"Can you help us?" the woman asked me, desperation clear on her face. I glanced down at the photos of her dismembered son feeling a sense of pity for her.
"I suspect a demonic presence may have been related," I informed her, not quite ready to give my affirmative on this case. "But it doesn't seem that anything is haunting you."
"Why did this happen then?" she cried in despair. "The police have no ideas or leads."
"I can't guarantee that I will be able to find the exact source but even if I do, what exactly would you be hoping for?" I questioned. "It may be best to lay your son to rest and be grateful that nothing else is targeting your or the rest of your family."
"If you could find it, maybe we can get justice," her husband said. "There are ways to kill demons aren't there?"
"I'm not an expert on that. I help lost souls move on so they can be judged or help send angels/demons back to hell and heaven respectively," I replied frankly. "My grandmother used to say only angelic weapons can kill a demon. A weapon like that doesn't exist on our plane of existence."
"Wouldn't a priest have that?" Daisy asked as if it was obvious.
"Of course not," I huffed. "I mean no disrespect but most priests have no knowledge of anything in hell or heaven beyond simple bible verses."
"So that's it then?" she sighed deflated.
"I'll do my best to trace the magic but I can't promise anything more than being able to provide information," I told them both.
"That's fine," Daisy answered for her and her husband. "Do you need anything else to get started?"
"I know it's a bit morbid but I need something from his corpse be it ashes or a bone. I also will need blood from you both," I listed carelessly.
"How much blood?" Daisy's husband asked.
"Enough to fill a small mason jar," I replied, rising from the table. "You can drop it off at my hotel when you have it." I took the pictures in hand and began to make my way towards the door. The fresh air hit my skin and it brought me a sense of peace despite the disturbing nature of this case.
The money was nothing extraordinary but I had a soft spot for children. I glanced at the photo of the boy and wondered what had caused this family to be a victim of a demon who didn't seem interested in possession. The other possibility was that perhaps a group of witches had used the boy in a type of sacrifice. Of course, hearing that the family wanted revenge was my motive for not disclosing that possibility. I wouldn't interfere with witches where they didn't outwardly mess with me. They were very dangerous creatures.
I got into my blue car and turned on my radio. The family lived in the outskirts of town so I had quite a bit of a drive to get back to Downtown, where I booked my hotel. Nothing eventful happened on my way back to my relief. I entered my room and grabbed my suitcase.
Without another moment's hesitation, I stuffed my clothes into a drawer and began to shift through my journals and artifacts. I had various magical objects and such from previous cases I had taken on. My personal favorite was a knife from the lower ring demon that derived power from Mara. It couldn't kill other demons but it did have the ability to wound them and could kill angels. Of course, I had no such reason to use it but it was treasured by me for its beauty in craftsmanship.
My fingers opened a book from my grandmother's journals. As I had nothing else to occupy my time with I was soon fast asleep with the book wide open. Perhaps if I had read it, my life would have taken a very different turn of events.