I always hated the afternoon shift. Lunch rush usually gave fairly decent tips, but the better money flows in once the law types across the street at the courthouse get out and want to drown their sorrows or toast their victories. Sadly it’s half past three and there’s a whole one patron currently at the bar, and he’s mostly just been staring at his phone and not drinking. Thus making me no money.
I was just a bit surprised when two of my regulars popped in so early, and then alarmed when I realized they were both pale and shaking. They looked absolutely terrified! “Uh, you two okay? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost!”
The younger of the two, a man I knew who was worth outrageous sums to his clients and always tipped well that never had a problem keeping his hands to himself flinches at the word ghost. “No! I don’t think it was a ghost. I don’t know what the fuck that was, but I’ll live a complete life if I never see shit like that again!”
The older of the two, a judge with a reputation for being unflappable and stern doesn’t say a word, even paler than the man. She just sort of shuffled over to a stool and sat on it, leaning heavily on the bar. “Whiskey, please. Don’t bother with ice. Matter of fact, make it a double. One for him too.” She tosses her head at the man whose taken the next stool over.
Fair enough, looks like they both could use some liquid courage. I busy myself grabbing two glasses and putting them on the bar, then grab an expensive bottle that they’ve both preferred in the past. The judge sees the bottle and shakes her head no, “No, make it some cheap shit. I don’t want to taste it, I want to get drunk.”
My eyebrow raises at this, but I shrug. I pull down a separate bottle of liquor that tastes like shit but gets you drunk on a budget. Two generous pours into the two glasses, two napkins, and then I lean on the bar with my arms crossed. “Okay, spill. What happened?”
“Order in the court, all rise for the honorable Judge Annette Randolph!” The bailiff announced, and a woman in judicial robes came in and sat.
“Court is now in order, be seated.” The judge announced with the smack of a gavel, and barely suppressed an eye roll as she reviewed the docket. She’d read the summary last night and had to double check to make sure the glass of merlot didn’t have something hallucinogenic inside. Breach of contract because a house was haunted? Well, if nothing else it certainly won’t be boring. At least they agreed to judicial ruling, no need to worry about jurors turning into the peanut gallery. Both council seemed to be sensibly dressed, though for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why the plaintiff looked absolutely petrified or was wearing such an ill fitting suit. The defendant looked bored, which his counsel should have warned him against doing. It looked almost exactly like he thought this was bullshit and didn’t care. Well, privately the judge agreed. Guess we’ll just need to see the evidence.
“Since this case was agreed to be decided without requiring the services of a jury, plaintiff’s counsel may present their case.” The judge declared.
“Thank you you–” Plaintiff’s counsel began before the opposing lawyer stood abruptly and said, “Objection your honor! Point of order. Plaintiff is no longer the owner of the property the contract was enacted for. If he no longer owns the property, the contract is no longer in effect and cannot be breached!”
The judge frowned and looked at plaintiff’s council. “Is this true?”
The lawyer stood up and straightened his tie, “Your honor that is accurate. My client is no longer in possession of the property, however the current ownership does have bearing on this case and should not be considered grounds for dismissal.”
The judge’s frown grew deeper, “Well who owns the property now?”
“The Vatican, your honor. The home that was on the property was demolished on the orders of the church.
The frown was now off the judge’s face, replaced with an odd mixture of puzzlement and alarm. “I’m sorry, the Catholic church now owns the property and demolished the house?”
“Yes, your honor. The church was unable to remove the malicious entity from the residence and deemed it best to remove the potential threat to future residents. If it pleases the court I should also disclose that I was hired by the bishopric to take this case for my client, the Church is currently meeting my clients material needs while things are settled.”
“Well! I can honestly say this is a first. Objection is overruled. Plaintiff may present their case.”
“Thank you your honor, I would like to call my client as the first witness.”
Plaintiff’s counsel put a hand on his clients shoulder and murmured something to him reassuringly, and then nodded as the plaintiff stood and took his seat in the witness box. Once the man was seated the bailiff approached with a bible and swore him in as a witness.
“Mr. Baker, you were the owner of a home located at 1237 Wisteria lane in Oakland, were you not?”
“Y…yes I was. I still was up until a couple days ago.”
“And how long were you the owner of the home?”
“Uh, six months? I think? I uh, only lived there for about a week though.”
“You bought the house and only lived in it for a week? Why did you move out?”
“It uh.. it didn’t feel safe to be there after everything.”
“Odd things kept happening the house?”
The witness made a sound that was likely intended as a chuckle but came out more like a sob, “Yes, you could say that. When me and my dog moved in it was odd. Normally he’d be so curious and sniff out everything in the house. But when we walked into that house while my furniture was being brought in, he started whimpering and stuck to me like velcro. and I uh, I never felt like I was alone in the house. It always felt like we were being watched, and like someone was right behind me.”
“I see, and you mentioned everything, was there a specific event you termed everything. Could you describe what you’re talking about?”
“Well, uh, about a week after I moved in I was in bed and my dog was there with me, and all of a sudden he started flipping out. Howling and barking and acting like he needed to go outside despite having been less than 15 minutes before. And then I uh.. I heard stuff smashing and thought maybe getting out was a really really good idea. And then uh, while I was trying to leave it felt like I was um.. stuck? almost? like I wasn’t supposed to leave.”
“That sounds frightening! And what did you do after that?”
“Well, me and the dog got in the car and drove away… and the further away we got the worse my head hurt. I uh, kinda panicked and didn’t know where else to go so we drove to a church.”
“To a church? At what time?”
“Uh, it was dark. I don’t really remember. The whole trip is kinda foggy. It was weird though, the second I pulled into the parking lot the pain went away and I was just really dizzy and tired.”
“And then what did you do?”
“Well, the church was locked but there were lights on at the parsonage so I knocked on the door. For a while. And then the Father opened the door and let me in.”
“And what did the Father do?”
“He gave me a cup of tea and asked what the hell happened. I think I frightened him, I didn’t know it but I had a bloody nose and blood coming from both of my ears. We talked about what I’d experienced and he started to look worried.”
“Worried? Did he say why?”
“No, but he did want to go to the house in the morning. He let me and the pooch crash on his couch. I uh, I had real bad dreams.”
“And in the morning?”
“We uh, drove back to my house. He took out a bible and a thingy full of water and started speaking in a language I didn’t understand once we’d gotten out. Then he started flicking some water onto the ground and I went to walk up to open the door.”
“And then what happened?”
“He uh, he grabbed me and told me not to take one step further. Said that he didn’t think I’d be allowed to leave if I went in. Said I shouldn’t go back in for my things and needed to stay in a hotel for a little while. The dog wouldn’t get out of the car.”
“And that’s where you’ve been since?”
“Yeah, little while, huh?”
The attorney looked at the judge, “No further questions for this witness at this time your honor.”
The plaintiff left the witness box and sat at the plaintiff’s table, rubbing his face with both hands, almost like he was trying to rub the memory out of his skull. “Your honor the next piece of evidence I would like to present is on video, if it pleases the court could a TV be brought in?”
The bailiff left the room for a moment and came back steering a wheeled cart with a television on it, and positioned it in front of the empty jury box. “Your honor this is video taken from two sources that were recording inside the home in question. The first is from a webcam that fortunately included cloud storage, and the second is from my client’s security cameras.”
The attorney plugged a usb drive into the slot on the TV and fumbled with the controller for a moment, before bringing up a brightly colored room featuring a dog bed with a number of buttons all placed on the floor. “My client set this up to use on a research project himself and his dog were taking part in. It was intended as a means of allowing our pets to speak with us using words. Here we can see my client working with his dog on the project.”
The video begins and it’s the plaintiff looking MUCH less frightened and a smaller sized dog, maybe 35 pounds tops. The human would speak for a moment with the dog, and then the dog would pace back and forth in front of the buttons for a few minutes and then suddenly swat at one or two buttons. When pressed the buttons would say words. The clip in question featured the human asking how the dog was feeling. After a moment to consider, the dog swatted a pair of buttons. One said, “Happy” the other said, “Love you.” The man then gleefully clapped his hands and gave the dog a treat.
“Well, that is certainly an endearing little hobby, but I fail to see the relevance.” The judge answered, fighting hard to keep a neutral demeanor. That was an adorable little scene.
“That’s what the second clip is for. This was taken a few days before my client was forced to abandon his home and all of his belongings.” The next video was completely black, but sounds could still be heard. “As a part of the research program, the camera is streamed to a third party storage location and not to be turned off. It was intended to provide proof of the validity that the animals weren’t coached.” The attorney had to fight an urge to shake his head, that wouldn’t prove a damn thing in court, but in this instance the naivety paid off.
The attorney hits the play button once again, and though the screen is black the neutral voice from the buttons can be heard occasionally. “Ouch” “Scared” “He” “Come” “Scared” “He” “Come” seemed to repeat eerily.
The clip pauses once again, and the attorney says, “Those four words were repeated over three hundred times that night while no one was in that room. And this was taken the night before my client was forced from his home”
The screen is dark once again. “Run” “He” “Come” “Run” “Run” “Run” “Run” “He” “Come”
As the screen pauses once again, the doors at the rear of the court open and a little old man in the vestments of a priest walks through the door and lets it shut quietly before walking into the courtroom proper and sitting in a bench behind the plaintiff’s table. The priest lays a hand on the plaintiff briefly and says something to him quietly, then gives his shoulder a pat and takes a seat.
The judge frowns at the new entry, “I thought these proceedings were closed?”
Plaintiff’s counsel replies, “It is your honor, the Father is here as a witness. I believe there was a scheduling conflict.”
The judge nods, “Proceed.”
The attorney speaks once again, “This was taken in the same room the night my client was forced from his home.”
“Run” “Run” “Run” “He” “Here” “Run” “Run” “He” “Here” “Run” and then no neutral voice can be heard, but there is the sound of shattering plastic and… was that a roar?
“This next clip was taken by the security cameras in my client’s home. They did have night vision but could not record audio. It shows the room in the basement with the buttons and several other areas of the home. For brevity I’ve asked the security company to string together the relevant sections into one contiguous video, however the full duration is available if the court would like to review.
The video resumes playing once again, and all of the buttons can be seen in the green coloration of night time video. As the video zooms in, the buttons being pressed is clearly visible, with nothing and no one there to press them. Same for the second night. The third night however, the buttons were visibly depressed, and then a button appears to lift off of the floor before shattering, as if someone had picked the button up and squeezed until it popped. Then other buttons were lifting off of the grown and being thrown at the walls and shattering.
The feed switches to a hallway where a disheveled plaintiff can be seen saying something to his dog, who is absolutely frantic. As he gets closer and closer to the exit of the home, he is visibly slowing and wobbling. At one point the dog actually grabs the man’s pant leg and begins dragging him to the door, doing his best to help. Finally the man staggers out of the front door and the feed switches to an exterior view, where the man drunkenly staggers out to his vehicle, throws the dog in and then drives off before a burst of static fills the feed and then goes blank.
“After that your honor, all of the cameras and electronics in the house stopped working. For my next witness I would like to call the Father to the stand.”
The bailiff swears in the little old man who positively beams at the bailiff, who can’t help but smile back.
“Father, you met my client one night about six months ago, did you not?”
“Why yes! Yes I did! Oh, dear me.” The priest begins to answer enthusiastically, and accidentally knocks the microphone into the witness box. He sheepishly stoops slowly down and puts it back on the railing where it was sitting.
“Could you describe how you met my client?”
“Oh, yes. I met that nice young man over there in the middle of the night! I honestly didn’t hear the knocking but I did grow a little concerned when I heard a dog howling in distress. When I went to investigate I heard the knocking and opened the door. He gave me quite the fright!”
“He frightened you? Why?”
“His face was covered in blood and he looked quite pale and weak! Not precisely the usual fare of late night visitors to the parsonage!”
“And you let him in? Despite being covered in blood?”
“Oh of course! I highly doubt someone in his state was coming to do me a mischief, and if the worst did happen, well, I’m an old priest. If it’s my time, it’s my time. Oh, goodness me!” This time the priest dropped something which rolled around behind him, and he stooped down once again to pick it up.
“Are you okay Father?”
“Oh! Yes. Just so clumsy. Where were we?”
“You’d just let my client in to the parsonage, what did he say?”
“Oh! He was quite dazed. Kept muttering about the dog dragging him out of the house and things smashing inside. Must have been absolutely dreadful for him. I calmed him down with a cup of tea and left him and his charming little friend on the couch.”
“You left him on the couch? You didn’t go to bed?”
“Oh heavens no! I needed to make a phone call. Happily enough time being what it is it was about breakfast time in Rome and I needed to speak with an old friend of mine.”
“An old friend? Who was this friend?”
“Oh! Dear. I believe he’s an archbishop now. We went through seminary together.”
“What did you speak with him about?”
“Well, I asked him how for advice on what to do, see the young man that staggered in had all the hallmarks of someone who was very nearly possessed!”
“Possessed.”
“Oh, my yes. An entity attempted to force that young man out of his own body! I remember the signs we were taught all those years ago.”
“I see. And then?”
“Well, I made sure that young man and his friend were asleep, and then I tried to sleep myself. It was quite difficult.”
“Why was it difficult for you to sleep?”
“Oh, well. I was mostly excited, maybe just the teeniest bit frightened.”
“Frightened? Why?”
“In seminary we were taught an entity is as strong as it’s reach. And that young man was at risk right up until he pulled into the church. Could practically smell the brimstone on him. I can’t imagine it was very pleasant for him”
“I see… and in the morning?”
“Well, I dug out my old textbook for exorcisms and grabbed my aspergillum and we went to the house the young man was living in.”
“And then you attempted to exorcise the house?”
“Oh goodness no! That would have been suicidal. I stopped the young man from entering the very second I saw the holy water boil off.”
“The holy water.. boiled off?”
“Yes! In the presence of a malign entity holy water has a tendency to boil and froth. I’d never seen the stuff just boil away like that! Quite the shock I assure you. I made sure that young man didn’t open the door and got him set up at a hotel, and then I called my superiors once again.”
“You called them again? Why?”
“Well, you see, I’d never even heard that was possible. And when I spoke with um… several people at the Vatican I was given instructions.”
“Instructions?”
“Um, oh. Dear. Um, I don’t think I can relay them verbatim, but they amounted to make sure no one else went into the house. I was told help was on the way.”
“Help was on the way?”
“Oh, my yes! The church flew out a number of very experienced people to come deal with whatever was in that house.”
“A number of very experienced people?”
“I think you’d know them best as exorcists. I believe there was a full dozen of them.”
“A dozen exorcists?”
“Yes! They gave me quite the hard time about calling them too. At least until we got to the house.”
“And then?”
“Well, they attempted to start a ritual to begin exorcising the entity from the house.”
“Attempted?”
“Oh! Yes. They were stopped.”
“Stopped?”
“Yes. The entity made all of their aspergillums explode. Boiled the holy water inside until they shattered!”
“The entity did this.”
“Oh, my yes. Nothing else they attempted even made a dent! Eventually they decided the house was beyond saving and put it to the torch.”
“Put it to the torch? You said the home was demolished!”
The priest paused for a moment to blink slowly at plaintiff’s counsel. “That is a means of demolition, is it not? We reimbursed the young man for the home, unfortunately Mother churches pockets are not endless and we weren’t able to provide much money to assist with repurchasing all his possessions. That’s why we contracted your services and recommended a lawsuit.”
“Uh, thank you Father. No further questions your honor.”
The old man beamed at the attorney and began climbing down from the witness box. As he exited he paused, “Oh, dear. I apologize but would it be possible to have a.. um.. what’s the word…”
He trails off for a moment and then brightens. “Oh! Yes! Right. May I approach the bench?”
The judge eyeballs the priest but shrugs internally, might as well, he seems harmless.
“The witness may approach.”
The old man shuffles up and the judge obligingly covers the microphone. He sees her covering the microphone and shakes his head, simply pulling out a folded white piece of paper. The judge takes it from the priest before he walks back to his spot on the benches behind the plaintiff.
The paper read, “The defendant when he is called will become very agitated after sitting down. Please for your own safety remain as far from him as you can, and do NOT under ANY circumstances have the bailiff approach with a bible. No matter what you hear, DO NOT APPROACH.”
The judge read the note and then looked at the priest, both eyebrows raised. The priest returned the look, and the kindly old man demeanor dropped like a mask, in it’s place a stern look with ancient authority that clearly communicated, “I am not kidding, this is not funny, and you will do as you’re told.”
The judge shook her head like she was trying to shed water and then called the bailiff over. She just handed him the piece of paper the priest gave her and actually shrugged. The bailiff’s eyebrows attempted to climb up into his hairline and he gave the priest a funny look, but he folded the piece of paper and slipped it into a pocket. “Alright, next witness?”
“Yes, your honor. I would like to call the defendant to testify.”
The defendant in the nice suit seemed to positively swagger across the courtroom, taking a moment to sneer at the priest and the plaintiff before swinging the witness box open and sitting down. The very SECOND his rear touched the seat his entire expression shifted from smug to incandescent rage. He grabbed hold of the railing around the witness box and actually shattered the sturdy wood to kindling, trying to lever himself out of the chair. When the railing broke before he stood, he tipped his head back and roared.
Well, roared may be an anemic word for what emitted from the mouth of the defendant. All of the lights in the room turned off, windows shattered, and wind started to gust into the room.
As soon as the roar began to dissipate, the doors at the rear of the room SMASHED open and a double line of priests filed into the courtroom, eyes locked on whatever it was that sat down. The priest who was initially sitting behind the plaintiff grabbed him and pushed him to the rear of the room, and with speed and agility one would expect from a man half his age, grabbed both of the lawyers and began to drag them away from the stand.
The judge, being not stupid at all only froze in panic for just a moment and then did as she was instructed and grabbed the bailiff and went in the same direction the priest was pulling people.
The priests approached the formerly orderly courtroom and spaced themselves evenly in an arc around the witness box, all of them murmuring. Two of the priests pulled censers from their robes and lit them, another knelt down and pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket and began inscribing on the floor.
The judge and the bailiff, screaming in justifiable terror fled into the same corner the first priest had deposited both lawyers and the plaintiff. The judge shouted at the old priest to be heard over the noise, “What the hell is going on?!”
The priest gives her a grim smile, “I believe Hell has lost a resident, and I do apologize for the mess. Would you be so kind as to make sure everyone stays here? Things are about to get exciting.”
The old man gives her an encouraging smile, nods, and then stands and begins to stride with the gait of a much younger man towards the mound of kindling that was once a witness box in an orderly courtroom.
Contained within stood what once looked to be a perfectly ordinary, if exceptionally smug, man. Now? Well, he looked remarkably less ordinary and a whole lot more frightening. Glowing red eyes, horns visibly growing from the forehead. As the priest with the chalk continued to mark up the floor, starting at one side and moving to the next, creating an arc on the ground that would form a part of a circle centered on the witness box.
The old priest crossed a space evidently left for him in that arc without breaking stride, and the priest with the chalk filled that in behind him. The old priest spoke once he was inside, and though his tone was conversational, it was oddly audible over the roaring of the wind and the roaring of.. whatever the defendant was. “Oh, do be quiet. I realize you’re upset but a tantrum like this is unseemly.”
Instantly the roaring seemed to cut off, the wind died down and the roaring ceased. The pile of clueless people in the corner needed a moment before they realized they could stop screaming. “Oh, it’s you.” The defendant said. “I didn’t recognize you at all! The years haven’t been kind. I thought to myself, surely that irritating man should be dead by now, it’s been an eternity the way you mortals measure time.”
“Merely forty years! Moloch is going to be most displeased that you’ve managed to fumble his escape once again. I shudder to think what will happen to you once you’re sent back to whence you came.”
“Forty years and you’re still upset about that girl?”
As the discussion went back and forth between them, the priest with the chalk finished on the floor and nodded to the 9 priests who had been standing and murmuring. As one they all knelt down, and along with the one who had been inscribing, placed their hands on the intricate drawing of chalk. Suddenly the chalk began to glow, and then spread. Soon enough a circle of light began to emerge, caring not at all about paltry things like walls or debris. As soon as this was accomplished one of the men in robes shouted, “NOW LOUIS!”
And the priest who was so calmly speaking to the defendant pulled an ancient looking flintlock from beneath his robes, leveled it at the body of the man and pulled the trigger. The massive bullet struck the body squarely in the forehead, directly between the two horns that had emerged out of his forehead and seemed to sink in only half way, as if it stuck and stopped. The body dropped like a marionette with it’s strings cut, and the judge was able to see a shimmering form briefly. Red skinned, horned, with the black bones where wings had once been found. The circle of light started to shrink quite rapidly in towards the middle and was soon gone, along with the shimmering form. Nary a chalk line remained.
“Yes, yes I am.” The old priest said, his arm sagging towards the floor. He made the sign of the cross with his empty hand and murmured, “Be at peace.”
The judge looked at the plaintiff’s lawyer, and then at the defendants lawyer, and sniffed. “Did… did someone piss their pants?”
All three men gave themselves a quick pat down and shook their heads, no. And then the bailiff looked at the plaintiff, who seemed to be mostly catatonic on the floor. “Oh, yeah. He did.”
After the third round of drinks their story comes to a close. This has to be bullshit, that shit doesn’t happen to people! “Okay, what’s the punch line? You guys really expect me to believe a bunch of priests busted into your courtroom, blew the defendants head off, and then exorcised a demon?”
The indignation on the lawyer’s face told me that he was very much not kidding, and he opened his mouth to make a hot retort. Just before he spoke though, the bell above the door jingled and when I turned to look at the people filing in my jaw damn near hit the floor.
Thirteen Catholic clergy entered the bar one after the other. Some had the starched white clerical collars of priests, others wore plain brown robes and tonsured heads of monks.
The lawyer sees that procession into the bar and any color that had flooded his face from the large amount of cheap rot gut drained immediately, leaving him paler than he was when he came in. “Uh uh. Absolutely not. I’m done working for the Vatican. Tell the Pope he can kiss my ass. See you around Annie.”
He stood up and tottered slightly standing up from the stool, dug in his pocket for a wallet, pulled a hundred dollar bill from it with a trembling hand and slammed it on the bar before staggering out the door, already trying to hail a taxi.
An old looking guy walked right up to the judge and gave her shoulder a pat, and then he turned to me. Before he could say a word I just ducked down and blurted, “I’m not possessed! Don’t shoot me!”
He gave me a broad smile and one of those weird finger waves priests do in benediction, “Fret not my child, I just wanted to ask if you had a bottle of Jameson and thirteen glasses for myself and my brethren to partake with.”