The Exorcist and The Divine Order Chapters 1-10

This is a story of a young man who has been forced into a secret society who hunt down demons and other demonic forces around the world.

Chapter 1

March 6, 2015

“John, are you in position?” asked a female voice on an earpiece.

An echo rings throughout the subway station as the train arrives. The swarm of people are eager to return home. People seem to be in a bad mood, complaining about how it’s raining, that Portsville City’s subways are always late, and everyday life. They don’t even notice the young man behind everyone sitting on the bench, but he takes notice of them all. His eyes darted from person to person, listening to their problems to find his target. This young man, John, eventually spots his targets. Two men, soaked in worn-down hoodies, seem to be trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. The taller but thin man looked skittish as if the entire subway would blow up. As for the other shorter fellow, he had a bad attitude and was directing the taller man.

“Well, kinda,” says John in a slight whisper. “Two targets just showed up in front of me.”

“Well, move back and wait for me,” says a male voice.

“No time,” says John as he slowly stands and moves into the crowd. “The subway just arrived. I need to get on the subway, or we might lose them.”

“Don’t move in!” angrily whispers another male voice. “Violet said there are supposed to be three targets, not two.”

“John, Ben is right,” Violet calmly stated. “Wait for Marcus’s help. I will contact another group to arrive at the other station to hopefully track them down. There are too many people around for us to properly do anything safely.”

With an eye roll, John continues to move through the crowd carefully. Getting too close too fast will tip them off. John could hear the shorter man lecturing the taller man through the crowd’s chatter. The lecture makes the taller man more nervous and jittery; even so, John isn’t concerned yet. The people slowly fill up the subway carts, making the taller man look around as the station echoes with squeaky shoes. As he is frantically looking everywhere, he begins to sniff around. John notices the man’s eyes swelling up in fear and slowly reaches for his silver pistol hidden within John’s coat.

“H-Hey Dave,” stuttered the tall man as he stopped getting on the train. People who walked past him were intimidated by his oddly hungry-looking expression. The man began to scratch his wrists as the scent of all these people filled his nose; the deep desires of a cursed began to surface. However, there was an odd scent he couldn’t distinguish but was familiar with.

“Get a hold of yourself, Cole!” Dave whispers in anger as he grabs Cole’s arm to shake him out of it. “Don’t let the hunger get to you! People are starting to think you’re a crazy druggie!”

Dave shook Cole out of his trance and refocused him. Now, the weird scent filled him with anxiety. His eyes darted around to follow the smell. The crowd moving past him made it difficult, but as the crowd slowly shrunk in number, Cole finally caught a glimpse of a black coat that quickly faded into the crowd. Then, the scent made sense to him. It was the smell of silver, the smell of a blessing, the smell of an exorcist.

“What is wrong with you, Cole? Get on the train now before we are found.” Dave said, still trying to pull Cole on the subway. It was at this moment that Dave realized what Cole was smelling. Filled with overwhelming fear and regret, he shouted, “Light him up, Cole!”

Cole and Dave pulled out their pistols and opened fire in the direction from which the scent was coming. Everyone began to scatter in panic, with their screams of terror overpowering the sound of the bullets. John struggles to move through the hysterical crowd to confuse Cole and Dave’s sense of smell. A few shots flew past John, unfortunately hitting people near him.

The subway doors close as it soon begins to leave. Dave angrily runs at the subway for a second but stops when he sees Cole lost in the moment. Black smoke comes off Cole’s hands and the back of his neck. “Cole, come on! Don’t give in to the hunger now!”

Cole shoots until all that’s left is clicking; however, he no longer hears it. The sound of fear, the smell of blood, and the sight of the dead caused his hunger to grow. It was such easy prey, who could stop him? The temptation to lunge at the dead stops when Cole sees John emerge from the fleeing crowd. Cole’s fear snaps him out of his hunger, causing his smoking to end. Click, click, click. Cole now realizes that his gun is empty. John glances at a trampled victim and is filled with guilt. This was all caused by him, but John can’t afford to focus on it now. Reaching for his gun, John pauses halfway when he sees Dave aiming at him with a gun. John quickly dodges the few bullets Dave shoots.

“Cole, move your feet, d****t!” shouted Dave, laying out more cover fire.

Cole flees into the subway tunnel, with Dave not far behind. John chases after them, with Ben yelling into his earpiece. “What in the world did you do, John? When your father finds out about this, you’re dead!”

“Let’s focus on the task at hand, boys,” says Violet. “John, give me your status.”

“They are running in the tunnel; I’m giving chase now,” replies John. “They are following the train’s path.”

“I’ll rendezvous with you at the end of the tunnel,” says Violet with slight annoyance. “And please don’t cause any more damage, John.”

“Roger!”

Hearing this exorcist have a conversation angered Dave. He doesn’t want to be hunted down like some wild animal, so he stops in his tracks, and his body starts smoking. “Cole, run away. You’re not strong enough to handle this!”

Before Cole could answer, black smoke consumed Dave’s body. John stops, pulls out his pistol, and shoots into the smoke. This proved pointless, as it only angered the now beast of a man. From what little John could make out of Dave through the fading smoke, Dave had quills all over his body ripping through the clothes Dave wore and grew a snout type with long claws. Dave’s skin was covered with dark fur. The clothes hung loose on Dave as he transformed into a slimmer body, so Dave ripped them off. They’d only get in his way.

Out of the smoke, Dave lunged out to attack. John jumped as high as he could and flipped to land on the ceiling; it was as if gravity did not affect John. This did not deter the monster, only angering him further. This anger made Dave jump at the ceiling to slash John with razor-sharp claws. John dashed to the tunnel wall, avoiding the slash, and then pulled a handle from his coat. As Dave landed, John took the opportunity to strike and dashed at Dave with the handle. Dave sees the dashing exorcist and rolls his body into a ball to use his quills as protection. This does not discourage John as he presses a button on the handle that pops out a silver blade. John focuses on imbuing his sword with a blue glow, and then John’s sword erupts with yellow lightning. This is the real power of an exorcist. With a quick and decisive strike, Dave’s quill defense failed.

Cole could only stand there in shock as his best friend was about to be murdered. He wants to help, but Dave is right. Cole isn’t strong enough. John walks towards Dave, who is gasping for breath. Before Dave can plead, John points his blade and shoots Dave in the head with lighting. Black smoke arises from the cursed body, returning Dave to his human form. Even the dismembered half that John cut reverted to normal. Now that one problem is over, John turns his attention to Cole. Cole watches as John inches closer with blade in hand. Halfway to him, Cole finally found the nerve to run again. John rolls his eyes and thinks to himself, ‘Not again.’

Cole’s body begins to transform as he reaches the light at the end of the tunnel. He became a canine creature with gills and a beak instead of a snout. This gives Cole more speed as he dashes for freedom. Open land will make it easier to outrun an exorcist. John starts to have trouble keeping up, even with his powers. Cole finally makes it out of the tunnel into the rainy night. Just as Cole thought he was home free, he got hit in the head with something that made him spin out of control and fall. There was a loud sound that came with the pain, a gun. Cole has been shot in the head. The silver bullet burned the cursed, making him howl in pain. Cole was kicking around and whimpering. The silver prevented his healing factor from pushing out the bullet.

Cole whimpers out, “Dave… Jaxon… somebody… please save me….”

Cole hears footsteps walking closer. He sees a burly man wearing the same coat as John with a silver ax over his shoulder and a silver gun in his other hand. Unlike John, who wore all black under his coat, this man wore a white tank top and regular blue jeans. The rain had this man wholly soaked, and his green eyes were tightly fixed on Cole, who was unwilling to glance at John. When John sees the man, he stops. John can finally feel the trouble he is in once he sees Ben.

“Oh, shut up,” grunts Ben. He puts his pistol away in his coat, then he properly grips his ax and strikes Cole’s head, cutting it in half. The black smoke puffs out, turning Cole’s dead body human. Now that the job is over, he turns directly to John. Ben crossed his arms in disappointment. “As for you, you shut up, too.”

“But I got caught. It wasn’t m….”

“But nothing, John!” interrupts Ben, yelling at John. “You were told to hang back and wait for Marcus. Oh, speaking of which.”

Another young man was running out of the tunnel wearing the same black coat the other two were wearing. Sweat drenched his white dress shirt and black pants, even dripping from his shaggy dark brown hair. “Why didn’t you wait?”

Marcus goes to throw a punch at John; Ben moves to prevent the fight, but an ice spike hitting the ground between the two boys stops the fight before it even starts. The three turn their heads to see Violet walking up to them. She is also wearing a black coat, just like the boys, with a thin dark purple turtleneck and skinny black jeans underneath the coat. She sighed once she had their attention, “Marcus, don’t start anything.”

“Don’t start anything? He’s the reason that they are dead!” shouted Marcus. “Just an eyeball count. At least nine died, plenty more wounded!”

“I get it, but there is a process,” replied Violet calmly. “Reddrick will handle this.”

“Guys, look… I’m sorry,” said John sincerely. “I thought I could handle it, and they didn’t seem that dangerous, so I moved in….”

“You were wrong,” snapped back Ben.

Violet sighed at how common Ben’s attitude was, not so much about how he was acting now. She looks at Cole’s cut head and comments. “You could have tried to make it cleaner, Benjamin.”

“I’ve told you a million times to stop calling me Benjamin,” replied Ben in an irritated voice. “And you choose to focus on this instead of John?”

“I already said that I’m letting the process handle him,” says Violet, walking past the two boys to stand right before John. John didn’t want to but felt compelled to look Violet in her narrow brown eyes. “I have nothing to say to you other than that I’m disappointed in you, John.”

Violet’s calm voice makes John feel even more guilty. The regret made his stomach turn, which he felt throughout his entire body. The feeling almost made John sick. Reddrick, his boss, will enforce severe punishment for this grave mistake. Worst of all, things will worsen if his father, a strict enforcer of rules, discovers what happened. An exorcist who can’t follow the rules will be dealt with harshly. Seeing the worry on John’s face and not wanting to be outside in the rain anymore, Violet says, “Come on, Ben and I drove here. Let’s get out of this rain and get this over with.”

Ben wanted to drive, but Violet took the driver’s seat before he noticed. John and Marcus sat in the back seat on opposite ends. The drive was quiet and uncomfortable, the only sound being the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers. John watched the raindrops race each other down the window as other cars, their headlights cutting through the gloom, passed by.

‘Is this it?’ thought John, his heart pounding. ‘Are they going to kick me out?’

The journey to Reddrick’s office feels like an eternity to John, and every step is a struggle. The group arrives at their destination, St. Michael’s Church, without John even realizing it. Everyone exits the vehicle promptly, leaving John to drag his feet towards his impending fate. As they open the door to Reddrick’s office, John can only manage a deep, shaky breath.

Chapter 2

March 6, 2015

“What in the world were you thinking!?” shouted Reddrick at John. “The news confirms twelve died and at least thirty wounded. Please tell me how your actions can excuse this lack of responsibility?”

“Sir, they can’t… I thought I could handle it, but I was wrong…” said John in a low, frightened voice.

Reddrick was the church priest, which means he was in charge of the church and everyone in it. Usually, Reddrick is a calm and collected person, but John’s actions call for a more aggressive attitude. Reddrick was at least in his fifties, but if you looked at him, you’d mistake him for being in his late twenties. Reddrick dressed in typical priest attire, the standard uniform for priests of The Order. The solid black coats the four exorcists are currently wearing are the standard exorcist uniform. As long as it is appropriate, you may wear anything under the exorcist coat.

Taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose, Reddrick says, “John, I can’t hide this from your father. I have no choice but to inform him of your actions tonight.”

“Father Reddrick, please no…” began John, but Reddrick raised his hand to tell John to stop.

“John, it’s not a big deal when you oversleep or come into work late,” said Reddrick as he put back on his glasses. “This, however, is something that calls for punishment. I can’t cover for you even if I wanted to. This incident is all over the news. I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t called.”

“He’s too young, like I said from the beginning,” said Ben. “He joined The Order when he was sixteen. There’s a reason why you can’t join until you’re eighteen, and even then, you have to wait until you’re twenty-one to be blessed. He isn’t mentally capable of handling this job.”

The Order or The Divine Order is a branch of the Catholic Church. Its only purpose is to eradicate demonic forces and protect humanity from them by any means necessary. The Order is a militaristic force with different branches that do various tasks. Exorcists are the warriors of The Order, the official demonic hunters. They work in the shadows to complete this task. The Order would rather humanity not learn about the monsters that lurk in the shadows.

“He was indeed too young by our standards; however, many would have turned you away too, Benjamin, based on your history,” says Reddrick calmly. He sees Ben get frustrated at him for using his full name but doesn’t say anything about it. Ben has too much respect for Reddrick.

Tired and wanting to get out of her wet clothes, Violet asked Reddrick, “So what happens now?”

“I am going to ask John to turn over his gear to me. No more missions until the proper actions are taken. Finally, I’ll report this to your father; however, if your father wants something done, understand it’ll be out of my hands.” Reddrick sees the annoyance and fear leak out of John’s face. “John, what do you want me to do? People died today because of you.”

“I know, I know, I just don’t want my father to know.”

“He’s the Bishop of Virginia. I have to report this, or I could lose my rank or worse. Now, your gear.” Realizing that there was no way out of this, John reluctantly gave Reddrick his gear, a pistol and a blade. After he gave Reddrick his equipment, Reddrick said, “Alright, all of you go to your rooms, and no fighting.”

As they walk to their sleeping quarters, Marcus says, “You really messed up, dude.”

“Marcus, stop,” said Violet. “Reddrick just told us not to fight.”

“It’s not fighting.. yet. Just a statement,” said Ben.

The rest noticed that John didn’t have the energy to argue back. This led to a quiet walk back to the sleeping quarters. The Divine Order has a hidden living space under any church where they are stationed. There are multiple sleeping quarters separated by gender. However, it isn’t just their living space, as it is their entire base of operations. Yet the world doesn’t know the war The Divine Order fights. It is kept secret to protect humanity from living in fear and abusing the powers of an exorcist. Members of The Order fear if people knew of the looming threat, many would want powers for the wrong purpose.

Once they got to their beds, John belly-flopped onto his. Everyone else was already asleep. It didn’t take Ben and Marcus long to fall asleep either. John, however, wasn’t so lucky. His mind raced with what could happen. It felt like forever until he could finally fall asleep, but when he did, it was nothing but a nightmare of today. John tried to change the dream’s outcome by not following Dave and Cole, but the results were the same. Eventually, John jerks awake. His face was drenched in sweat, with the bed wetter than him. John looked around and saw he was all alone. Learning that it was a little past six o’clock in the morning made sense that no one was around. John overslept again. Rubbing his tired face, John decides to take a shower. He feels filthy.

Chapter 3

March 7, 2015

John couldn’t decide if he should eat or not. He couldn’t find his appetite but knew he had to eat. The worst part was the judgy members of The Order. Many of The Order’s members don’t care for John. Many think he is incompetent, and yesterday’s events will only strengthen that belief. The thought of all those eyes on John made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

John could hear a lot of chatter in the cafeteria. However, all that chatter came to a halt when John walked in. Everyone is staring at the young man. John quickly got his breakfast and sat down alone, away from everyone. This was precisely what John thought would happen, making John lose his appetite. As a result, John only spins his spoon in the cereal.

Violet sat at another table with Marcus, Ben, and a few other members. It was hard not to notice John after signs of talking cut off all at once. Violet expected John to sit with his team. When he didn’t, she gave a questioning look at Ben. Violet assumes Ben and Marcus said something to John in the sleeping quarters. Ben understood the look and shook his head with his mouth full. Violet could hear whispers across the room and finally understood why John decided to isolate himself. That didn’t stop Violet from getting up from her table to come and sit across from John.

“Hey…” says John unenthusiastically.

“Hey yourself,” replied Violet. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Not hungry.”

“Why get it then? You’re just wasting food.”

“I guess it’s a force of habit,” says John with a shrug, finally letting go of the spoon.

After a brief silence, Violet finally said, “Why didn’t you listen, John?”

John shrugged and said, “I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t want them to get away.”

“John, you have to follow orders, even if you don’t necessarily agree with them,” said Violet, leaning back.

“I’m sorry…” muttered John, leaning on the table now. “I never wanted anyone to get hurt.”

“I know you didn’t, John,” sighed Violet. “That’s why I said to hold and wait, so no one would get hurt. Next time, listen to me.”

“That’s only if there’s a next time,” remarked John. “Who knows what my dad will do….”

Violet was never a fan of John’s father. His father was the one who forced John into The Order. “I’m sure everything will be alright. You’ll probably have to go back to basic training for a month or two with reduced pay.”

Before John could reply, he felt his phone buzz. John looked at the screen and saw a text from Reddrick. With a panicked heart and a turned stomach, John tells Violet, “My dad is coming.”

“When?”

“In about thirty minutes,” answered John, standing up and cleaning his spot. “I was also told to dress in full uniform if I wasn’t already. No excuses. I’ll see you later.”

While John was getting ready, he frequently played out scenario after scenario. As time passed by, the worse John felt. John hasn’t seen his father since joining The Order last year. His father pushed John to be an exorcist after his mother died and successfully made John the youngest exorcist in hundreds of years. The process of becoming an exorcist was not a pleasant one. John’s father is a rigorous religious man, and John doubts that the year away lessened his mood. When John finally finished getting dressed, he went to Reddrick’s office.

When John arrived, he knocked on Reddrick’s office door and stood in a very proper position. Any little detail would make his father angry. He stood there for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, Reddrick opens the door and invites John in. Sitting in Reddrick’s chair was a man with a narrow glare and a calm face. He looked like an older version of John. They both have the same dirty blonde hair; however, John’s father’s hair is much shorter. They shared the same blue eyes and a similar style of clothing. Both wore a solid black shirt with black combat pants and a black coat to top it off. Usually, bishops wear the typical cassock clothing one expects them to wear but Johnathon prefers to wear an exorcist uniform. John gulped at the sight of his father.

“I will give you the room, Father Johnathon,” said Reddrick.

There was a long moment of silence. Eventually, Johnathon places a folder down for John and slowly slides it to the other side of the desk. “Read it.”

John examines the file that his father slid to him. It was an exorcist report of the innocent last night at the subway. The information was of every dead civilian who died on the way to and at the hospital. He even sees the hospital reports for all the injured as well. John sees what his dad is doing, and it’s working. Each page is more challenging to turn than the last. It took some time, but John finally finished and gently placed the folder down.

“This,” said Johnathon, sliding the folder back towards himself. “This was your fault. Your mistakes killed these people.”

John went to speak, but his throat was parched. After a hard swallow, John attempted to mutter, “I’m sorry da….”

“You shall address me as Father Johnathon or Bishop Johnathon. Nothing more, nothing less. Am I understood, Deacon?”

“Yes, Fa... Bishop Johnathon,” said John. He was about to say Father Johnathon but thought calling him father would have upset him more.

Johnathon raised an eyebrow at the slip-up in speech but dismissed it. “Can you tell me why you made this decision?”

“I thought I could handle it. I was afraid that if I backed off, they would get lost in the train’s crowd.”

“Yet Deacon Violet, the team leader, told you not to pursue and wait for Deacon Marcus. You thought, as a seventeen-year-old boy who hasn’t been here a full year, would know more than the twenty-six-year-old leader who has been here for four years?”

“N-No, sir…” John dared not move. Any single unpleasant sight might make things worse.

“Do you also think that you are better as a solo act than with a team?”

“No, sir…”

“Well, your actions say otherwise,” said Johnathon, who has not moved once. John isn’t even sure if he blinked. “You do realize the punishments for not upholding the rules?”

“Yes, sir…” At this moment, John’s heart felt like it had stopped for a second.

“Death,” Johnathon said bluntly. “The maximum punishment I am tempted to issue towards you is death. ‘Do you swear secrecy to The Order?’ A part of our oath you partook in. You did not expose The Order, but last night does label you as a liability. It makes me worried that one day your recklessness might expose The Order.”

“Da... Bishop Johnathon, I am not a liability, and I will accept any punishment in the hopes it’ll make me worthy again in the eyes of not only The Order but our Lord himself,” said John stiffly. The Order teaches that angels left the world because humanity was too wicked. Many of The Order’s scholars speculate that the cursed caused all this, leaving us with only demons. John was always told that The Order was the only way to save humanity, that it was the only connection to God we had left. John wondered if God cared about The Order and if they were genuinely doing ‘God’s work.’ The punishment may help John with The Order, but does God care?

“Good,” says Johnathon as he stands up. “Your punishment is that you are to be promoted to a soloist exorcist.” John asked, “What?” but Johnathon ignored his son’s question. “You are to follow the soloist procedures to the tee. Am I clear?”

“Wait, wait, hold up,” said John, who was so shocked by the news that he forgot his composure. A sharp glare from his father straightened John back up again. “Sir, wouldn’t this punishment make my reckless behavior more of a risk to The Order?”

“It will be, but this is to teach you responsibility. To follow the procedure instead of relying on your teammates to bail you out of trouble every time.” Johnathon placed John’s gear back on the table after speaking. After this emotional rollercoaster, John is tempted to ask his dad to keep the equipment. However, John slowly reequips himself again. “You are to report to Reddrick immediately after I’m done briefing him, so wait out in the hallway until we finish. Oh, and before I forget. If any other mistakes land on my desk, I will punish you to the fullest extent. You may be my son, but I do not have favorites. Do better.”

John walked out of the door and saw Reddrick. The look on John’s face told Reddrick everything he needed to know. John sat outside the office and could even hear the two argue. It reminds him of his mom and dad before she died. John’s mother, Laura Widow, passed away from cancer when John was only nine. His parents would fight all the time. Their old home was small so that John could hear every word yet understood none of it. Looking back, it was probably due to his dad being an exorcist. It is impossible for John to remember what was said now.

After John’s mother passed, John’s father was in John’s life more than ever, but somehow, he felt more distant. John never knew if it was grief or how he always was. Johnathon trained his nine-year-old son to be an exorcist. This was, and still is, very much illegal. No member is allowed to bless someone under the age of twenty-one. John never understood why his dad broke these rules with how strict he was. The training to be blessed is not easy, and those years of training were brutal.

No one is naturally blessed or cursed. These abilities are passed down to humanity by angels and demons. Once you’re blessed or cursed, you can also pass these abilities to another human. However, demons and cursed cannot always control passing these traits. When a demon or cursed is lost in hunger, they sometimes infect others, but no one from The Order knows why. Scholars speculate that their powers are as out of control as their emotions.

The hunger is when a demon has an uncontrollable urge to consume human flesh. There seem to be many triggers for it, such as stress, anger, and lust, but the results are typically always the same. If you’re a demon or cursed, you’re going to fall to hunger, or at least that is what The Order teaches the exorcists.

The blessed have more control over whom they pass their powers on to. With The Order being so secret, not anybody can join. The fact that John’s dad blessed him was utterly blasphemous. People tell John he only joined because he killed a demon before joining. Many exorcists don’t get the chance to fight a demon, so killing one is a great honor.

After John killed the demon, his father instantly brought John to his boss, the archbishop. Once hearing what Johnathon had done, the archbishop locked John and his father in a holding cell until he got instructions on how to proceed. The pope himself was the only reason John could join The Order. He decided that John was a capable young man who deserved a chance to serve God. Johnathon was fortunate he wasn’t demoted from his rank as bishop, and to be honest, John doesn’t know why his father wasn’t punished more harshly.

‘Why am I thinking about this now…?’ thought John as he held his mother’s crucifix. It was gifted to John before she died. When John feels stressed or sad, he finds himself holding the crucifix.

The Order’s rankings, from lowest to highest, are as follows: laity, deacon, priest, bishop, archbishop, cardinal, and pope. This is just like the rankings of the Catholic Church; however, the Divine Order uses these rankings for more militaristic purposes.

The laity are the civilians who don’t work for the church but know of The Order, such as spouses, children, or parents. Deacons, which John is ranked as, are the lowest-ranked members who do the most grunt work. Priests, which Reddrick is ranked as, are in charge of a church and all the individuals within the church. Bishops, which Johnathon is ranked as, govern multiple churches in a region. Archbishops are in charge of different areas of a country. Cardinals are the pope’s advisers and counsel.

Last but not least is the pope. There are two different popes, one known by the public and one in secret. The Holy Father is the public figure known by the world, whereas The Divine Father is the leader of The Divine Order. When you’re blessed, you don’t age; your features depend on when you were blessed. For this reason, members are moved constantly when the average population notices the lack of aging features. The Divine Father is no different, but steps are taken to ensure his secret due to his high position. Sometimes, but not recently, The Holy Father will replace The Divine Father when it’s time to change leaders.

After a bit of time, the room fell silent. Then the door opened, and Johnathon walked away without a glance at John. With his head down, John rubbed his face, sighed, and walked into Reddrick’s office.

“John, please sit down,” said Reddrick in an exhausted voice. “I have been informed of your promotion, and I suppose congratulations are in order.”

John could hear the remorse in Reddrick’s voice. It’s much different from last night. With a shrug, John mumbles, “It is what it is, I guess.”

“I know you know what soloists are, but for liability reasons, I must explain anyway,” said Reddrick as John took his seat. “As a soloist exorcist, you are expected to perform just as you would with a full team of exorcists. You are solely responsible for paperwork, scheduling, and communication to the other branches outside the exorcists.”

“I already know all of this,” replied John with a slight attitude. He saw Reddrick give him a worrying look, making John feel bad for his snark. “I’m sorry, Reddrick. I just wish it wasn’t this.”

“I could always appeal to the Archbishop and see if he could help.”

“No, no, I can handle this. I mean, how hard can it be?”

“Just don’t be reckless, John,” warned Reddrick. “Being alone is not easy. Just remember that you have people you can call on.”

“Yes, sir,” said John.

Reddrick looks at John and sees he is exhausted. The poor kid must have been worrying about this all day and probably didn’t even sleep. John sinks into the chair and can’t even look Reddrick in his sympathetic hazel eyes. “Get some rest. Your father has asked for you to start right away. Tomorrow, you will be sent on patrol duty for the day.”

Without a word, John stood up and left the office.

Chapter 4

March 7, 2015

Violet was called to Reddrick’s office shortly after his meeting with John. Violet was expecting to be informed that John was punished somehow, but she didn’t expect anything like this. A promotion used as a punishment seemed like an abuse of Johnathon’s power. Unfortunately, Violet couldn’t fight this back, especially since John seemed to be going along with it.

“John isn’t ready to be on his own,” said Violet, crossing her arms. She was sitting in the chair across Reddrick’s desk.

Reddrick took his glasses off to clean them. “John is a capable exorcist on his own. He is an expert hunter and executor. I’m sure he’ll be fine by himself.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you mean, Violet, but my hands are tied,” said Reddrick, placing his clean glasses on his face. “Johnathon may not be The Order’s golden boy anymore, but he does have some pull with the archbishop. I’m afraid that appealing right now would be pointless.”

“What about last night?” asked Violet as she laid her leg on the other to make herself more comfortable. “Is the archbishop willing to allow John to be promoted after that disaster?”

“John has already killed a demon and passed all requirements to become a high exorcist,” said Reddrick. High exorcists are trained to be stronger and more capable than a typical exorcist. John isn’t allowed to train to be a high exorcist until he turns twenty-five due to orders from the Divine Father. It is a type of punishment since John joined The Order so young. “In The Order’s eyes, John is more than qualified to be a soloist exorcist.”

“Except for his age,” remarked Violet as she combed her hand through her brunette hair out of frustration.

“That, unfortunately, I have no say in as well,” said Reddrick. He pitied John even though Reddrick doesn’t know what training Johnathon did for his son, and John won’t tell. This deeply bothered Reddrick since John is too powerful to suggest the training was pleasant. “All I can say is that if he needs help, we try to support him. I warned you when I first assigned John to your team that John would come with issues.”

Remembering what Reddrick said, Violet summarized, “Political and emotional issues.” Violet took a sigh. “I guess I’ll tell the others that John isn’t on our team anymore.”

“Yes you should,” said Reddrick. “Be careful during your assignment today. There were three suspects spotted near the subway when we got the call yesterday. So investigate and find the third.”

That said, Violet left the office to find Ben and Marcus. While walking through the halls, she can hear the rumors of John becoming a soloist. Word got around faster than she thought. On her way, Violet is stopped by a man named Oliver Thorn. He is a veteran of the Marines with tattoos on his arm to show his loyalty to the core. Oliver is a short but stocky man, and to make matters worse Oliver is this church’s only high exorcist. Based on their coats, you can tell an ordinary exorcist from a high exorcist. A typical exorcist wears a solid black coat, while a high exorcist wears a black coat with white trim. The white is meant to symbolize that they are closer to God.

The two different classifications of demonic forces are the cursed and demons. The cursed are of course humans that are cursed with the powers of demons. They tend to be weaker with some exceptions. It is possible for a cursed to be as strong as a full blooded demon but it is not as common. As for demons, they tend to be much stronger. The Divine Order’s scholars are unsure why this power difference is prevalent. High exorcists are warriors that are trained to exceed the powers of a normal exorcist to combat the stronger demonic forces that plague the Earth. However, Oliver isn’t humble about this fact. He actively disapproves of Reddrick being in charge because Reddrick is not a high exorcist. As he walked towards Violet, she knew precisely what Oliver would say as if she could read his mind.

“Just got done being lectured over last night?” asked Oliver, crossing his arms as the light shone off his bald head.

“None of your business, so if you don’t mind,” responds Violet as she tries to move past him, but Oliver blocks her.

“Come on, everyone is saying that John is running solo,” said Oliver. Oliver, like everyone else, never approved of John due to his age.

“I don’t see how this concerns you,” says Violet, now crossing her arms at him. High exorcist or not, she doesn’t like these kinds of games.

“He’s the youngest exorcist in, like, hundreds of years. Of course, it concerns me. It concerns all of us.”

“No, it doesn’t. You’re just shoving your nose into things because you like to pretend to be a leader, so you try to get as much information as possible to stay up to date or ahead of Reddrick.”

Visibly upset at this remark, Oliver responds, “Violet, I’m the only high exorcist at this church. That means I need information about what goes on in the church, or did you forget that we are entitled to more information?”

“Information about demonic forces, not the well-being of my team. That honor belongs to a priest, not a deacon.”

With that being said, Violet walks past Oliver. As she leaves, she hears Oliver mutter, “Stupid woman, shouldn’t even be here.” Her cheeks flush red with anger, but she stays composed. It is not worth it.

Violet found Ben and Marcus upstairs in the actual church. They were only talking to kill time as they waited for Violet. Once Ben saw Violet walking up he pointed her out for Marcus.

“What’s up, Violet?” asked Ben.

“I was informed a few moments ago that John is no longer a part of our team,” Violet said calmly and collectively, as a leader should be. Ben and Marcus look genuinely surprised and even look at each other to verify if they heard Violet correctly. “As of right now, he is going to be a soloist.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” interrupted Ben. “A soloist? The brat isn’t ready for that. Shoot, Marcus isn’t even ready, and they both joined the same year.”

“Actually, I was here a year longer,” corrected Marcus.

“Actually, nobody cares,” dismissed Ben, primarily focusing on Violet. “My point is that me and you deserve that kind of honor. Why does he get to run solo?”

“Benjamin, it’s a punishment,” answered Violet.

“Ben,” corrected Ben. “How is this a punishment?”

“To teach him more responsibility.”

“Screw that,” said Ben. “Everyone knows being a soloist is a big honor. Why not just send him to a stricter unit? No, it’s daddy giving his underaged son honors he doesn’t deserve.”

“I can not answer your questions, Benjamin,” sighed Violet. “Talk to Reddrick if this bothers you so much.”

“You know what? I will,” replied Ben. Walking to the underground entrance, he realized she had again called him by his full name. He yelled out before leaving, “Damnit, Violet. It’s Ben!”

Marcus snickers and then sits down. “Can’t believe John got promoted like that. He should have been locked up after last night.”

Violet understands where Marcus is coming from, saying, “He made a bad call. He deserves punishment, but I’m not sure he should be locked up.”

“What do you mean?” asks Marcus.

“John isn’t responsible for the cursed shooting into a crowd. Yes, he agitated it, but he couldn’t have known that would happen. He should have his pay cut and sent to basic training, not be promoted.”

“And now he’s promoted when he can’t even wake up on time,” replies Marcus quietly. “I’m sure Father Johnathon knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t just do this for a punishment, that seems unlikely…”

Violet wanted to say something to that, but what could she say? In some way, Marcus is right to feel this way. So Violet and Marcus sat in silence until Ben returned, seemingly as grumpy as he was when he left. With no words said, they hopped into their car and drove off. They were heading to the police headquarters. There are members of The Order everywhere in nearly every government. This connection is beneficial for keeping people in the dark about demonic forces. With how bad things were yesterday, they needed to check with the police to see if there were any witnesses or if there was any video evidence.

Violet says as they get closer to the station, “Marcus, text Linch. Tell him to give me whatever information he has of the two cursed last night.”

“Gotcha.”

When the car pulls up, they instantly get eyeballed. The stares don’t dissipate when they walk into the building. Violet goes to the secretary’s desk, shows an ID, and then asks to see the police chief. Many officers are left in the dark and think The Order is the FBI or something else. Some federal hotshots taking their jobs. Only select officers know the truth to help The Order properly. Violet, Ben, and Marcus finally reach the police chief’s office, and he doesn’t look too pleased when they open the door.

“Chief Franklin, how’s your morning today?” asked Violet casually.

“I dropped my coffee trying to get into the car, and I woke up to a massacre in the subway,” answered Chief Franklin, putting down his pencil to give them his full attention. “How do you think I’m doing?”

“Well, if you have that much snark, it must mean you’re doing just fine,” replied Ben, walking toward the chair to sit.

“Please tell me how a secret organization like you, who keep assassin-like tabs on me, can let a subway turn into a firing range?” asked Franklin tiredly.

“One of our members made a bad call,” answered Violet. “That’s all you need to know.”

“At least I learned something this time,” commented Franklin, dissatisfied with the lack of two-way conversation. He always has to give information while he’s always in the dark. “So here’s the deal: witnesses say two guys just opened fire randomly. One looked like a druggie. No one suspects you or those.. things at all. Bodies were recovered as soon as you informed us. All is good for you guys.”

“You think this is good for us?” asked Marcus, hearing the mocking tone in Franklin’s voice.

“You’re not the ones who have to call their families, kid,” replied Franklin, leaning back in his chair. “Speaking of calls, things would be faster and easier if you called me instead.”

“What, and miss your lovely face?” Ben sarcastically asked. “Face-to-face interactions are our speed anyways.”

The Order was constantly frustrating to work with. After working with them for many years, Franklin still has nearly no information on The Order. A name, a few faces, and the beasts that run out in the world. It’s enough to drive anyone mad. “Is that all, or are we done here?”

“Yes, thank you very much,” said Violet. That said, they all get up and walk back to their car. “Marcus, did you text Linch?”

“Yes, he will meet us in the usual spot,” said Marcus, who had just got the text back. During the drive to the usual spot, a garage about three miles out, Marcus prays for the victims of the shooting. Unsaid guilt begins to leak into the prayer, apologies for not being fast enough to stop John. All Marcus can hope for is that they find peace.

Once they reached the garage, they parked on the fourth floor with their contact nowhere in sight. During the wait, Marcus turned on the radio, and Ben grumbled that he needed a cigarette. After four minutes, a police car pulled up next to them. Out came an average-looking man. Well-combed brown hair, clean shaved, someone you’d never look twice at. A perfect agent.

Violet gets out of the car and walks around to greet the man. “Good morning, or should I say afternoon, Officer Linch.”

“And a fine afternoon to you as well, Miss Violet,” says Linch with a smile. “Here’s the profile on the two cursed, Cole and Dave. I also double-checked if anything of The Order was leaked. We’re clear.”

“Thanks,” said Violet as she looked through the profile. “Franklin is too irritable today.”

“When isn’t he?” asked Linch, leaning on his car’s hood. “Probably his ex-wife or something. Too bad your pretty face didn’t cheer him up.”

“Charming,” mocked Violet. “Are any of the victims infected?”

“Talking to our agents in the hospital, they said no,” said Linch, watching Violet read the paperwork. He glances at the car and sees Ben trying to sleep. Marcus is lying down in the back seat. “Where’s the blonde one?”

“You mean John?” asked Violet as she read. “He’s a soloist now.”

“No kidding? Never expected it.”

“Well, it happened,” commented Violet, wanting Linch to stop talking. Once she memorizes everything, Violet returns the profiles to Linch and then returns to her car. “I need to make sure their families aren’t connected to this.”

“Leaving so soon?” asked Linch in a flirty tone. “I was hoping we could work together.”

“Got enough people for that,” replied Violet as she entered the car and left Linch smiling.

‘She wants me,’ thought Linch as he drove off.

Chapter 5

March 7, 2015

“Were the police here first?” asked Ben as he closed the car door.

“Most likely, yes,” responded Violet, walking toward Cole’s home. It is a one-story house. The door’s red color is faded and worn. The lawn is a bit overgrown, and the window blinds look a bit worn as well. The neighborhood wasn’t well known for its cleanliness. It’s for those with low incomes.

Before this, they were at Dave’s apartment complex. They found nothing to lead them to their mystery third target. Not even the neighbors knew anything useful. This was their last stop to look for any clues.

“I hate coming to places like these,” grunted Ben.

Marcus knocked on the door but nobody answered. Ben shrugged and looked at the car parked in the driveway. Somebody had to be home. Marcus knocked again, but there was still no answer. Ben pushed Marcus out of the way and knocked louder, but again no one came answering. Violet pushed the two boys out of the way to ring the doorbell, but the sound of the doorknob aggressively turning caused her to stop.

The door swung open to show a short older lady with frizzy gray hair. In her left hand, she is firmly clenching a small blanket. Her eyes are red and puffy with wet cheeks, and she does not look happy to see them here at all. She yells out, “Goddammit, I heard you the first time! Can’t an old lady take her time in the bathroom?! Now, what do you all want?!”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Porter, but we are here in regards to your son, Cole Porter,” said Violet.

“The cops already came here and asked me their questions,” said Mrs. Porter angrily, as if their presence insulted her very being. “I told them I knew nothing. I don’t know why he would do that, so please leave.”

She tries to close the door, but Ben grabs it and stops her. “Ma’am, this is important. We are the FBI.”

Ben shows a badge, and the others follow the lie and show theirs. Mrs. Porter examines it closely and says, “I don’t care. Unless you have a warrant, I don’t want to talk to any more cops.”

Ben was about to speak, but Violet placed herself between the two. Violet’s hand glows bluish, and she waves it in front of Mrs. Porter’s face. Mrs. Porter is memorized by the color; her eyes race after the glow. As Violet’s hand lowers and the light dims, she says, “I don’t think we need a warrant. Surely, we can come inside for a few questions.”

This power was hypnosis, one of the exorcists’ most excellent tools. They used it to either push people in the right direction or force them to forget things. Trying to hypnotize anyone, blessed or cursed, is extremely difficult, but normal humans and animals are easy to influence.

As the light dissipated, Mrs. Porter felt discombobulated. Her mind feels scattered and light. The only sense of direction was Violet’s voice. For the life of Mrs. Porter, she can’t think of a reason why they shouldn’t come inside her house. Mrs. Porter rubbed her eyes and said, “Y-Yeah sure… You can come inside.”

The inside was worse than the outside. The front door led into the living room space, and an odd odor made Marcus almost gag. The carpet was old and seemed not to have been vacuumed for a long time. Trash was scattered everywhere. Even an old pizza was seen on the dining room table. Violet saw several bugs flying around and dead roaches in the corner. Mrs. Porter sat down on her couch. Marcus and Violet opted to stand as Ben sat comfortably in the chair across from Mrs. Porter. Ben was unphased by Mrs. Porter’s mess since it reminded him of home.

“Ask your questions,” said Mrs. Porter, who’s regaining her senses and attitude.

“Did Cole spend time with anyone other than Dave?” asked Violet, trying hard not to focus on the house’s condition.

“Cole spent time with a lot of people,” snapped Mrs. Porter. “I don’t ask who.”

“Did any of them spend time here?” asked Violet.

Mrs. Porter looked left, then right, and replied with a chuckle. “Have you seen this house? Hell no. Cole would either get picked up by Dave or walk.”

“Can we see his room?” asked Ben.

“Why?” asked Mrs. Porter.

“We know that Cole and Dave were with a third person, and we need to find out who this person is,” replied Violet, who noticed a slight change in Mrs. Porter’s expression. Violet wasn’t sure, but Mrs. Porter almost seemed afraid at the mention of a third person.

“Whatever,” grumbled Mrs. Porter.

Mrs. Porter led them to Cole’s room. After smelling an alarming odor, Violet decided to stay in the living room before Marcus could. The room looked like a teenager’s, even though Cole was in his mid-twenties. There were video game posters and a few naked ladies all over the walls. He had a mini television with a game console attached with trash covering every inch of the floor. Marcus can’t believe any sane human would live in a pigsty like this.

Mrs. Porter walks away, making Ben suspicious of her. Violet becomes suspicious as well and watches as Mrs. Porter enters the room down the hall. Violet follows Mrs. Porter, stopping at Cole’s bedroom door to let Ben know she is watching. Across Cole’s bedroom is another door; opening it shows a bathroom. The door next to that is a closet. The only other door in this house is the one Mrs. Porter went into, leading Violet to believe that Mrs. Porter is in her bedroom.

“How can you stand the smell?” gagged Marcus.

“I’ve smelt worse,” says Ben, going through the trash. “Watch out for stiff socks, probably where the smell is coming from.”

Marcus almost puked at the idea. Nevertheless, they both dug through the trash. Violet rested her ear on Mrs. Porter’s bedroom door. She could hear crying. Giving respect, Violet goes back to the boys. Cole’s bedroom scent smacks her in the face again, making her cough.

“Found any information on possible friends?” coughed out Violet.

“Nothing,” sighed Ben as he kicked up some trash. “Maybe if he wasn’t a slob, we’d get somewhere.”

Marcus finds a sock and immediately gets up and out of the bedroom. Ben sees the sock and snickers. Violet rolls her eyes. The bedroom Mrs. Porter was in sounded like it opened, so Violet walked out into the hallway to put eyes on her. The fear that Violet thinks she saw on Mrs. Porter’s face is worse now. Violet stops Mrs. Porter from walking any further; something doesn’t feel right.

“Are you ok, Mrs. Porter?” asked Violet.

“Y-Yes…” mutters Mrs. Porter.

Violet now notices Mrs. Porter’s arm behind her back. “Mrs. Porter, can you show me what you’re hiding?”

Ben hides next to the bedroom door with his gun drawn. From his angle, he can see Marcus doing the same at the end of the hallway. Neither wanted to rush out. They don’t know if there is a gun or not. If they scare her, she might open fire and become a danger to everyone.

“D-Did you people k-kill my boy?” Mrs. Porter nervously asks as she backs up.

Violet moves forward at the same pace. “Mrs. Porter wha…” A gun swinging out cuts Violet’s sentence off. Mrs. Porter had the small blanket clenched tightly to her chest with tears running down her face.

“I asked you a question!” yelled Mrs. Porter. Violet looks into Mrs. Porter’s eyes. There was nothing but fear. How could she know that they killed her son?

“You know what Cole was, don’t you?” asked Violet.

“He was my son!” shouted Mrs. Porter, her body clenched as she screamed. “He wasn’t a freak, he needed help! Your kind only knows how to kill! I know he was shot, and you are to blame! Admit it!”

“We killed your son because he killed and ate someone else,” Violet replied calmly. “We stop demonic forces, it’s to protect others from being eaten.”

“Where were you when he was infected then?” asks Mrs. Porter in a trembling voice. “Why should he suffer because of your screw-up?”

“Mrs. Porter, we can’t save everyone,” Violet replied as she inch closer to grab the gun. “I hate it when people become cursed, and it’s unfair when it’s someone you love. But I know you knew he was dangerous.”

Noticing Violet was closer, Mrs. Porter moved backwards and fired the gun. The bullet did not hit Violet, it only zoomed past her. “T-That was a warning! Cole, my baby Cole wasn’t dangerous! Not even Dave, but you are. Now leave my home, all three of you’s!”

“We can’t do that,” says Violet. “Please do the right thing and drop the gun. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Mrs. Porter was in despair. She lost everything and lives in a terrible house. Now, her son’s killers stand before her; this is a chance that Mrs. Porter can’t pass up even if it kills her. Her mind was now made up, and Mrs. Porter shot at Violet. Violet rushed forward, using her enhanced reflexes to dodge the bullets fired. Violet instinctively grabbed the gun and then froze it with her ice powers. Mrs. Porter’s hands were now partially covered by the ice, frozen to the firearm. The cold was so painful it forced Mrs. Porter cried out. Ben gave Marcus a signal to move out now that it was safe, then forced Mrs. Porter to the living room.

“You’re a brute!” complained Mrs. Porter as she was forced on the couch. Marcus began to use his fire power to melt the ice. Violet held Mrs. Porter down, and Ben went to the kitchen. “Now you’re going to kill me just like…” Violet grabbed a shirt from the couch and covered Mrs. Porter’s mouth. Gunshots are noisy enough; they don’t need to draw in any more attention.

Marcus finally melted enough ice to remove the gun. Mrs. Porter went to clench her fist, but there was only pain. Marcus said unsympathetically, “Don’t worry, we’ll heal you,”

Mrs. Porter wanted to cuss at Marcus, but a covered mouth prevented her from doing so. Noise came from the kitchen; water from the faucet. Right after the water stopped, a bluish light shined from the kitchen. Ben walked out of the kitchen holding a glass of water. Mrs. Porter couldn’t believe her eyes; the water was glowing blue.

“Drink,” Ben commanded. Violet removed the shirt covering Mrs. Porter’s mouth as Ben attempted to help her drink by tipping the cup for her. Mrs. Porter turned her head to the side in defiance. “If we wanted you dead, we would have already killed you. It’s not poisoned, it’ll heal you so don’t waste my time.”

Mrs. Porter figured that she was ready to die a moment ago, and she was already in a lot of pain. Drinking poison doesn’t seem that bad right now. With an aggressive huff, she started drinking the glowing blue water. It was deliciously sweet; Mrs. Porter couldn’t get enough. When Ben pulled the cup away, Mrs. Porter’s mouth followed a bit, wanting more. True to Marcus’s words, her pain started to go away.

Marcus took Mrs. Porter’s phone and plugged in a device to unlock it. Mrs. Porter sat there in awe, feeling her hands. She was too busy to notice her phone was taken. The device beeped to signal that the phone could be opened. When Marcus opened the phone, he saw that she had whipped it. Figuring she must have reset the phone during her time in the bedroom, Marcus showed Violet the phone. Violet sighs and wonders why this is harder than necessary.

Violet’s hand glows bluish again and says while using hypnotism, “Please be honest, why did you erase your data?”

The strange fuzziness came back, and feeling compelled to be as honest as possible, Mrs. Porter says, “Jaxon. He’s the third person you’ve been asking about. He told me that he saw you murder Cole and Dave, watched you from the shadows…”

“You texted him when you went to the bedroom?” asked Ben.

“No…” whimpers Mrs. Porter. “He texted me… He’s here watching. Gave me instructions to follow…”

Ben instantly rushed outside to look around for anyone. Nothing, just civilians quickly closing their blinds and the sound of sirens in the distance. Unsatisfied, he waves Marcus over, and they circle the house in different directions. They met in the middle and saw nothing. Marcus took a quick look around to make sure no one was looking. He then used another power exorcists could use, and he used his flight powers to float up to see if anyone was on the roof. Still no luck. Jaxon must be long gone.

During the boy’s walk, Violet asked, “Why help Jaxon if you’re afraid of him?”

“He told me you’d kill me for hiding a demonic human,” admitted Mrs. Porter. Some cursed sympathizers will call them demonic humans to make them feel more human. Many exorcists hate this term. “Told me you’d torture me, and if I rat him out he’d punish me… He’s terrifying… So quick to temper and brutal. Dave and Cole would go to The Gutsy Bar with Jaxon often… That’s all I know…”

“What’s his beast form?” asked Violet. Ben calls out to Violet so she won’t shoot him when he walks through the front door.

“I don’t know, but his presence is terrifying… Please just kill me.” begged Mrs. Porter. “He’ll just kill me anyway…”

Ben whispers in Violet’s ear that the police are on their way, likely due to gunshots and screaming. Marcus is outside calling Reddrick to inform him of their current situation. Once Ben finished talking, Violet replied to Mrs. Porter. “No we won’t kill you but we will bring you in to force you to forget about the cursed and what you saw.”

“That won’t be enough, please…” Mrs. Porter begged again. The sound of desperation made Ben feel uncomfortable. Violet didn’t want Mrs. Porter to freak out when the police arrived and spilled the beans. To prevent this, Violet uses her hypnosis to get Mrs. Porter to sleep.

“You good Ben?” asked Violet.

“Peachy,” replied Ben, picking up Mrs. Porter. Without another word, he places her in the car with Marcus’s assistance. They buckle her up and handcuff her hands and legs just in case she wakes up.

The three exorcists had to stay and wait for the cops to arrive. They couldn’t just leave the house empty after a shooting. When the police finally arrived, Violet went to explain the situation, or at least lie about it. Ben and Marcus stood outside their car, waiting for her to finish.

“So she begged to die?” asked Marcus.

“Yeah,” confirmed Ben. “Pretty messed up if you ask me.”

“I think things would be easier if we killed her,” Marcus admits coldly.

“What about second chances?”

“In my opinion, Mrs. Porter blew through hers when she shot at Violet.”

“I don’t like Violet being shot at, too,” sighs Ben, trying to find the right words to describe how he feels. “But she was being forced into this. Jaxon terrified her.”

“I mean, you’re right, but could God even forgive her?” asked Marcus. “We may force Mrs. Porter to forget, but her heart is still stained with sin… She can’t even confess her sins before we wipe her memory. I think it’s easier to kill demonic sympathizers. I mean, if Mrs. Porter told anyone that her son was cursed, we could have prevented yesterday, and no one would have died. To save lives, we have to do whatever it takes, y’know?”

Many exorcists feel the same way Marcus does. Death to all those who support any demonic forces, no matter how old or young. Ben believes in the cause but some things The Order does bother him. Sure, he can be rough and easily aggravated, but deep down, Ben joined The Order to save human lives. Feeling obligated to answer, Ben lied, saying, “Yeah, man, whatever it takes.”

Chapter 6

March 8, 2015

An exorcist’s greatest tool is faith. John’s father often told him this when he was training. Those lessons and memories are as strong as the darkness surrounding John in this forest. The moon is out, and nothing but trees are in sight. John creeps through, pushing the thick branches out of his way. The further he goes, the tighter the path becomes. The path, once known to John, is now a twisted confusion. Every tree looks the same. No way feels right, yet it’s precisely where he needs to go. A sudden rush of anxiety fills up in John’s chest; he’s being chased by something growling and snarling, inching closer and closer. No sound of branches being pushed, as if the forest itself is coming to life. John reaches for his sword, but his sword and gun are missing. Panic sets in, it’s hard to breathe, and there’s nowhere to run. He tries to scale a tree, but John’s limbs are slow. John can feel in his heart that he can go faster, but John moves as fast as he can muster. A branch under John’s foot snaps, causing John to fall to the ground. He looks up to see the golden eyes of a demon, watching John’s every movement. Now that John was on the floor, the creature lunged to bite his throat. The scare of death shook John awake in the male’s sleep quarters under the church. It was all just a dream.

John runs his hand through his messy, wet hair; he can still feel the pain and horror from his vivid dream. These feelings slowly fade, but the uneasiness remains. Checking the time, it was a quarter past three in the morning. No one was awake yet. Not wanting to sleep, John showered and went to get breakfast.

Some mornings are like this, but it’s not exclusive to John. He notices many others wake up at awful hours of the day. No one talks about it to anyone else other than Reddrick. John, however, doesn’t like talking about it. These are only dreams, no matter how accurate the memory attached is.

John sat on a bench outside Reddrick’s office door, dazing in and out of sleep. He almost didn’t notice Reddrick walking up. John immediately stood up, mainly to wake himself up, as Reddrick walked to his door and went to unlock it.

“Rough night?” asked Reddrick, seeing the dreariness in John. He opens the door and gestures to John to go in first.

“Not really,” lies John. Reddrick could sense the lie but let it slide.

“Why are you at my office, John?” asked Reddrick as he sat at his desk.

“I’m on patrol duty today, so I needed car keys, but I have none since Ben and Violet only drove,” explained John.

“You don’t know where the key box is?”

“We have a key box?” responded John in genuine shock. For all the time he’s been here, he has never heard or seen it.

“You’ve been here almost a year, John,” sighed Reddrick. “You weren’t paying attention, were you?”

“Well, they always had keys, so I didn’t think to ask,” John replied in slight embarrassment. “I kind of figured you were the one who gave keys out.”

Once Reddrick told John where to go, John immediately went on his way. The box was in the gear room. The man in charge of the gear was Nathan. An older gentleman who has many stories for those who’d listen. He quit being an exorcist after he lost his leg. Exorcists don’t age once they gain the blessing. If you’re underage, you age to your prime, but anything over, you’re stuck like that. There is a rule within The Order: if you reach one hundred years old, you must die. The exception to this rule is if you’re the Divine Father or the Divine Father feels you must live. The Order believes pure immortality is unnatural, so they have these rules to keep blessed humans as pure as possible. John never truly understood how death keeps people pure. Nathan, however, is seventy-eight and fully accepts his fate.

Nathan’s job position is a transporter. This is another branch within The Order. Unlike exorcists who fight demonic forces, transporters mainly work with supplies. Food, weapons, tools, and even maintenance. They also distribute these items as gear room attendants or food servers. Another less glorious but equally important duty they possess is they act as The Order’s custodians. Other branches within The Order can be ordered to help transporters in their duties, mainly out of punishment or if there is nothing else to do. Even though John and Nathan are both deacons, Nathan is in charge of the gear room at St. Michael’s Church because he is the most organized transporter. Nathan mainly works behind the desk in the gear room and directs his people on what to do. This brings up the rumor that Nathan is lazy, but John thinks he has earned the right to be lazy for a one-legged seventy-eight-year-old man.

“Good morning, Nathan,” greeted John. Nathan sat in a comfy chair behind a gated desk, with many weapons and ammo behind him. There were pistols to assault rifles, retractable swords to actual swords. The heavier weapons or explosives are only used in extreme situations, so average field units are only outfitted with light and easily concealable weapons.

“Mornin,” Nathan greeted back. “Need a new gun cause I doubt you’d give up the sword. Too much like your father.”

“I was actually looking to get a set of car keys to go patrolling,” said John.

“I see,” said Nathan, scratching his gray beard. He walks over to unlock a box. John could hear the clanging of keys. It made John wonder how many cars this church has. Nathan finally pulls out a set of keys and tosses it to John. “This’ll look nice on ya, an all black car.”

“Aren’t all the cars black?” asked John, who’s only seen exorcists drive black vehicles.

“Don’t be stupid,” said Nathan, who sat down with a gleeful grunt. “There are more colors than black. I mean, it’s true we primarily drive black, but we have other colors here. Oliver actually drives a green car.”

“Green?”

“He likes green,” shrugged Nathan. “Do you pay attention, boy?”

“I seem to be getting that a lot today,” says John, pocketing the keys. As he tries to leave, John says, “Thank you, Nathan.”

“Ah-bababa! Sign it out!” shouted Nathan as he jumped off his chair. Nathan points at the paper filer on the desk. John grabs the same basic gear sheet he had to fill out when he first checked out his current gear and shows Nathan the sheet to verify that it’s what he needs to fill out. Once Nathan confirmed that it was the correct gear sheet, John filled it out and gave it to Nathan. When John tried to leave again, Nathan sighed, “Do you even know where it is?”

“I just figured I’d just press the emergency button to find it…” said John, who wasn’t thinking that far ahead but wanted to answer as if he did.

Nathan shook his head at the young man. “Must be nice to be young. It’s parked in the parking garage a few blocks from here. Don’t crash the car.”

“Thank you and bye-bye,” said John, who’s glad to finally leave. As John was leaving, he bumped into Oliver. John quickly backs off to see Oliver and another man behind the high exorcist. “Sorry, Oliver didn’t know you were coming.”

“Now you do,” said Oliver, shoving John to the side.

Oliver greeted Nathan as the other man behind Oliver walked up to John. “Don’t let Oliver scare you. He had to work his way up like all of us.”

“Thank you, Tristen,” said John. Tristen is a middle-aged man but has the wisdom to rival Reddrick. He is the next man in line to be the priest if Reddrick leaves the position. Tristen had long black hair with gray streaks, generally in a ponytail, and a worthy beard to match. John sometimes thinks Tristen looks like a wizard. “What color car do you drive?”

“Black?” Tristen replied in a confused voice. “Why?”

“No reason, see you later!” says John, leaving Tristen confused.

John left the church to start his patrol run. Most times, the exorcists will work with the police if a murder is suspected to have demonic elements. Emergency number phone calls are monitored with keywords that, if triggered, will notify the exorcist. The internet, cell phones, and nearly every street camera are monitored. It amazes John that the exorcist has this much power, yet the general populace has no idea.

John has never been in the communal garage because Violet and Ben usually park out front of the church, thanks to a parking pass. ‘So, a mini adventure to start off my first day being all alone,’ John thought positively, trying to make this depressing day seem a bit happier.

As he walked up to the garage, John saw it was near the mall. The mall wasn’t open yet because it was still very early. John always wondered what it would be like to shop in the mall with teenagers like him or what it would be like to have friends his age. John’s father always kept John away from other kids due to John’s powers. The last thing that Johnathon wanted was for John to harm another kid accidentally. Focusing on the garage now, John walked in and started pressing the horn button. He heard the horn blare near the entrance on the first floor. Convenient. Sadly, the vehicle was an old hand-me-down car. John looked around, hoping he was timing his alarm with another vehicle; it wasn’t the case.

John noticed signs on the wall that said, ‘Special Parking Only.’ Accepting defeat, John got into his car. There was a terrible scent coming from the vehicle. The floor had dirt all over it. The steering wheel was peeling, and when John turned the car on, he could see the gas tank was nearly empty, if not already. ‘This is a piece of junk!’ thought John angrily. He sat back and tapped his finger on the steering wheel, trying to think. His first thought was to turn this back into Nathan, but now he’ll say, “Oh, you should have paid attention, boy.” John can’t complain to Reddrick because if anyone finds out, they will think he is a pampered brat. ‘Well, if I can’t get a new one, I’ll just spend the entire day fixing up this car.’

John’s first concern was the gas. As he tried to back up, the car stopped moving. The battery died. John let out a loud groan and slammed his head on the steering wheel. That’s it, he called Reddrick. Screw if people thought poorly of John, this is worse.

“Hello, John,” greeted Reddrick. John could hear the news play in the background.

“Reddrick, the car I got was a piece of junk,” stated John. “I got it without any gas, the battery died on me, and it is dirty as heck in here.”

“Did you ask to inspect the car before you jumped in it?” asked Reddrick in an irritated, condescending voice.

“I can do that?” asked John in response.

“Yes, you can,” sighed Reddrick as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You check it out like any other gear, John. It is good practice to always inspect your gear before checking it out.”

“If I check it into Nathan, will you back me if he says no?” asked John in a hopeful tone.

“No, John,” replied Reddrick. “Your actions have consequences. You should have inspected it beforehand. I would like you to keep up your gear before you do your job. So fix the car up and then go on patrol.”

“I… I don’t know how to change a battery…” admitted John.

“John, I’m busy. I can’t help you,” said Reddrick. “Look it up online. Now, I have to get ready for an afternoon meeting with the rest of the priests in the city. Goodbye.”

After the hang-up, John sank into his chair. He went online to find out where he could buy a battery. With much-needed determination, John stepped out of the vehicle.

Chapter 7

March 8, 2015

After the phone meeting with the other priests in Portsville City, Reddrick can now focus on Nathan. Something about this car felt fishy to him, and Reddrick wanted to see if John was a victim. Reaching the gear room, Reddrick caught Nathan filing his paperwork for the day. Hearing the door open, Nathan looked up and greeted his superior.

“Good morning, Father Reddrick,” greeted Nathan.

“Good morning, Deacon Nathan,” Reddrick greeted back. “I sent John here a few hours ago to check out a car. How did that go?”

“The boy is brainless,” replied Nathan in a grumpy tone. “He didn’t even realize that there were other colored cars we use. How sheltered was he?”

“I don’t think it’s sheltering. I think it’s a mixture of his age showing and lack of attention,” said Reddrick.

“Either way, the boy doesn’t think too much on his own,” Nathan said while scratching his gray beard.

“He is capable as an exorcist; however, he just needs to learn the processes better,” defended Reddrick. “His combative skills are exceptional for a first-year regardless of knowledge. He’ll do better as he moves forward, I assure you.”

“Maybe.” Nathan’s tone made Reddrick realize that his words fell upon deaf ears. “I’m just saying back in my day, if we didn’t follow the process, there was punishment. We learned and prospered way better than these days. Technology softens us too much. I swear everyone these days will die without a computer.”

“Let’s focus on now rather than in the past or future, Deacon Nathan,” said Reddrick, uninterested in Nathan’s rant. “I wanted to ask what car you gave John.”

“Ummm,” said Nathan, looking through a binder labeled ‘Cars.’ Once he found the paper he was looking for, he handed it to Reddrick.

After examining it thoroughly, Reddrick asked, “Did you know the car’s battery is dead and is nearly out of gas?”

“I mean a bit,” admitted Nathan. “I knew the battery was dying, but not that bad. The gas has enough to get to the closest gas station.”

“Why give it to him then?”

“Because he wasn’t paying attention,” Nathan replied, feeling justified in his decision. “The boy is soft and needs a push. It’s harmless. He should have inspected it beforehand. I bet he will now.”

Reddrick is tempted to punish Nathan, but in all reality, it would be petty. Nathan was in the wrong, but John should have paid attention. This doesn’t excuse Nathan for setting him up to fail in Reddrick’s eyes, yet there isn’t much he can do about it now. He can’t baby John anymore, especially after hearing that John didn’t know about multiple car colors in The Order. “Well, next time, inform me about this before you set John up for failure. I need all my men at full capability.”

“Sure, sure,” said Nathan. He can tell that John called Reddrick for help and lost some respect for the kid. Nathan was hoping John would do it all by himself and assumed Reddrick helped John fix the car.

“Now I must be on my way,” said Reddrick, heading for the door. “Good day.”

“Good day.”

Chapter 8

March 8, 2015

It was a disaster! John didn’t know what type of battery he needed, so he had to walk back to the parking garage to check the kind of car John had. He discovered he needed tools to get the battery out of its resting place once John checked inside the car’s hood. Once he finally replaced the battery and started the car, John was reminded that he was nearly out of gas. There was a debate in John’s mind about risking the drive to the gas station, wondering if he had enough gas to get there. After the debate, John felt that just walking to the gas station to bring the gas to the car was smarter. Once John finally filled the car’s gas tank, John started the car and noticed an alert on the dashboard that told him that his tire pressure was low.

‘Why not?’ thought John. ‘What else could go wrong? Is the engine going to explode?’

Thank goodness for the internet. Without the information on it, John would have been stuck in the parking garage all day. It didn’t take much time for John to learn how to refill the tire pressure. Now armed with knowledge, John drove to the closest store to buy a tire pump. While he was at the store, John decided to buy a car vacuum and a spray to make the car smell nice. He even grabbed a car freshener that hung in the car. Its design was an alien head, and the scent was ‘Out of this World.’

Eventually, John’s car was able to run properly and was thoroughly cleaned out. John was immensely tired but felt extremely satisfied with the work he accomplished. John looked at the time and saw it was four past noon. This was an all-day thing. At least nobody called John to inform him that something happened. With a grumbling stomach, John decided to grab a bite to eat.

John is sitting in the parking lot of his favorite fast-food restaurant, Burger Flash, eating his meal. With every bite, he looks at his clean and fresh-smelling car. John felt proud of the great job he’s done. It was a bad beginning, but Nathan was right. The car was a good look for him. As John took a swig of his soda, he saw police cars blaring their sirens and lights. John immediately followed to see the commotion. Each exorcist car comes with lights and sirens to assist in traffic. Racing onward, John came up to the crime scene. It appeared to be located at a gas station. Now, all John had to do was park right behind the police car he followed.

Of course a police officer stopped to talk to John after he parked, however the officer let John through when shown a fake badge. Approaching the crime scene, John walks to examine the corpse. The corpse was a young woman with a chunk of her neck bitten off. Her stomach was wide open, showing signs of feasting. The cause of death was apparent. A cursed killed her.

“What is a kid doing next to the body?” asked a voice entering the crime scene. John saw the man walking towards him. The man was dressed in a black suit with a white dress shirt on. He wore matching black pants, dress shoes, and a solid blue tie. John saw a lanyard with a badge bouncing as the man moved forward. This man was most likely a detective.

John pulls out his fake FBI badge to show to the detective. “I’m not a kid. I’m here to investigate this murder.”

The detective examines the badge thoroughly. If it’s fake, then it’s an excellent fake. Then, he examines John. Whoever this person is looks very young, and his height doesn’t help. Based on guesswork, Grant would guess John is five foot two inches. Sure, Grant has met short cops, but John’s young face reinforces Grant’s thoughts that John is a kid. Then there is John’s uniform, which is unorthodox for an FBI agent. Not many agents wear all-black clothing like this. The coat was something to be cautious about; it was very easy to stash weapons in there. A glance into the kid’s eyes makes the detective uneasy as if this young man has seen horrors that no one else could comprehend. The kid also looked tired; the detective wondered if John had been getting enough sleep. 

“Alright, son,” said the detective. “Where are your parents?”

“For the last time, I’m not a kid,” replied John with a more serious tone. “I’m legitimately here for the murder of this young woman.”

“Kind of odd for an FBI agent to show up so quickly.”

“I saw the sirens blaring and followed,” answered John.

“Yeah?” said the detective in a questioning tone. “How about you run along before I set you in the back of my car and call your parents. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“No parents to call,” said John with a shrug, who is growing more annoyed at the man. “I could call your boss and let him know you’re preventing me from doing my job.”

“You have the count of three before I run your plates and call whose number pops up, son,” sighed the detective, not wanting to play these games. He begins counting, which causes John to pull out his phone to make a call. ‘I swear if this kid is actually calling my boss.’

“Franklin,” said John, hearing this kid call out that name gave the detective the shivers. “I’m having an issue. One of your detectives is interfering with my work. Want to talk to him?”

The detective could hear Police Chief Franklin’s voice through the muffled auto on the phone. All of a sudden, John hands over the phone. With a sigh, the detective said, “Hello?”

“Who is this?” asked a very tired Franklin. He sounds like he’s had a hard day.

“This is Detective Grant Summers, sir,” said Grant, confused.

“Detective Summers, please don’t interfere with his investigation,” said Franklin in an exhausted voice. Grant would rather have had John call his sergeant instead.

“Sir, it’s a kid,” Grant said bluntly. “He’s probably no older than thirteen.”

“Hey! I’m not thirteen!”

Ignoring John, Grant continued. “There is absolutely no way a respectable agent from the FBI would hire a teenager. This also doesn’t match. The FBI deals with federal crimes and national security; this is clearly a wild animal attack. Something isn’t right.”

“I’m not asking you to ask questions, Grant!” Franklin yelled. “I’m asking you to back off!”

“But sir, I…” began Grant.

“No buts, the ki… I mean, the boy is in charge, and you do whatever he says! Am I clear?!”

Frustrated at the lack of communication, Grant grunted out, “Yes, sir.” Before Franklin could talk anymore, Grant hung up and tossed John his phone. ‘This is unbelievable. How does this child know the police chief?’

“So kid, whatcha want to know?”

“I just need you to do your job,” John said while checking the woman for identification. He finds her wallet in the purse next to her. The poor victim's name is Rachel Young. “Her name was Rachel Young, and the address is right on the license.”

“So, you’re going to check out her home?”

“Best place to start,” John replied, handing over the license. Thankfully, her address was somewhere he knew the location of. John doesn’t have a GPS, so he has to use his memory to get around. Reading a map is an option, something John can do easily, thanks to his father’s teachings, but it takes too long for John to want to do it. “Gotta figure out who she knew.”

“Who she knew?” Grant asks with extreme confusion, then gestures at Rachel’s stomach wound. “This was a wild animal. No human could leave this poor woman in that condition.”

Looking at the woman’s wounds, they do look like an animal attack. A perfect cover-up story, the most common one The Order uses. However, John is ruining it. This detective isn’t a fool, and John doesn’t make any sense right now. “I got to inform the family and whoever else she knew. That’s what we do, right?”

Grant heard some snark with that last question, making him feel a bit tested. He felt the urge to yell but took a step back. Approaching this with aggression is all wrong; anger isn’t going to get anywhere. If John could get Police Chief Franklin to side with him, it’s evident that this kid is connected to something bigger. Whoever John was, the detective wanted to know. “Let’s start over; I’m Detective Grant Summers.”

“John Widow,” said John, surprised that Grant seemed to have calmed down.

“You don’t have to inform the parents alone,” Grant said. “I can always go with you.”

“No, no,” replied John. He wanted to get as far away from this guy as possible. “I got this. You guys just do your cop stuff.” That said, John left the crime scene and drove off towards the address on Rachel’s licenses. On the drive, John was concerned about Grant but shrugged it off. ‘What could one guy do?’

John instead thought about what kind of cursed he was dealing with. The murder was in public, so it’s not a higher-powered cursed. Stronger cursed are more competent at hiding their killings. The weaker ones will give in to their hunger more often and lash out nearly anywhere. Next was to consider the wounds. Rachel’s neck wound was gruesome but was not so deep. That was the same for the rest of the wounds on her body. The apparent exception to this was the exposed stomach. This information reinforces that this cursed was weaker since whatever meat was eaten off this poor girl was an evident struggle to take. If that’s the case, then this will be an easy day for John if he finds the thing.

John pulls up at Rachel’s listed house and silently sits there momentarily. Violet and Ben usually do all of the talking. Talking to Grant was the first time John spoke to a cop alone. John’s never been good at talking to people and tends not to think before talking. When talking to Grant, John tried to be assertive like Violet and Ben, but John felt as if he had failed miserably. It was clear that Grant was wholly unaffected by John’s attempt. Now, John faces the daunting task of telling Rachel’s family that she died a gruesome death all by himself, a task that seems insurmountable at this moment. ‘How do Violet and Ben do this all the time?’ With a deep breath, John left his car to knock on the door. There was barking, and then a man told the dog to be quiet. A moment passed, and then the door opened. The man was dressed in a polo shirt and khakis.

“How can I help you?” asked the man.

“Is this the house of Miss Rachel Young?” John choked out.

“Yes, it is; I’m her husband,” replied Mr. Young. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“Sir, I think you need to sit down…”

Chapter 9

March 8, 2015

“I wish you contacted me sooner, John,” Reddrick said. “I could have sent someone to assist with the investigation.”

The sun has finally set on this excruciating day. Rain was pouring down with thunder rippling in the distance. John parked at the gas station where the crime happened, watching traffic pass. Hopefully, the cursed returns to the crime scene, as doubtful as it may seem. John has no other plan. Rachel’s husband didn’t seem cursed in the slightest. Mr. Young couldn’t point John to a single person who may be connected to Rachel’s death. It felt like a waste of time and too much heartache. Mr. Young’s crying face is still fresh in John’s mind, and the running water on the window reminds John of Mr. Young’s tears.

“I thought I could handle this,” commented John.

“John…” sighed Reddrick, that was the last thing he wanted to hear. “You still have to report these things.”

Soloists are praised for their ability to act independently as if they were a unit. However, they still have all the responsibilities of an ordinary exorcist team. Violet or Ben would typically check in with Reddrick or handle the paperwork because it was faster if they did it. This led John to never think much of paperwork or reports. John now regrets not taking the steps to understand the processes better.

“I’m sorry, Reddrick,” replied John. “I figured since it was most likely a lesser cursed, it wouldn’t be that much of a deal.”

“This woman is dead. Of course, it’s a big deal, John,” lectures Reddrick. “Did you even do a blood test on Mr. Young? Check the gas station cameras?”

Blood tests are the exorcists' only way of distinguishing demonic forces from regular humans. Since demonic forces can look human, it’s hard to detect anyone that’s demonic. The Order found out long ago that if they bless a vial of demonic or cursed blood, it will react poorly by turning the blood into dried, burned pieces. The vile gets filled with black smoke and permanently stains the glass after the blessing is finished.

“N-No,” admitted John. “I can’t hypnotize, so it would be harder to get the sample, but we were alone for an extended period of time, and he didn’t lash out. Doesn’t seem so cursed to me. And I forgot about the cameras…”

“I’m sending a unit to figure this out. John there are plenty of exorcists that can get a blood sample without hypnosis, plenty of cursed that can control their urges, and almost every exorcist checks cameras.”

“I’ll do better next time,” says John.

“How much longer do you plan on staying out?” Reddrick asks, realizing how late it was.

“A few more hours. I was hoping that my blood would lure the cursed out.”

This was a common practice exorcists used to draw demonic forces out. Blessed flesh was sweeter to cursed and demons. Scholars in The Order theorize that angelic beings are more tasteful to demonic tongues. It’s hard to say; demons don’t stick around long enough to explain, and cursed are just humans. Cursed say blessed flesh excites them more, but their word doesn’t carry as much weight as demons.

“Try walking around,” suggests Reddrick. “It’s raining and you’re in a car, your scent won’t get out too far.”

“Okay,” sighed John. He didn’t want to walk outside, but Reddrick was right. Besides, maybe the walk will help him forget today for a bit. “I’ll call you if anything happens.”

Reddrick and John say their goodbyes, and then they both hang up. It took John a few minutes to muster up the determination to open the door. When he finally stepped outside, John was instantly soaked. John just had to tough it out to find his prey.

Regarding lesser cursed or demons, they stick around areas they’ve already killed in. They are too timid to expand and bump into stronger competition. Alleyways are a common place to find a cursed but no one seems to be around. The streets were empty. Nothing jumps out to John that a cursed is nearby.

After an hour of walking in the rain, John almost called it quits until he heard the sound of glass breaking. Investigating the sound, John stumbled upon a restaurant. The front window was broken, and chairs and tables inside were scattered everywhere. Nothing on the floor indicated what caused this amount of damage. John looked up and saw that the outdoor camera was somehow broken. It was John’s hope that whatever did all this damage was the cursed John was looking for. John slowly crept into the restaurant and checked every single spot he could. Nothing but more broken cameras, so it’s time to check the back. John entered the kitchen and heard squishy sounds as if a wild dog was feasting. Feeling confident that this was a cursed, John continued forward. With the cursed being distracted, John plans to launch a sneak attack. As John reaches into his coat for his blade, he hears footsteps behind him.

“You aren’t the FBI, are you, kid?” asks a familiar voice. John can’t hear the squishy sounds anymore. When he turns to face the man, he sees Detective Grant. Grant has his gun drawn and does not look happy.

“What are you doing here?” asks John quietly, trying to listen for any noises.

“No, the question is, why are you here?” Grant asks. He notices John is slightly distracted. Grant wondered if someone else was here, so Grant remained on guard and relied on peripheral vision for any sneak attacks. “I decided to check up on a few things, Mr. John. Turns out that there were more suspicious animal attacks being covered up. I couldn’t believe that there were so many. Imagine my surprise when other officers confirmed that you were a part of some of these investigations with others dressed similarly as you.”

“Detective, you really shouldn’t be here,” John says as quietly as before. He turns his head quickly, thinking he heard a noise.

“What are you a part of?” questioned Grant, who looked at the same spot as John and saw nothing. He walks over to that spot to get a better look as he keeps his attention fixed on John. “I know about Gary Thune. What are you two up to? Why murder Rachel?”

“Detective, I really need you to…” began John but stopped talking once he saw a figure rise behind Grant. John knew right away it was the cursed that broke into this building. It was a charred black skeleton with bumps and spikes sticking off the bones. “Detective, watch out!”

Grant initially didn’t believe John until he heard a crackling noise behind him. Grant quickly turned around, thinking it might be someone with a weapon. To Grant’s horror, it wasn’t human. Stunned wouldn’t begin to describe the feeling Grant felt. This shocked him to his very core. A monster was before him, a skeleton like in some video game’s dungeon. John called to Grant, but he couldn’t hear. The cursed didn’t waste any time and tried to lunge at Grant.

John pushed Grant down to the ground and was tackled by the cursed instead. When John landed on the ground, the cursed tried to bite John’s neck. John instantly grabbed the cursed face to hold it back and then shocked it with lighting. The cursed rolled off of John, and like a wounded animal, it thrashed around to get away from John. John rolled the opposite way and got to his knees. The cursed quickly got up, found its bearings, and rushed to the front door. John dashed at the cursed but Grant grabbed John.

“What are you doing!” yelled Grant, drenched in sweat. “We need to get out of here and call for backup!”

John looked to the front, but it was gone. John threw his hands up in the air and pushed Grant off of him. “I almost had it!”

“Had it? You thought you had that monster? A-Also… h-how did you do that…?”

“Do what?” asked John in a frustrated voice. He began walking towards where he heard the squishy sounds. Thank goodness it was just meat, no human corpse.

“That yellow th-thing!” shouted Grant, what else could he be talking about. “It crackled like lightning a-a-and you hurt it! Was it like a t-taser?”

John stopped and realized what had just happened. An average human had just found out about the existence of demonic forces. This is bad, worse than bad. This is what his father lectured him about, the thing his father threatened death for. He can’t let anyone know what happened; John needs to keep Grant quiet.

“Hey, detective, maybe we don’t talk about what happened here.”

“What are you talking about?! We need to warn people and stop that thing!”

“And I will,” says John, who’s feeling extremely nervous, terrified even. John thought fighting a full blooded demon was the worst thing in his life, but somehow, this beat it. “I just need you to not say anything.”

“Maybe you didn’t hear me,” Grant retorts. Grant pulls out his phone, which causes John to step toward him. Grant pulls out his gun to stop John’s advancement. “I don’t trust you, and I know you have something to do with this! I have people to protect!”

“Please don’t make me hurt you,” pleads John.

Grant doesn’t listen and begins to look for the right contact to call. John rushes Grant, who attempts to shoot at John. John quickly grabs then takes the gun away before Grant can fire. Grant was about to swing at John, but he wasn’t nearly quick enough; John punched Grant first. Grant stumbled backwards and fell hard, knocking him out. John made an “Ooooo” noise and quickly checked to make sure Grants was not dead. ‘He’s alive, but was that for the best? What am I thinking?! Of course it is!’ 

They couldn’t stay here, so John took Grant back to his car. Parked right next to him was Grant’s vehicle. John stuffed Grant into the trunk and drove off, hoping things wouldn’t get any worse.

Chapter 10

March 9, 2015

“Hey, you’re finally awake,” John says in great relief. It’s been about three hours since Grant was knocked out. John began to wonder if he should have taken Grant to the hospital but fear held him in place.

The back of Grant’s head stung something fierce while his jaw, where John punched Grant, felt sore. Grant tried to check for blood or any bumps on his wounds but couldn’t move; his arms were tied down. Now that he’s more focused, Grant notices his legs are also tied down. Looking around, Grant saw that they were in some garage. It was run down, so it was most likely abandoned or needed an inspector. Based on John’s demeanor, Grant can tell John is scared. Caution is Grant’s top priority; being in this situation with someone scared can end badly.

“Where am I?” asks Grant calmly.

“We are in some cruddy garage,” replied John, still trying to figure out how to negotiate with this man.

“Why did you kidnap me?”

“I felt that staying in the restaurant wasn’t a good idea, and I didn’t want you shooting at me again.”

That’s right. Grant now remembers how he got knocked out. Thinking back, it bothers Grant how John moved quickly enough to steal Grant’s gun before he could shoot. Then, there was the power behind John’s punch. Grant has been in some fights before, but this kid is way stronger than he looks.

“Ok,” began Grant, trying to think carefully about his words. “I am sorry for trying to shoot you. I got lost in the moment, but right now, we are wasting time. That monster is still out there, and I want to stop it just as much as you do.”

“Look, detective, I can’t let you do any of this. Just promise that you won’t say a word to anyone.”

“Why shouldn’t I? What was that thing?”

John crosses his arms, debating heavily. Should he tell Reddrick? In John’s experience, sometimes average people are exposed to demonic forces. As long as the situation is contained and controlled quickly, it’s ok. The problem is that John’s father will have to be notified. John’s father threatened maximum punishment for any issue, and for this, the maximum punishment would be death. John thinks that his dad won’t care that the situation is contained, especially since it is John’s first day as a soloist. Not to mention that it has been only a few days after the subway massacre. Fear strikes John’s heart as he says, “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Classified.”

“Classified, huh?” says Grant. He can see that John is struggling to handle this. Grant correctly assumes that this kid must not talk to others often. “Regardless if it’s classified, we should work together to stop it before anyone else sees it.”

“There’s no ‘we,’” John said frustratedly. “It’s me, and I have to make sure you’re handled.”

“What happens if I don’t comply?” asks Grant, wanting to test the waters. This kid doesn’t seem like he wants to hurt Grant. He’s scared but not aggressive.

John thought about this for a minute. John doesn’t want to hurt or kill the guy. Maybe John could lie his way out. “I take you to my Order, and they will hypnotize you and force you to forget everything. Complete mind wipe. You’ll forget your life and family. Shoot, you’ll even forget how to eat. I’m trying to save you.”

When things like this happen, The Order only forces the person to forget their encounter with anything relating to The Order. It is very rare when they do a total mind wipe, if ever at all. Sometimes, if the exposed person is trusted or has a useful position in society, The Order will use them as an informant. John knows this, but Grant doesn’t. The hope is that the fear of forgetting everything will force Grant to comply.

“Your order?” asks Grant. He can tell that John’s Order is dangerous. Grant wonders if John is scared because his Order will punish him because Grant knows too much. “Sounds like a cult.”

“We aren’t a cult; we are the church!” defended John, not realizing what he said.

“The church? I figured that you are Catholic with that crucifix around your neck.”

John’s jaw dropped. How could he say that? What was he thinking? John hides his crucifix in his shirt. “That’s none of your business. Look, do you want your mind erased or not?”

“Hypnosis doesn’t work that way,” Grant says.

“I mean, ours does,” said John, frustrated that Grant didn’t believe him.

“You’re going to need me,” Grant said, trying to prove his worth. Maybe once he gains John’s trust, Grant could fight back and escape. “You can’t deal with this monster all on your own.”

“You don’t remember my lightning?” John asks in confusion. Especially after the big deal Grant made over it in the restaurant.

“You mean your taser?”

John saw this as his chance to scare Grant into submission, so he held his hands out and made lightning crackle between his fingertips. Grant recognized the yellow glow and sunk into his chair. This has to be a trick, but how? John was not wearing gloves, and there didn’t seem to be wires or anything on his wrists. Grant looks around to see if it could be a hologram. Sure, holograms may be impossible, but after seeing that monster, it wouldn’t surprise Grant. The confusion on Grant’s face made John feel better.

“Don’t believe what you see?” taunts John. “Need to touch it?”

“N-No, I don’t,” replied Grant, not wanting to test his luck anymore.

“We have powers you can’t even comprehend,” John said. “Don’t make me wipe your memory. I’m trying to help you.”

Grant hangs his head down in disbelief. How did he stumble upon monsters and wizards? None of this felt real. The only way Grant could see to get out of this nightmare was to comply with John, but there was a lingering feeling. What about the monster? Grant doesn’t know or trust John enough to handle this situation alone. Besides, Grant wants to learn more; he has a wife and children to protect. How can he protect them with this thing out there?

Grant looks up at John and says, “I still want to help you.”

“Umm... no,” John responded, slightly confused. John thought he had won; why was Grant still arguing this? “Did you forget that my Order will wipe your entire mind?”

“What if I can lead you to this monster?”

“You can do what?” asked John, even more confused. “How?”

“I was looking into a lot of things after you left the gas station,” admitted Grant. “I looked at the camera recording and saw Rachel, but she died in a blind spot. There was a guy that walked the same direction as her. After ten minutes, I saw him again on another camera, running away. I ran his face in the system and found out who he was.”

John felt annoyed that he hadn’t checked on the cameras beforehand. At least no one from The Order was here to tell John, ‘I told you so!’

John rubbed his face and asked, “Is he that Gary guy you were talking about?”

“Yes… I thought you and him were working together. Especially since when I asked around, the other cops said something like this happened to them. Some freak animal attacks, but they were just taken off and asked not to talk about it. Some remembered you.”

“So you thought I was in some mass murdering crime syndicate?” asked John.

“Or some sick serial killer,” Grant admitted.

“Also, how did you find me?”

“I returned to the scene of the crime and saw your car driving off. Thought it was suspicious because of how late it was.”

John crossed his arms and sighed. How could he have let the detective follow him like that? After some thought, John asked, “Where is Gary?”

“I’ll tell you if you let me tag along,” bargained Grant.

“Come on, dude,” sighed John. “Why would anyone want to be near these things? Just go home and be happy to be alive.”

“How can I sleep at night knowing these creatures are out there?” asks Grant, staring John in the eyes. “I took this job to save lives, and if I can help, I want in. I want to learn what these things are to better protect my family and city.”

John paced back and forth, pondering Grant’s request. Since John can’t use hypnosis himself, he has no other way to get the information out of Grant. John won’t resort to torture, interrogating won’t work, and asking anyone from The Order for help was a no-go. After what felt like forever to Grant, John muttered, “Fine… let’s do this.”

John slowly untied Grant, expecting the detective to retaliate. To John’s pleasant surprise, there was no fighting back. Grant followed John outside the garage and got inside John’s car. The address was given, but John didn’t know how to get there. Grant gave John directions the entire ride until they reached an apartment complex.

“Are you sure this is the place?” asked John once he finally found parking.

“Yes, I’m sure,” replies Grant, who wants to get out of the car. John’s driving was a bit too reckless for Grant. “His name popped up in the facial recognition system. He was arrested for aggravated assault five years ago, so he is definitely dangerous.”

“Yeah, but I’m not worried about that,” admitted John.

The two eventually walked into the building. It was four o’clock in the morning, so people were still sleeping. They walked up the creaking stairs, making Grant paranoid of the noise they were making. Almost any step he made felt like a signal to the monster, and John’s calm demeanor did nothing to help. Grant is beginning to think that John is a cocky little punk.

They finally reached Gary’s apartment’s front door. Grant’s instincts say to knock, but John got in front of him and tried turning the knob. Grant snickered but quickly felt disappointed when the door opened. John slowly pulled out a handle from his trench coat. Grant closely inspected the handle. It looked like a sword handle; it even had a crossguard on it. The handle looked larger than he’d expect a sword handle to be.

‘What’s that supposed to do?’ wondered Grant. ‘Is it a magic sword with a lightning blade?’

John pressed the button on the side of the handle, and a blade popped out quickly, causing the detective to jump. Grant has never seen anything like this before. The blade had several different groves that ran down the blade to retract out of. It shined a dull silver, looking pretty worn out. Grant would have honestly thought this was some toy if it wasn’t for the fact that it looks sharp enough to rival surgical blades.

John shushed Grant and ran his hand over the blade. A bluish light began to glow in John’s hand, and the sword eventually glowed the same bluish color. With electric powers and now a blue, glowing blade, Grant rubbed his eyes to see if it was a dream. John, creeping into the apartment, shakes Grant out of his disbelief.

The inside was semi-clean, just a set of clothes on the floor and a rain jacket. The television was on, meaning someone was here but left or hid. The kitchen, which was connected to the living room, was empty as well. Grant decided to check the half-opened door. It was the bedroom, with no one here. John opened the bathroom door and checked the bathtub with no success.

Grant quickly opened the closet in the bedroom but still found no one. Frustrated, Grant let out a sigh. Then, there was a slight dragging noise. Grant turned quickly and noticed Gary crawling out from under the bed. Gary realized he was seen, so he moved faster to get out. Black smoke erupted from his body, almost instantly turning into his skeleton form. Grant ran out to the living room, yelling for John.

John rushed into the living room to see Grant running to the kitchen with Gary right behind him. Now smelling John, Gary lunged at John for his sweeter-tasting flesh. John swung his sword diagonally downward so quickly that Grant barely saw contact. The glowing sword cut the bones like butter, and pieces of bone flung all over the floor. After all of the cursed pieces landed, the black smoke puffed out of each piece of Gary, turning the beast back into a man. Even all the little pieces that broke off of Gary after being cut in half turned into fleshy pieces as well.

The sight made Grant puke. Thank goodness a sink was nearby to aim in. This was madness. How could any of this be real? Yet real it was. John could tell that this was rough for Grant, so he checked on him.

“You good?” John asks. “The first time is rough, but after the fifth time it stops feeling.. Wrong.”

Grant could hear the sincerity in John’s voice, which surprised Grant. When they first started, Grant assumed John was a cocky extreme person, but there seems to be more to this kid than Grant first thought. So many questions and thoughts rushed through his mind, but now isn’t the time to ask. Instead, Grant said, “I’m good, just didn’t expect every piece that broke would turn human again. How do we even clean this up?”

“Leave it to me,” answered John. “My Order will take care of this. Kinda our specialty. For now let’s go, I’ll drive you to your car.”

Without a word, Grant followed John. He was in shock that a child could do these things. John had to make sure that no one would walk into the room. The apartment key was in Gary’s corpse pocket, so John took it to lock the door before they left.  Grant felt sick watching John search Gary’s severed lower half. Once things were locked up, they took a silent trip back to Grant’s car. The sun was starting to rise; the red sky never looked so beautiful to Grant.

“Thanks for telling me where it was,” thanked John.

“You’re welcome,” replied Grant. He was about to get out of the car but stopped. “I want your phone number.”

“Why?”

“To call you if I notice any monsters,” answers Grant. Grant saw this request made John visibly uncomfortable. “Who else should I call? My sergeant?”

“No, no, no, no,” replied John quickly. Grant calling anyone about this could lead to more significant problems. The Order would quickly learn about what they did tonight. John begrudgingly agreed and shared his phone number.

Grant thanked John and held his hand out. John hesitated at first but eventually shook Grant’s hand. John sat still and watched Grant enter his car and drive off. John took a deep breath. Thank goodness this was over, well, kind of. John still has to report Gary’s death to Reddrick, but John is in no rush. John needs a moment to himself. It was a crazy first day.

Author's Note

This is my first time posting on here, any input is appreciated.