Seven-X (8 page)

Maybe I was close and this was my opportunity to hide inside her skin and feel the forces that kept her company in this dark place. Perhaps my other senses were finally aroused with the absence of light. Things that were indescribable suddenly had flavors and texture.

 Lying on the cold, damp cot, the mustiness of the fabric penetrated my nostrils, but it was like sniffing a freshly made stew. 

The flavors of rust, sulfur and iron were seasoned into the stew trying to overpower the dramatic presence of urine. A slight hint of vomit and blood seasoned throughout this bowl completed my dish.

What once had diminished my appetite and curled my stomach was now almost intoxicating as I could finally detect the scent of salt that covered those potato chips and the mustard that lined the molding bread of my long forgotten ham sandwich. 

I clawed across the damp black floor, feeling my surroundings like a blind man. Something darted across my fingers as I knocked against the paper plate and began ravishing my meal.  I forgot I was in the cell and the aroma of the mustard on my lips kept me concentrated on satisfying my hunger.

It must have been drugged because a little while later I woke up in a cold sweat. I thought I had a heart attack, but it was a nightmare that had invaded my mind and imprinted a clear vision to me through the black air.

I was sitting in a big open field on this deep red blanket watching the moon spin. It was a full moon that sort of danced in circles across the sky. From across the field I saw this leopard moving toward me. 

As the leopard moved dangerously close I tried to get up, but I realized I was woven into the blanket. My legs and arms were intertwined like I was caught inside a spider’s web and I couldn’t move as the leopard moved closer and closer.

I could see its face snarling at me as he took his claw and swiped through my chest and stomach. My skin peeled off like gift-wrap and my organs were exposed to the cold, winter air. His second swipe gouged through my ribcage ripping into my heart and lung. Pulling back his massive claw he easily ripped my ribs open and my organs dangled in front of me as the leopard began eating. 

His teeth would latch on to pieces of my muscle and he pulled hard at them until they separated from my body like tenderly cooked meat. I looked down to catch his eye and as he became aware of my glance, he pulled back so I could look deeply into him. His nose was dripping with my blood and his mouth was filled with my half chewed organs. 

He gave me a moment to see my grizzled reflection in his eyes, then he sprung at me and sunk his teeth into my skull, slowly breaking it open in his mouth. 

I couldn’t feel any pain and I had no emotion. I just quietly watched myself being devoured as if I was no longer in my body and I was no longer me. 

And as I sat there motionless reflecting on my departure from this world, one of the guards brought me back home to what was now a dry and brittle cell. As he unlocked the cell door, I could see a smattering of light that accompanied the sun and the opened door revealed shades of color that brought feeling back to my body. He never said a word as we walked across the institution.

 The brightness of the daylight painfully blinded my eyes and it was hard to get a bearing on my location. My feet tried to memorize the patches of grass between the concrete and the back of my mind counted steps as my mouth tried to make small talk and get information to my whereabouts, but it was all to no avail. 

Now I’m waiting outside the office for Haworth and Billings to clear me. I’m exhausted, but thankful for an electrical outlet, so I can recall this evening while it’s fresh in my mind. Knowing that each piece of this night has a purpose to my investigation. 

Here they come, walking together down the hall. I want to punch them both in the head, but that would pretty much seal my fate here. I have to stay cool and play by the rules. I’m playing their game now, on their home court. I’ll let you know how it goes.

AUDIO LOG:                                                      

FRIDAY DECEMBER 10, 2010 – 9:00 AM

ENTERED BY MELODY SWANN.

This is the second log in the first batch of recordings that Eddie sent me. Eddie is talking.

“This Eddie Hansen with Doctor Alan Haworth and Reverend William Billings. It is Friday December 10
^th
at 9:00 am. I was forced to spend last night in a padded cell against my will and I just received my recorder back. Right? We are sitting in the assessment room where I am told I need to get clearance to return to my room and my personal possessions. Is this true, boys?”

The doctor responded forcefully,  “Mr. Hansen, please note on your consent agreement and in all of our publications and contracts that it is the policy of this center to detain any violent offender overnight for observation.”

 “Isolation?” Eddie yelled. “In a black hole like a criminal.”

“The seclusion rooms are for your protection,” the Doctor noted.

“You are so full of shit!”

The priest told him, “Eddie. We made specific mention of supernatural manifestations and instructed you for preparation, which you deemed unnecessary. You put yourself and others in danger by entering unauthorized.”

 “Sorry,” Eddie answered.

“You need to follow our rules,” the Doctor instructed.

“What I need is a hot shower and some sleep.”

“You didn’t sleep well.” asked the priest.

“With all that screaming and the drugs you slipped me,” Eddie added sharply.

“You were not drugged, Mr. Hansen. There were no other patients in your ward.” 

“You love fucking with me, don’t you, Doc?”

“Refrain from that language and tone of voice with me. You realize that your voluntary admission status at this facility is subject to change at my discretion.”

Eddie replied, “You know, I know what’s going on here. People know I’m here and they know why, so don’t fuck with me.”

The priest gently said, “This runs deeper than you imagine. We can not risk your well being.”

“I’m fine,” Eddie answered firmly. “Timothy Nathan Tyler is not. And you wanted me to see him.  He’s number six, isn’t he? And Annette Dobson, she’s lucky number seven. What are you doing with them?

“Rehabilitating them,” said the Doctor.

“Bullshit! Tyler looks like ‘Re-Animator.’ He’s a lifeless zombie.”

“His lobotomy was for his safety and others in this facility,” the Doctor told Eddie.

“That explains his pretty scar lines.”

“However, Mr. Hansen,” the Doctor continued. “You will soon notice multiple personalities that transcend his mental condition.”

The priest interrupted, “I believe he is possessed by eight Demons, but Achlys is not one of them. She came for you.”

“What? You saying I’m possessed, Rev?”

“No. Not At this moment.”

“Not at  what?

“I believe you are oppressed. Based on your MMPI, I believe you still maintain control over most of your behavior.”

“Yeah. Most,” Eddie told them sarcastically. I can sense his blood pressure rising.

The doctor intervened, changing the subject. “Mr. Hansen, Do you recall Timothy Tyler’s murder trial?

“The Vampire Killer, of course.” Eddie answered. “Tyler killed sixteen coeds over six years trying to make them his bride.”

“Very good. If you examined court records you would have seen that I was the psychologist hired to determine if Mr. Tyler’s plea of insanity was valid. My initial diagnosis was that he was suffering from a rare disorder known as Cotard’s Syndrome. He truly believed he was already dead and therefore not responsible for any actions in his present life.”

The priest then said, “In spiritual counseling it was discovered that Timothy Tyler was under the control of Ibwa, a demon from Philippines. Ibwa feeds off dead bodies and ordered the murders. Once possessed, Timothy claims he had no control or recollection of the events.”

“How’d you come to this?” Eddie asked.

“Speaking with the demon directly, much like you witnessed yesterday.”

“Don’t expect me to believe your show. I’m not some pharmaceutical company who’s gonna throw you millions to cure schizophrenia.”

“You’ll believe by seeing and experiencing and that is why you are here, to record your story,” the Doctor told Eddie.

 “You do understand I’m recording this. I can use this as your confession for holding Tyler.”

The Doctor responded very authoritatively, “Our research is protected. We are approaching a conclusion and that is the only reason you were invited here, Mr. Hansen. This is your story, for your glory, the infamy you so badly desire.”

“You read my notes while I was out cold?” Eddie asked.

“Tonight we’ll review case notes and some tapes that will help you understand your participation in our research Eddie. You may go back to your room,” the priest told him.

“I’m free to go. I can just walk out of here.”

“Yes Mr. Hansen,” said the doctor.

“Great! I’ll take my recorder and head out. I need to get my camera fixed, thanks to your staff. I’ll be back tonight.”

“Please be careful,” the Doctor warned. “These roads can be dangerous at night.”

“Eddie,” added the priest. “ Please review Matthew Chapter Twelve, Verse Forty-Three and Luke, Chapter Eleven, Verse Twenty-Four in the Bible I left for you. I’ve highlighted the verses for your  reference. You need to read this to proceed with us.”

“Will do boss.”  Eddie told them as he closed the door and left. He then shut off his recorder.

That is the end of this recording.

JOURNAL ENTRY                                              

FRIDAY DECEMBER 10, 2010 - 10:03AM

That was absurd. They had me and just let me go. I was helpless. They knew they had all the power. Why let me walk? I can go to El Paso right now and blow the whistle on Tyler. If Dobson is there too, it’s a bonus. How could they stop me from publishing my story? They know I work for the Times and as I long as I have proof this can be published. Why aren’t they afraid?

Who’s protecting them? That’s the golden goose. The icing on this cake.  Is it the State of Texas? The U.S. Government? Some large pharmaceutical or medical company with billions to gain?  They’re all possible suspects. That’s the fist thing you learn when investigating a crime. 

Follow the money. 

Find the money.  

Find the answer!

They want to feed me clues, because this is a twisted game to them. I may as well play along and see what’s so relevant in this Bible that Billings wants me to see to proceed. I’m checking those verses like Billings asked. Here we go.

Matthew Chapter 12 Verse 43-46
 

43
“When an evil spirit comes out of a man, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it.
44
Then it says, ‘I will return to the house I left.’ When it arrives, it finds the house unoccupied, swept clean and put in order.
45
Then it goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that man is worse than the first. That is how it will be with this wicked generation.”

Pretty wild. The final condition of the man is worse than the first. If that isn’t a mental hospital, I don’t know what is. Maybe Jesus was on to something. He was this rebel super-hero, standing up against the regime, fighting for the underdog. Let’s see what the other verse says.

Luke Chapter 11 Verse 24-26

24
When an evil spirit comes out of a man, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, ‘I will return to the house I left.’
25
When it arrives, it finds the house swept clean and put in order.
26
Then it goes and takes seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that man is worse than the first.

Damn. It’s identical, except for the last line about this generation. That’s two different people, Matthew and Luke recording the same story in the same words over two thousand years ago. 

That’s highly uncommon.  From my historical studies in the early part of the first century, if a scribe or historian wrote about a person or event, it was rare that you’d find two different reporters or authors write the exact same words at different times. 

Especially, when all the other information surrounding this event is from a different perspective. They didn’t have tape recorders or video cameras to get an exact quote. People didn’t carry parchment paper around like laptops, so this is interesting coming from a historical perspective, dealing with a historical character.  I mean, these guys Matthew and Luke hung on these words. They must have had a deep impact on them. Even Julius Caesar, Caesar Augustus or Herod The Great were not quoted as accurately or as often as Jesus. The stories of Nero, Caligula and Spartacus are vintage Hollywood icons from this same era, yet their exact words are never transcribed with the accuracy and detail that went into preserving Jesus words. 

Why are Jesus’ words the ones that stood the test of time?

If Jesus said this and two different reporters wrote about it precisely, is there any chance it could be true?  

I never put much stock in the Bible. I figured these were all stories like Spartacus, embellished by the church to control people to do what they wanted while they took their money and molested their children.

But from what I read here, it looks like Jesus seriously knocked some demons or monsters out of some people, then some jackasses around him started talking smack. Jesus answered back like a press conference and gave his audience explanations. Each reporter remembered different facts and quotes and wrote the story down. But both guys remembered these particular words exactly as stated above.