The Inheritance

Haunted by the memories of his parents deaths, Christopher McCarthy on his twenty first Birthday inherits the keys to the Family home, the same home his parents were slain in twelve years before.

With a shaky hand and deep apprehension he turned the key in the rusting door lock.

Twelve years and the gruesome images were still firmly tattooed on his temporal lobe.

The door opened with a peculiar ease, almost inviting him inside.

The solid fuel stove was the same, the blood spattered wallpaper that scarred his mind was now a flaking magnolia paint. 

Memories flashed back in short bursts and vivid. So vivid it brought floods of tears to his eyes.

These images had appeared in his nightmares since he was only nine years of age.

"Why cry now?" Years of social workers had taught him how to deal with these feelings. Taking a deep breath, heart pounding like rumbling thunder, he somehow muscled up the courage to step inside.

The School-yard chants began to ping like a ricocheting bullet inside his head. "Mad mad McCarthy's, having their voodoo party’s!"

"Focus! Remember what the therapists had said. My parents were ill, psychotic. Believed they were being hunted by a banshee, a severe mental illness." The candles and crucifixes, burning sage and salt barriers.

Now twenty one, the House was his. A fresh start.

It was bitter cold, the stench of dampness in his nostrils making him nauseous.

The stove had been set but never lit. Pulling matches from his pocket he happily set the kindling alight.

The warmth from the dancing flames gave him comfort.

As he stared into the glowing embers, a sensation of long hair brushed across the back of his neck.

Startled he slammed the stove door shut. The reflection in the glass projected an old woman with long black hair standing directly behind him.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath."Welcome home." Came a haggard voice.

That breath was to be his last.

The move was executed to absolute perfection. Her sharpened blade cut deep into his trachea but didn’t go the distance for a complete decapitation. Blood mixed with his last exhale gushed like a geyser, spattering the hot stove.

Every drop coagulating on impact, streaking the transparent glass like velvet curtains at the close of a show.

"Bleed out you pig!" She screamed, forcibly smashing his forehead against the now raging hot furnace.

A pungent smell of singeing hair and burning flesh quickly overpowered the reek of dampness.

His lifeless body fell backwards sliding more than a foot in the  pool of his own crimson bodily fluids.

Standing proudly over her victim, she gently ran the tainted blade beneath her nostrils and breathed deeply.

The scent of the fresh kill induced a feeding frenzy amongst the dark entities.

Comparable to a of a murder of crows, black spirits emerged from the shadows and the heckling commenced.

Piercing voices from legions of demons crescendoing, attacking her brain like maggots in a rotting carcass.

"Slice the worthless beast to pieces!" Growled Belial, triumphant on yet another victory.

"Don't waste the cadaver, it's still warm. Have some fun with it." Whispered Succubus temptingly.

A thunderous galloping of hooves resonated through the tumultuous uproar.

"Anima mea!" Cried Gamigin hoarsely, trampling the lesser subordinates as he bullied his way through. It was going to be "His soul." Direct orders from the dark lord himself.

Hell's gates wide open, releasing a wake of vultures all intent on feeding on the remnants of the freshly slaughtered lamb.

The scavengers preoccupied with their own self obsession, it was time.

Tossing away the bloodied knife she opted for a choice of more powerful weapons.

With fumbling fingers a final check was made on the arsenal hidden deep in the pockets of the oversized trench coat.

The tally totting up, it was Armageddon.

Before managing to produce any arms, the sneaky serpent intercepted.

A massive surge of energy was suddenly exhumed from her body.

Crashing to the ground like a felled tree, dazed and very much weakened.

 Beelzebub had landed the first blow, automatically gaining advantage.

"You dare defy me!" boomed the horned beast.

Regaining composure proved difficult.

The room shrouded in the darkness of night fall, illuminated only by the dwindling flames of the dying furnace.

A thousand locusts buzzed inside her head, another clever ploy intent on disrupting any clarity of thought.

Adhesion was practically non existent on the blood drenched floor.

Using a serpent like motion, she eventually managed to propel herself into the corner, bringing her spine to rest against the wall.

"Look at you squirm. You are nothing but a worthless maggot. Yet you dare to challenge me, the King of parasites!"

Exhausted, covered in blood and back literally to the wall, it was time to come out fighting.

Sliding her hand into the sticky wet pocket, the first weapon was carefully chosen.

A tiny vessel of Holy water sneakily acquired from the font of the institution's Chapel.

Biting down hard  on the plastic lid, the decaying canines managed to hold out long enough to allow her twist the bottle and release the potent liquid.

With full awareness of the intense pain which was about to rain down, she steadily trickled the liquid across her forehead.

Sizzling on contact and corrosive as acid, the Holy water burned like molten lava as it travelled.

Huge bubbles rising, some exploding spewing out a thick yellow puss.

Although the pain excruciating it was a necessary tactic.

"Satan King of nothing, I denounce you." She whispered, attempting to save as much of her fading energy as possible.

The buzzing of the locusts quadrupled inside her head, a den of vipers seeking refuge from the unholy liquid hissed and squirmed in utter disapproval.

Feeling as though her skull was about to split in two halves, she managed to draw upon her second weapon, a small wooden crucifix, stolen from the foot of a headstone at the nearby cemetery.

Placing it gently upon her lips, she whispered, "Lord Jesus Christ, assist me, I beg of you to free me from the clutches of evil."

"You will burn in Hell for eternity! I will never set you free!" Growled the Lord of Darkness.

The small crucifix began to disintegrate into tiny particles, extending across her entire face. Lice, thousands of them, filling her nostrils and forcing their way into her mouth and ears.

Unable to breathe from the invasion of parasites, defeated, she hung her head.

As her life slowly dwindled so did the hissing of  serpents and the buzzing of locusts.

There came voices, many of them. Bright blue flashes illuminated the room, the loud thud of thunder rolled. The glass shattered sending shards to every corner of the room.

"God you have not forsaken me, In the book of Revelations you said "And there were flashes of lightning and voices and thunders, and there was a great earthquake unlike any that had occurred since men came to be on the earth.""

A light brighter than the sun shone down upon her, in the midst of this light stood a Godly figure dressed completely in white.

Stretching out her hand for the Heavenly Father to take it, he spoke."Cuff her, Shackle that mad b***h, she has managed to kill yet again!"

Dark entities quickly surrounded her, this time wearing navy blue uniforms.

The arresting Garda began to read out her rights."Melissa Ann McCarthy, I am arresting you on the suspicion of the murder of Christopher Andrew McCarthy."

The attending Doctor quickly interrupted. "There is no point Guard, her state of mind wont comprehend a word you are saying. Take her out of here, I have a team waiting for her back at Saint John's psychiatric unit. Do not let her out of your sight!"

A large burly figure appeared in the doorway. "Doctor Stanley, I am Sergeant Sean Noble, I will need you to sign some paperwork as you are taking custody of our prisoner." Handing over a stack of official looking forms.

"What a mess, forensics are going to love this call out!" He said searching around the room with his flash-light. "How did you know we would find her here?"

Raising his honey coloured eyes from the forms, he replied.

"After we discovered she had gone missing from the psychiatric unit, I ordered a search of her holding cell. A letter from her Brother, or now your victim was retrieved. He had written to tell her it was his Birthday today and would be collecting the keys. He stated he was going to try to come visit her and attempt to get a day release on a weekly basis so they could spend time together."

Sergeant Noble wearing a look of complete confusion, scratched his head and asked. "Why would she do this? What motivates a person to do such a thing?"

The Doctor handed him the completed forms, reached into his breast pocket and issued him with his personal contact card.

"I will have my secretary write you up a full report, would you mind if we talked outside? I don’t like it in here."

Noble could see the Doctor was very uncomfortable. "Sure thing Doc, we can talk in my patrol car."

Both Gentlemen walked outside into the lightening storm of blue flashing lights and resumed their conversation in the comfort of the Garda car.

"I understand your discomfort Doc, its a gruesome sight in there."

Stanley rubbed his forehead perplexed.

"Sergeant, with all due respect. I specialised in neurosurgery before I took on my role at Saint Johns, blood does not bother me. Melissa was taken from her parents when she was six years of age. She had attempted several times to kill them while they slept, claiming the walls of the house talked to her. She was finally admitted to a mental institution where every possible test was performed and no diagnosis. The child couldn't gain weight, her teeth began to rot and fall out of her head. She was hospitalised numerous times and nothing was found to be wrong. She aged at an alarming rate and no medical professional could explain why. There is something sinister about this whole thing, its just not right."

Noble could feel chills traversing his spine causing him to shudder in his seat.

In an effort to appear undisturbed by the Doctor's story, he nervously rubbed his chin and smirked. "You trying to tell me Doc, because all you fancy pants Doctors cant diagnose this psychopath, I have to write up my paperwork stating she is eh possessed?"

Stanley never flinched. "In a nutshell yes! She was a burden to the state, her parents refused to take her back as they believed she was the Devil incarnate. They blocked up her bedroom claiming they heard voices coming from the walls, banshees wailing. Every interview Melissa attended she said the instructions were to "Cut the McCarthy blood line, that she was now the banshee of death." Aged eighteen, no medical reason to hold her, she signed herself out of care. Less than twenty four hours later, her brother wakes to find both his parents lying on the kitchen floor with their throats cut. I honestly believe there is something in that house."

The car radio called attention. "Sergeant Noble, we need immediate medical attention, there is something wrong with Garda Lenny McCarthy. He has collapsed, his eyes are rolled back in his head, he cannot breath there are tiny insects crawling all over his face.!"

Noble soiled himself.