Seeking Answers
Nick decided to bunk at Matt's house for the rest of his stay but feeling bad that the stag party went sour, Matt asks Nick if he wants to check out a local haunted place to rekindle his spirits.
Though reluctant, Nick opts to go ahead with it. Maybe he can find out what's been haunting him. Strangely when he got to Vegas, his nightmares and tormenting reduced drastically. But why, plagued his mind every moment.
Later that night, Matt and Nick with other guys walked into a house that resembled a castle. As they walked into the darkness, Matt recited the history of the place but Nick wasn't paying attention…feeling the energy go heavy like they were under water. As he turned to mention it, he saw one of the guys holding a Ouija board…
Oh, you've got to be kidding…
He felt uncomfortable using it since the memories from the last time he used one it caused havoc on his last adventure, but they encouraged him to go along. After much coaxing and feeling it may identify what's attached to him, he reluctantly placed his hands on the cursor as they spun it clockwise three times.
Matt went first,
"Who's here?"
Nothing, then another question.
"When did you die?"
Silence once more, then a slow movement of the cursor moved to Yes.
"What is your name?"
The cursor moved to No, Nick's heart gorged with fear.
"Why won't you tell us your name?" Matt asked,
The cursor didn't move an inch, so he asked another question.
"What do you want?"
The cursor moved as they spelled:
"N-I-C-K"
"Why Nick?"
It spelled next,
"S-U-F-F-E-R"
"Suffer."
"Where did you come from, why are you torturing me?" Nick asked having enough of the games.
The cursor spelled letter by letter,
"D-E-M-O-N H-O-U-S-E" then "I-F-O-L-L-O-W-Y-O-U. Demon House, I follow you."
Nick's chest raced with a throbbing meaty punch, blood gushed through his ribs.
Then the cursor spelled,
"I-W-I-L-L-R-E-T-U-R-N. I will return."
The guys quickly requested the entity to move to Goodbye, though it moved to No several times. Finally, Nick snapped.
"Look, you son of a bitch! You move to Goodbye now! Leave me alone!"
Finally, the cursor moved to Goodbye but Nick knew better…this wasn't over.
Nick explained to them what happened at his last investigation with Zak and Aaron, he and Veronique had separated without seeing his daughters until he could rid of this dangerous entity. But Vegas was no place to pull himself together from all of his problems, so Matt fully supported Nick's reasoning to leave.
Later that night, as Nick walked the Vegas strip alone as floods of people passed him in the street, he saw a Church nearby. Even though they're mostly filled with young drunk couples getting fling married in Vegas, it was better than nothing. He had to take care of before he left, he left apprehensive to step inside but pushed on using his will to live driving each step closer.
Finally inside the church with stained glass windows gleaming from the night life outside, he sat in a pew and crossed his arms over the one in front. Staring at the religious figures around him, he sighed in desperation.
Maybe one of you can help me…please.
Just then, a soft male voice spoke next to him.
"Hello there, you're a new face."
Nick looked up at the black robed man, tall earth brown hair with dark brown eyes behind his rectangular spectacles.
"Hi, I'm Nick." He shook his hand.
"Father George."
He sat next to Nick, seeing that look of a lost soul in his eyes. Nick told him everything that happened, as Father George listened closely, he nodded with intent.
"Well, Nick. I personally don't believe in possession or attachment, do have any history of mental illness?" Asking bluntly, Nick looked startled by this suggestion.
"Father, what are you saying?"
"My son, there are no such thing as a true possession. Only people who believe they are, and those people have untreated-"
Nick interrupted him,
"Look, Father. No offense, but I investigate things like this for a living and I can tell you that I have no mental illness of any kind."
"Now, my son. I do believe in encouragement of prayer to influence people to get the help they need for mental issues. Never before in my five years in being a priest have I encountered real possessions and each one I had was mistaken for medical reasons."
Nick shook his head in disbelief, standing up in defiance.
"You really don't get it, I wish you a better man than you are…and God help those you seek your advice when real spiritual problems arise. Because they exist, whether you believe or not."
Nick walked down the aisle, Father George stared out after him while stunned by the revelation he just received. Nick paced outside the doors, huffing breaths of frustration.
I ask for help and I get that?! Please God, send me anyone who can actually help!
He prayed in his mind, just then a police patrol car pulled up to him.
"Hey man, you alright?" The friendly officer spoke out from his window.
Nick looked at him and saw the most striking blue eyes he'd ever seen, sending a wave of calm over him. Something he hadn't felt for over a month, the officer stepped out and tried to initiate a conversation with him.
"Everything okay, buddy?"
"Yeah," Nick replied, " Was just inside that church, asking for advice and that-that-so called priest doesn't believe what I'm saying."
Nick looked over and saw the officer's name badge, Mike A.
"What's your name, man?"
"Nick, Nick Groff."
"Well, Nick. It's pretty late, do you have a safe way to get home."
"No, I walked here from my friend's house where I'm staying." Nick gave him the address.
"Well, hop in. I was just on my way in that direction for a coffee break, I'll give you a ride." Officer Mike replied.
Nick nodded in compliance,
"Thank you."
They got into his patrol car and rode down the Vegas strip, remaining silent until the officer broke the silence once more.
"So what brings you to Vegas?"
At this point, Nick was pretty sick of repeating his sob story but the officer glanced in his mirror, seeing the glance of a man who almost rid of life.
"Been through a lot. Huh?"
"Yeah, you could saw that. It often feels like no one can hear me, especially here. You know, with all the casinos, gambling and rowdy parties."
"I hear ya, man. So you're looking to leave soon?"
He nodded.
"Yeah, I have a friend on the East Coast who's willing to let me stay in the meantime."
"Well, that sounds like you've a great friend there. People like that are rare, cherish them."
Nick nodded and glanced out the window, they stopped at a light. Nick then glanced down seeing a medal dangling from the officer's mirror.
"What's that?" He asked, pointing to it.
The officer caressed it in his hand, clearly he valued this piece with his life.
"It's Archangel Michael, my namesake. He's the patron saint of the police, and man, he has saved my life more times than I can count on this job."
"That's crazy. You believe in angels?" Nick asked.
"Oh, yeah. No question God exists, he works in mysterious ways. Maybe this friend of yours giving a place to stay is his way of helping you."
"Maybe…"
Nick hoped as the patrol came to a stop,
"Here you go, Nick."
They shook hands,
"Thanks, Mike. I appreciate it."
"My pleasure." Before Nick slid out, he spoke up one last thing.
"And Nick?"
"Yep."
"You take care of yourself and remember that you're never alone…ever."
He nodded and waved at him as he pulled away. Nick laid in his couch, knowing he was leaving this forsaken place soon and at least one person believed him. Tomorrow was flight to freedom, his final destination…
New York City…