound down about this. Is this not a good thing?”

“Yeah, it is. It’s just that I feel like I am not in control of my anger. I never saw it before, well, not like I can see it now. Just a split second thought of Allison’s father sends me into a rage. To be honest. It scares me.” Dr. Z. nodded as I spoke.

“William, this may sound strange but you have unfinished business. You must learn to let go of the blame you project onto Mr. Channing as well as yourself. It can be scary. It’s called forgiveness.”

"I don’t know if I can do it.”

“You can’t just flick a switch. True forgiveness can be a long and painful process, but it will always lead to true healing. Live life with love and love will be returned to you.”

“It is so hard for me.”

“I would like to give you a challenge, Will. Would you be open to that?”

“Sure." I was never one to back down when challenged.

“I would like you to find one way to bring hope to Mr. Channing."

“Really? Why?”

“He's hurting too, William. He has to be. Giving of yourself to others, relieving their suffering, and making yourself a beacon of hope are the keys to illumination. You must have illumination to understand the power of forgiveness.”

“Illumination. How?”

“Most people think of illumination as having knowledge and insight. I want you to think of illumination in the literal sense of the word.”

"I am not sure I follow you, Dr. Z.”

He looked at me with great compassion and authority. “Your light will shine in a dark and unholy land. The only way to ignite the fire is through love. Can you do that?”

I paused in a moment of contemplation. “I guess I could do that. Although, I have to be honest. You’re scaring me a little. What did you have in mind?”

“That's up to you to figure out, Will. It doesn’t matter what you do. You have to ask yourself if this person is better off for having crossed your path in life."

"I was always pretty good at writing. Perhaps I could write the Reverend a letter. Explain my feelings.”

Dr. Z. smiled. “I think that's a very good idea.”

“Maybe I could go down and talk to him in person.” My voice sounded elevated and hopeful.

“I would advise against that, William.”

“What? Why?”

“Remember, this process is about you. I know it's difficult to see. You need to free yourself from him, and the negative images you hold on to. I think it would be too much too soon. Your emotions surrounding Allison’s death and her father are still very unstable. Remember, healing is a process. It takes time and great care to do it the right way. Give it some time. Start with the letter.”

“Ok.” I nodded.

“I can sense your reluctance.”

“I’m just anxious to get on with it. I just want to feel better so badly. I feel anxiety just thinking about writing the letter."

“Healthy anxiety is meant to motivate you. Use it, Will. Faith is the key to overcoming your reluctance. Without faith we are nothing. Faith is strengthened and developed through experience. Through tribulation we learn to trust and are molded into the human beings we hope to become." A brilliant but faint white light, like the one by the school generator, engulfed Dr. Z's body. Love and warmth embraced my soul.

"William. It's my turn to be honest with you. I'm sure you have questions about my involvement in the Resurrectionists, as well as your own involvement."

"Do you know Justin? The Gateway?" I asked.

"I know of them. They don't know of me."

"What do you know about the Resurrectionists?"

"We are an ancient order of pilgrims who have heard and accepted the calling to help our fallen brothers and sisters. My own brother passed away several years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Was he sick?"

"He was murdered." Dr. Z. paused before speaking. "William this thing about being a Resurrectionist, it isn't easy."

"I'm starting to see that."

"It also isn't necessary."

"What do you mean?"

"I was sent here to protect you."

"Sent by who?"

"One with more authority than I."

"So, there's a Resurrectionist kingpin?"

"Something like that. My brother and I are on a mission. We've been on it a very long time."

"You said your brother died, that he was murdered."

"I've been in contact with him ever since he passed. There is no death. He guides me from the spirit realm. That's how I found you. He contacted your group for help with our mission."

"The man in the image on Corbin's computer, the voices that spoke to us. That was your brother?" I felt overwhelmed.

"Yes. He also contacted you by direct visionary communication."

"The vision during halftime. He could have picked a more appropriate time."

"Games aren't important. The mission is."

"Who was he? The disheveled man on the computer image and in the vision?"

"A Resurrectionist. Now you see my concern. He was like you. Almost identical." Dr. Z. said.

"Are you saying I'm not strong enough?"

"I'm saying you're not ready."

"Yeah, I've been hearing that a lot lately."

"Physician heal thyself. Be careful, a wounded healer can sometimes do more damage than healing. We need to continue our work together. You've made more progress than you know. In time you can be a powerful Resurrectionist, but now is not that time. Now is a time for forgiveness."

***

The civil unrest in town had simmered, but the embers still burned, like a campfire the morning after. Some shop owners boarded up their storefront windows, hoping to deter any potential backlash from Puritan sympathizers. The local economy suffered; weekend tourists stayed away. I guess ghost hunting lost its appeal when you had self-appointed righteousness shoved down your throat from every street corner.

Something changed within me, seeing humanity at its worst; the anger, damage, and destruction. I wanted to do better. The intense anger I held towards Reverend Channing had softened after talking with Dr. Z. His words reached my heart. I did have unfinished business. I needed to forgive Reverend Channing. The blame and anger I placed on him was a mirror reflection of what was going on inside of me. Forgiveness was the only path out of the darkness and pain within my soul. I went down to his street corner the next Sunday afternoon. I waited behind a building for him to finish his sermon. His words of hate for all sinners triggered strong emotions, but I held them at bay. I fought hard to stay in the moment, to stay hidden behind that building. I was going against the advice of Dr. Z., but I couldn’t wait. Dr. Z talked forgiveness, he wasn't a hypocrite, surely he'd forgive me this one time, especially when he sees how much I've healed. I needed peace to come to my soul. I needed it more than Dr. Z. could know. My will and resolve were strengthened by my love for Allison. I was determined to speak with her father. To tell him that I forgave him and no longer blamed him for Allison’s death.

“Reverend Channing.” My voice was shaky, barely above a whisper. He kept walking to his car. “Reverend Channing.” I spoke louder and firmer. He turned to face me.

“Mr. Stark. I told you to never come back here."

“I would like a minute of your time please.” He motioned me into the alley.

“What is it? I’m very busy.” I glanced to both sides. There was no one there.

“I'll make it quick. I just want to tell you that I forgive you. I no longer blame you for Allison’s death like I once did. I’ve had a change of heart.” I waited for his response but he stood silent. The tiny muscles near his mouth and nose began twitching rapidly along with his eyelids. He reached out and grabbed me by the shoulders, pushing me up against the brick wall of the building.

“How dare you! You arrogant little bastard! You dare come into my church and accuse me of killing my own daughter. How dare you!”

“Let go of me! It’s just how I felt but I had a change of heart. I just needed to tell you. To clear my conscious.”

“You’re conscious will never be clear, boy! In any case your soul is damned already!” Anger blew the wall down. I wasn’t changed by the civil unrest; it fueled the fire in my belly. How quickly it can grab you if you let it. A split second is all it takes. I swung my arms up and put my wrists between his, pulling them hard apart. He lost his grip on my shoulders and I grasped his throat. Thoughts fired through my brain to squeeze harder and harder. The more I squeezed the better I felt. Inflicting pain on someone I despised was oddly therapeutic. He was losing consciousness which made my grip tighter. My hands had never been so strong. I glanced up to see a murky faded image of the dark figure standing over us. His vile presence scared me. His grin scared me even more, momentarily snapping me free of the rage. I let go of my grip as Reverend Channing gasped for air. I slowly stepped away.

I fell to my knees, terrified to know how out of control I really was. I thought I was gaining control over the anger. I was dead wrong. It was stronger than I could possibly fathom.

“This isn’t over Stark. I’m going to press charges. You’ll be in police custody for attempted murder before you wake up tomorrow!” I kept walking, wanting to flee, fearful for what I had just done. “Stark!” He yelled again. Something made me stop and face him. “You’re right, about Allison. She called me that night. To ask if I would forgive her. She asked to come home.” The Reverend looked at me with callus eyes. “I told her I would rather she kill herself than forgive her for choosing the devil over her own father.”

I stood awe struck, regretting that I failed to finish the job. I hated him more than ever.

"The devil preys on the weak willed, boy. He'll drag you to hell if you don't get it together." Reverend Channing's nose was in my face. "Just like Allison."

"Don't worry Reverend. I'm taking you with me."

***

“I’m ready.”

“Will?” Justin's voice was soft.

“I’m ready to save Allison.”

“Slowdown, Will.”

I took a deep breath. “Sorry dude but I'm done. Reverend Channing is a monster. Allison deserves the peace she could never have in life. You're right. We can do this. Together we can save Allison and pull her out of that dark place.”

“Are you sure, Will? Are you alright?” Justin asked. I turned to see Corbin emerge from the corner of the room.

“I am. I've never felt clearer.”

“Good. Corbin finished tweaking Gateway. The frequencies will be able to match the density of the realms you will need to enter to get her out. Remember, it won’t be easy but we'll guide you. Did you read the book, A Treatise on Purgatory?” Justin asked.

“I did. I understand.” It was a lie. I never bothered to open it.

“Good, I trust that you do. Let’s get you on the table." Justin said.

I laid on the steel table as Corbin fitted my head with electrodes and hooked me up to Gateway. Before I could breathe, I was once again standing on the threshold of hell, my will stronger this time. I wasn’t afraid. Not in the least. I knew I would save Allison. I had faith that I didn’t know existed within me. I felt powerful.

“Can you hear me Will?” Justin’s voice was loud and clear.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” I stepped into the Abyss without hesitation.

“Ok Will, listen close. Same game plan. Stay off the roads and stay hidden as much as possible. Do you copy? Will?"

I remained silent and removed my ear piece."

"Will. Do you copy? William!" I heard Justin's frantic screams coming through the earpiece I had placed on the ground, just after severing communication.

I dropped to my knees, etching a circle in the dirt. With trembling fingers, I drew a pentagram, two points facing up. “Take me to Channing.” I commanded. I knew it was behind me before I even turned around. The dark figure's eyes glowed blood red with hatred.

“I knew you’d see it my way.” The figure smirked.

“Shut the hell up! This isn’t about you! Just take me to him and let me get on with it.” I commanded.

“As you wish.” The figure glanced toward the ground for a second and then back up at me. Its smile chilling, as if this were a game to him, as if he was winning and knew it. It reached a bony finger forward and touched my face. I felt power, ancient and dark, rip through my body.

I jolted through space like a lightning bolt towards my destination. Reverend Channing’s living room was modest. A reclining chair, coffee table, and lamp were his only possessions. Not even a picture hung on the wall. He couldn’t see me. I was a spirit. The staircase creaked as I ascended and moved towards the bedroom. The darkness within raged to barbaric levels. The staircase railing broke on command. Thought had become my weapon, I aimed to use it with vengeful intent. I wasn’t out to move pens; I was out for blood.

On earth, a person can appear beautiful on the outside and be ugly on the inside. Not so in the spirit realms, where all is laid bare, naked for everyone to see. In the spirit realm, your appearance is a direct reflection of the condition of your soul. I turned towards the mirror in the bathroom at the end of the hallway. A nightmare reflection stared back at me. My eyes had slits like a serpent and skin hung grotesquely off my face.

The mirror shattered to shards with the shock I felt at knowing what I had become. Reverend Channing ran out of his bedroom to inspect the damage. He knew immediately that he was in the presence of evil beyond his comprehension ... feeling my dark presence.

"Get out of here demon! This is a house of God!" He screamed as he grabbed a crucifix off the wall and swung it wildly in the air, spinning around like a top and falling down the stairs where I had broken the railing. The sight made me squeal with delight. The revenge I craved rushed exhilaration through my body like a junkie injecting a needle into his vein. I wanted to cause him as much pain as he caused Allison. I vowed in my heart to avenge her death at all cost after what he did to her. He belonged in hell, not her.

I wasn’t the least bit disturbed by the pleasure I was getting. Maybe I should have been. The night couldn’t have been more fitting. Terrible thunderstorms had moved in causing incredible lighting and earth-shaking thunder. A symphony of evil played out for all to hear. I summoned my gift and caused the lamp on the table above where the Reverend lay to shatter. He reached for his bible, grabbing it just before I slapped it from his hands.

“You don’t understand a damn thing in that book! You hide behind your lies!” I shouted.

The room filled with evil spirits. Cheering me on and jeering at Reverend Channing. The sight was sobering. Their hideous features and laughter caused a moment of reckoning. Was this really me? Was this really the quiet young boy who once so delicately cared for the old wooden shoe? I looked down on Channing with a brief moment of remorse. Horror overtook me. A large pool of blood formed beneath his head. He wasn’t breathing. I looked up. His spirit stood next to me. We looked upon the terror in each other's face, knowing without a doubt what was about to come.

I stepped back, ready to flee. The dark spirits in the room surrounded me. “Let me go.” I said, my nerve fading fast. One of them approached me. “What do you want!” I screamed with my last bit of strength. It only smiled, revealing its rotten teeth. “No!” The group rushed and began ripping apart my flesh and pulling me to the ground. Blood sprayed from my arms and legs as they gashed me with teeth and talon like fingers. Thick warm liquid ran into my eyes as layers of skin were peeled off my face.

“There is no return now murderer, you sold your soul, you're like us, we hate you!” They shrieked violently. The wooden floor beneath me opened and splinted. A powerful force, like a vacuum, pulled at my body. I grasped with desperation at the fractured wood, digging my fingernails in so deep they were ripped from my hands while the wicked spirits dragged me to hell.