Chapter Twenty-Two: A Disclaimer

Catherine,

I rang the bell, and the next moment, heavy footsteps began stumbling towards the door. With a twist, the door opened and a smile welcomed me. Topless and still wet behind the ear, smelling like blueberries.

He leaned against the wall with his shoulder while still grabbing onto the door. "Oh, hello there, sweetcheeks. Fancy finding you here", he said with full a bloated confidence.

"Nice to meet you too, Mortise. Actually, I was looking for you. Would you mind letting me in, I would like to talk with you," I replied.

"Talk, huh?" he said while instinctively looking over his shoulder, then back at me. "Actually, how about you wait out here, and I will go and get my coat, then we can..." I interrupted him with a swift kick to the door, not finding his secrecy entertaining. He jumped backward and the door flung open.

"Okay, sure, come in," Mortise said, walking away. Unlike him, the room smelled filthy and dimly lit. Upon entering, my eyes went to the large black stain on the floor in the center of the room, with two beds pushed away from the wall. The entire room was filled with a burning smell, almost like a fire had broken out in there.

"What the hell happened here, what did you do?" I asked Mortise with disgust in my tone as he pulled on his shirt. Having my senses defiled by this room's atmosphere made me wanna walk out immediately.

"A demon crawled into my bed," he replied back. "One of those prostitutes?" I asked while having dealt with a few myself. He shot me a stare. "I don't know, I didn't ask," he replied, averting his eyes and quickly grabbing a half-empty bottle of whisky.

"Care to have a drink?" he asked, desperately trying to change the subject. "Oh...hmm, sure", I said, ignoring the rest of the room.

Mortise,

For Christ's sake, why couldn't she wait outside? "Fucking shit hole," I cursed under my breath and quickly placed the two glasses on the barely clean table, pouring out some whisky. While she slid onto the chair in front of me.

"So, are you invited to the gathering?" I asked, sitting down. "Yeah, Saint insisted that I attend it," she said with that pretty face. "I would have loved to join you, but there are things I got to deal with here," I replied.

"Are you talking about the demon picking out souls? I can help you with that if you like", She said. "Really, is that so? I thought you would be more fed up with demons", I asked while she mindlessly swirled the liquid in the glass, taking a few seconds before speaking again.

"Actually, I had several questions about what happened in LA. I will be honest with you, that whole ordeal left me with blank spots. Why did I end up on a random street, alone, after you took care of Asmodeus? And it's not like it's personal Mortise, but it was highly unlike me to sleep with you at that moment," She said, putting all of her attention on me.

I smirked back, "Well, I will pretend that did not hurt. Yes, it was his influence," I replied, "We might be safe from outright possession, but their influence will screw with your mind. But regardless, what happened, happened, and you can thank me since I am certain you saw what happened to those that did come under the influence," I said, as I rested my elbow on the table and rested my head on top of my hand.

"If you want, I can give you a fresh reminder," I said with the gentlest tone, wanting it to sound as cheesy as possible. But instead of rolling her eyes, she kept them locked on me.

"Perhaps," She replied a second later. Her reply caused me to raise my eyebrow at her, while she went back to staring at her half-empty glass, "You know Mortise, I had a dream before I met you," she continued speaking.

"I saw a frightened child running through a burning house with something in the darkness chasing him. This thing was contorted and twisted, and then it would end the same way every time. The child would come outside, reaching a well surrounded by trees and a burning sky. Then the ground would cave in, and I would wake up with pain in my chest. Do you know anything about that?", She said all that, then looked back at me.

There was a pause, a moment where I collected my thoughts. "I could explain myself, or I could kill you. It will be easier that way?" I asked, and she stared at me. My words took her back but supposedly reminded her of the last time I asked something similar.

"What would that do?", She asked calmly. "I don't really know how this all works, but that's how it worked for me," I said and brought my finger up to my head, pointing to it. "Humanity. Do you want answers? Things that are kept hidden from you. Then you should be willing to lose it, and that is the price you will have to pay to make everything easier to swallow," I replied, straightening my back.

"Try me?" She said, and I sighed. "It smelled like shit and looked like a mountain in the middle of erupting. That is what I found at the bottom. Evil, unholy, everything hell out there, and the worst part was that it could speak. It didn't have a mouth, so it said what it wanted right inside my head," I said, momentarily closing my eyes.

I opened them, and the dank smell of the room was instantly enveloped with a deep sense of red and heat. I opened my eyes to see the construct in front of me. Underneath the black sky and surrounded by a viscous red surface stretched as far as one's eyes could see. Makob's aura flowed in and out of the large stones paling around a central force, making the bulk of the entity. Ever so slowly, like throwing a hint of subtlety into the wind.

I again closed my eyes and opened them to see a more pleasant sight in front of me. "Frankly speaking, I believe I never left, and honestly, if you could avoid ever finding out, it would be better for you," I said, and she finally rested her shoulder on the back of the chair.

"Will I be able to see the same thing as you?" she asked. "No, not necessarily. I am highly doubtful we have the same personal demons," I replied, and she perked up with a sudden irritation in her face.

"Okay, then what does it have to do with me killing myself?" she asked. "No, no, no, not you or anyone else. It has to be by my hands since I can make sure you don't get back up," I interjected. "Rather, you could get as far away as possible from me, saint, and anyone else that comes knocking at your door," I added.

"Is that it? The whole point of being cryptic is to ask me to hide myself?" she asked. "Well, honestly, I believe this will be better for you..." "Don't decide for me," she snapped at me, and for a moment, I paused.

"Don't take it as a wrong way, rather as a disclaimer. Of course, you can choose whatever you want to, and if you are planning to stay, you might as well help out then, huh?" I said, lifting my glass as a toss. "For us, I guess", I said, and she reluctantly picked her glass up as well, "sure, why not", she said, as our glasses made a soft clinking sound.

I got up, giving her a faint chuckle in response. She also got up, and we left the hotel room. I quickly explained I was needed somewhere else, so she could go on ahead. Hence we parted ways

...

Raymond,

A tune of flatline beeped on a heart monitor, the lights flickering in the room, and panic seeped into the blood. The light faded from her eyes, and the body went limp and cold. The bruises on her fair skin, the self-harm that was inflicted by her own, stayed as a reminder. She was gone a while ago as the room fell into silence.

A hopeless father pulled his sobbing wife away from the hospital bed, pushing himself against the wall, both saddened and horrified, while a priest stood at the foot of the bed.

Then with a jolt, her eyes opened and leaped upward, almost lifting the bed with her, held back barely by straps on her wrist. The parents screamed at the sight of their daughter frothing at the mouth with eyes black as night. Her shoulders and elbows cracked loudly as she pulled away from the bed with all her might.

The Priest pushed the holy text alongside his chest, raising his crucifix at the vessel, "In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." He began with the exorcism again, causing the vessel's screams to turn into the roars of a savage beast. "Most glorious Prince of the Heavenly Armies, defend us in our battle against principalities and powers, against..." The sound of restraints breaking interrupted the Priest's prayer.

The screaming switched to manic laughing as the blond girl leaped from the bed, tackling the priest onto the floor. Horrified, the parents began shielding each other from something they couldn't understand.

"What! Where is your Holy God now, Priest!?". The young Priest resisted, grabbing hold of the thin wrist of the young frail-looking woman, who had suddenly awakened an unusual inhuman strength.

....

As events revolve, let's pause momentarily and pan out from this single room. As a patient, now a vessel chased down a family-medicine doctor across the hallway. Two nurses had barricaded the door against the patients, who had recently deceased yet were still actively trying to kick the door down.

Over into the small morgue of the Belton Medical Center, the deceased man had leaped off the gurney. He started strangling the mortuary attendant while the echos of pounding escaped from the closed cases, which were filled with what were still bodies.

Soon the mindless bashing of bodies overpowered the barricade, and it fell, and three patients broke through. All while, the vessel caught up with the doctor, inches away from the exit, tackling him down as the other vessels overpowered the nurses and began pounding them.

The vessel grabbed a handful of the doctor's hair, pulled his head back, and then bashed it onto the tile. The mortuary attendant started to lose strength, and black spots began to appear across his vision.

At that point, a voice echoed through the building, "That's enough. I don't have time for all of you." The doors opened wide to welcome their savior. The onslaught paused indefinitely as the vessels started peeling off their prey up to the ceiling. They watched, looking up at the contorting features of the vessels. Their jaws unhinged, and then they began to gag and discharge bubbling rotten substance out of their mouths.

All living were witnesses as the deceased started to expel their otherworldly adversaries and drop back to the ground. At the same time, vile substances started to move across the medical center toward the entrance.

The Doctor felt a piercing pain in his head with a broken nose, focusing on a pair of polished shoes. He moved his eyes up to look at the man's face, and the lights flickered, and in between the blackness, he vanished.

...

The blonde girl again roared at the young priest's face as her hands reached closer to his neck. Losing against the massive difference in strength until someone pulled her off him and onto the wall over the bed. Still shaken, the priest pulled himself together, hearing someone enter the room. Finally, looking behind him and seeing a familiar face,

"Mortise?", the priest blurted out, catching his breath.

"Long time no see, Christopher. You are looking well." Mortise said as he came to Christopher's side and grabbed him by his vestment, pulling him up to his feet. "What are you doing...here?" Christopher said, hunching down on his knees to catch his breath while Mortise dusted his back.

"Here to make sure you get out of this city in one piece," Mortise replied with a comforting smile. "Mo...rti...se!" the vessel roared at both of them, taking their attention.

"Ah, shut it!", Mortise exclaimed, raising his hand towards the vessel. The lights began flickering, and Christopher held his breath while he watched the vessel gag. Discharging rotten smog out his mouth, across the room, into Mortise's hand, disappearing into it. Proceeding this, the blond fell limp on the bed.

"There you go, problem solved," Mortise said, and immediately Christopher reached out and grabbed Mortise's hand. Staring into the palm of his hand, nothing unusual, then looked at him, "What did you just do?".

Mortise quickly pulled his back and grabbed Christopher's shoulder, "Come on, I don't have time to explain" Mortise said, pushing him out of the room. "Right now, you need to get away from the city", he added.

They walked into the hallway, seeing how disheveled the center had become. While the staff pulled each off the ground. "Why...Okay, alright. Be yourself, I guess, suddenly disappearing and appearing as you please," Christopher said, pushing off Mortise's hand and quickly fixing his vestment while walking alongside Mortise.

"Why do you have to be like that? Blame the Saint if you want. I just went and became all the rumors that were running amok with old bastards," Mortise replied, opening the door and holding it for Christopher to pass through.

"Rumors? So, you became a devil's child?" Christopher asked, humoring Mortise's replies. "No, of course not!", Mortise replied as they both walked towards the parking. "I am going to make him my bitch", Mortise added while they moved to each's respective car.

"Ah, your tongue is loose as always," Christopher replied, stopping in front of his white Hyundai excel. "Well, whatever, just wait for me at Central," Mortise said, ready to climb into his Jaguar. Christopher stopped, "They gave you an invite, right? He said, pulling his head out. "Dear Christopher, I have a VIP pass if you forgot it. It's called having the Saint's favor. The best they can do is bitch and moan", Mortise replied back.

"Yeah, figure. Well, for what it is worth, it was nice to see you again, Mortise", Christopher said with a genuine smile. "Sure, my pleasure," Mortise replies back. They both finally get into their cars and drive off.

...

The streets were empty and bright, the moon tall and high in the sky. A single car swirled down the road with Catherine in the driver's seat. One hand on the steering wheel, trying to keep the car crashing, and the other one trying to push back a manic woman off herself. Out of nowhere one had leaped into the car through the window and latched onto her coat and hair. 

A laughter escaped, layered with several tones and voices. Deep and high telling, "Come with us", "Come with us", "Come with us". While Catherine bashed her elbow square in her nose, she heard a swift crack but no yelp. The manic remained persistent, and in the bounce of frustration, Catherine caught sight of the lamp post to the right and turned the steering wheel at it.

This time she pushed her arm outside the window and grabbed the hold of the manic by her blouse and pulled her in. Throwing her onto the car's dashboard and covering her face with her forearm. The car connected with the lamp post, and the manic broke through the windshield. The body crashed and slipped across the gravel, leaving a bloody snail trail.

Back inside the car, the airbag had gone off, leaving Catherine's head wiped but still in one piece. She opened the door and stumbled out of the car, walking a few steps before catching herself against the wall to catch her breath. Not a moment too late, she noticed movement in front of her.

Demon possession carried a vessel's body like a doll. It didn't matter to the demon or demons how many bones were broken, muscles torn and bruised, or the copious amounts of internal bleeding. In the end, the owner will bear the cost and most probably die a painful, sudden death.

The manic body cracked as the bones moved back into their places, enabling the vassal to move once more. A bloodied and half-ripped face stared back at Catherine, "Come with us".