An Unpleasant Discovery
By Dane Lurex
Home sweet home, John thought to himself as he entered the poorly kept apartment. He took the nearest bottle of whiskey and let himself collapse into the nearest chair. Then swearing at his own ability to remember, he got up again and found a relevant book on the matter that shoved itself this night.
The half breed had actually been very good, very discreet. The forthcoming of Beelzebub would normally have caused a giant wave of gossip ending up down at Midnite's place. That was partially why he was taken aback by the damned half breed. John laughed a little, a bitter and frustrated laugh. He could have easily prevented the thing from happening, but to reverse the damned thing, sending the next unto Lucifer back to hell could turn out to prove tricky. To tell the truth he never saw it coming. Midnite also had to be paid a visit and John would make sure that he would never hear the end of how he missed something as great as Beelzebub's forthcoming. John stopped and looked up from the book. Maybe Midnite had known. For the first time in his life he thought, I'm getting too old for this, ignoring the fact of his age.
John found the testament of Solomon and nearly choked on his whiskey, when he had read some of it. He forced himself to read the bit aloud just to make sure that his mind was playing a trick on him or the whiskey was working way too fast.
"I Solomon said unto him: "Beelzeboul, what is thy employment?" And he answered me: "I destroy kings. I ally myself with foreign tyrants. And my own demons I set on to men, in order that the latter may believe in them and be lost. And the chosen servants of God, priests and faithful men, I excite unto desires for wicked sins, and evil heresies, and lawless deeds; and they obey me, and I bear them on to destruction. And I inspire men with envy, and murder, and for wars and sodomy, and other evil things. And I will destroy the world . . . "
"Shit," he answered the silence. This was growing more frustrating by the minute. Now Beaman had to paid a visit as well. Why couldn't it ever be simple?
John laid down the old book and emptied his rather large glass of whiskey. Then he fumbled after his pack of cigarettes, really needing one and found only one left in it. He looked at the small white stick.
"Number 40?" he asked himself in disbelieve "- that makes one very trying day" he concluded, lighting it. He left the book and the bottle on the table not really caring whether the place looked presentable or not.
In the bathroom he looked in the mirror, hating the damned man looking back. A more objective review of the man looking back was that he was losing weight again.
His eyes then fell upon his wrists. He turned his hands around and huge scars showed themselves in all their terror and beauty. They were symbols of damnation, a constant reminder of where he was going.
He wanted to have read some more, but his tired body wouldn't let him. He collapsed on his bed and fell asleep, while the sun appeared in the horizon.
However, his sleep was troubled with too many thoughts and when the telephone rang several hours later he actually felt more tired than he did before he slept. Life wasn't fair.
"Hello," he mumbled tiredly.
"Hello, John, its father Hennessy," Hennessy answered, sounding as if he was running. "-you better come downtown. There's a whole epidemic of possessions going on here. They're all powerful demons," he continued almost panicking. John sighed, being very unhappy with the situation.
"I'll be there in an hour or so," he finally answered and got out of bed coughing. He had definitely been smoking too much.