Chapter Six: Let Me Just Hop in My Delorean Here…
Six years ago…
It was the end of Eli's sophomore year of undergrad, and life, as it had always been, was normal.
"Mom! Dad! Guess who's come to visit!"
She burst through the screen door and dropped her car keys on the countertop. Outside, the trees were richly green and the air smelled of grass clippings and the sweetness of late-spring flowers. The inside of the house was cool, old stone and brick and hardwood floors, the windows thrown open to let the afternoon light shine illuminate the dust motes in the kitchen. Eli kicked off her tennis shoes, stretching leisurely and combing her fingers through her close-cropped blonde hair. "Anyone home?"
"There's my girl," said a deep voice, and she turned to see her father coming down the stairs, a book dangling from his fingertips. "How were finals?"
"Ridiculous," she said, giving him a hug. He was tall: her head only reached his chest, and when he kissed the top of her head she felt the brush of his lumberjack beard. He wore suspenders, as always, and old hiking boots under cheap blue jeans, and smelled like laundry detergent and the faint tint of oil and cars. Eli pulled away from him, beaming. "I'm just glad they're over. Two years down, two years to go."
"Eli? I thought I heard your voice." Her mother emerged from the basement, a bandanna holding her auburn hair back and a smudge of dirt on her cheek. On her hands were the yellow rubber gloves she wore whenever she cleaned, the ones that perpetually stank of bleach. "Are finals over already?"
"Yep. Time for celebration pie." Eli kissed her mom on the cheek. "You know that's the only reason I come home anyway," she joked.
Her mom rolled her eyes, tugging off her gloves and rubbing the dirt from her cheek. "Uh huh. Why don't you go unpack and then help your father make dinner?"
"Sounds good!" she said, grabbing her tattered military bag from the foot of the stairs and swinging it over her shoulders.
"That's a pretty small bag," her father commented, tilting his head and staring at it. His face was blank, but his words were very precise. "How long are you planning on staying with us, sweetie?"
"Just a few days, until my summer internship starts." Eli frowned, pausing halfway up the stairs to look at him. "I thought I already told you that."
He grinned sheepishly. "Must have forgotten."
"Keep forgetting things and soon you'll be on meds," she sing-songed as she continued up the stairs. He laughed.
It was past midnight when Eli's dad shook her out of a deep sleep. "Honey, wake up," he whispered.
"Dad?" She pushed her short hair out of her face, sitting halfway up, her voice thick with sleep. "What time is it? Is everything okay?"
"Get up," he said tersely. In the dark she could see only the dim outline of his face, but it looked strange, like a mask. "And get dressed. Quickly."
"Dad…"
"I'll explain on the way," he snapped. "Now get dressed."
He left the room in a hurry. Eli scrambled out of bed, her heart pumping in her throat. She flicked on the light and shimmied into a pair of old jeans at the side of the bed, stuck her bare feet into sneakers, and pulled on a light windbreaker.
"You ready?" Her dad was standing in the doorway, his stance tense, in work boots and an old checkered shirt. Behind him stood her mom, her face puckered with worry. For a moment there seemed to be something strange about them, just a flicker of the eyes, but then it was gone and Eli dismissed it as a trick of the light.
"Yeah, but Dad…"
"Get in the car," he said, and turned, starting to walk down the stairs. She jogged after him, grabbing at her mom's arm, still in her old bathrobe.
"Mom? What's going on? Where are we going?"
Her mom turned to look at her reassuringly. "Somewhere safe," she promised. "It'll be okay."
Then she kissed Eli's forehead, and Eli shivered.
They drove in silence, Eli huddled in the back seat. Outside the familiar hills rolled by, shadowed and foreboding in the dark. She stared out the window, a knot of fear worming its way through her chest and stomach. Her parents were acting so strange. No one would tell her where they were going. No one would tell her what the problem was, what was happening. She squeezed her eyes shut and sent up a quick, frantic prayer, something she hadn't done in years. Please, God. I don't know what else to say, just… please. Please.
They pulled up in front of an old abandoned factory at the edge of town. "Why are we stopping?" Eli asked, peering through the glass at the moonless night.
Her mom turned to her and smiled gently. "This is where we're hiding," she said, her voice a little too calm, almost stilted. "Get out of the car."
"Hiding? From who? Why won't anyone tell me what is going on?" Eli's voice was frantic, rising in tone. She wanted to stay in the backseat, curled into a ball on the familiar leather cushions until morning came and the sun blossomed over the sky.
"Please, honey, just trust us. We'll explain everything once we're inside, but now we have to move fast. They're coming."
"Who?" Eli begged, but opened the car door anyway. The night was cool and smelled like early summer, the wind ruffling the sparse grass that grew from cracks in the pavement. The hulking building in front of them looked like it was about to fall apart, the kind of place where ghosts of old factory workers roamed the empty hallways.
Her mother took her hand and led her into the darkness.
They entered through a small door onto what appeared to be a loading dock. On a brighter night perhaps the moon would have sent streamers of light spooling through the large windows that lined the top of the walls, but tonight it was just dark, a slick inky black that made it impossible to see. The steady plunk of dripping water could be heard from somewhere close by, and Eli's feet squelched in puddles left over from rain seeping through holes in the roof. Her father clicked something and a bare bulb dangling from the high ceiling flared weakly to life, bathing the grimy interior in weak, sputtering light.
"Daddy," Eli whispered like a little girl. She hugged her windbreaker tighter to herself. "Why are we here? Are… are we safe?"
"No," her father said, and his voice was different somehow, smoother and oiler, the edges dancing with something malicious. "At least, you're not."
Then he turned and slammed her into the wall with inhuman strength, one hand around her neck, the other at her chest, holding her against the ancient surface.
"Da…" she whimpered, choking, unable to breathe. The stink of something like rotten eggs assailed her senses; the hand at her chest was heavy, almost rib-cracking, digging her back into the filthy wall. She looked at him, scrabbling at his wrists with her hands, trying to break his grip.
"Hello, Elijah," he said. "I've been waiting a very long time to speak with you."
Then he grinned, and his dark brown eyes turned a sickly yellow.
Eli tried to scream. She flailed her arms out, trying to push him away. Spots were dancing in her vision. She looked over at her mother, standing a few feet behind this thing that was most definitely not her father, but her mom just stood there, smiling wickedly. Her eyes had gone completely black.
"Oh don't worry, no one is coming for you," the yellow-eyed thing breathed. "I've made sure of that. Enochian spell work on all the walls. I bet they don't even know that you are gone. It's not like they watch over you all the time…oh no, the opposite really. They're trying to forget you even exist, that if they lock you up tight no one will ever find you. It took a long time, I must admit. Nineteen years. But I did it, and here you are."
Eli had no idea what he was talking about. She was starting to lose consciousness. He loosened his grip on her neck slightly, and she sucked in a deep breath.
"Who are you and…where is my father," she croaked when she could speak. He looked at her, amused.
"He's fine. Just sleeping now. It's not the first time something's invaded his body. When we're all done here, maybe I'll even let him go."
"What do you want with me?" she whispered. He studied her, tipping his head to the side in a very inhuman way.
"You really have no idea what's going on, do you?" he asked. "No idea of who you really are." Suddenly he lifted his hand from her neck and laid it on her forehead. He closed his yellow eyes. "Layers and layers of binding magic, whew. Hardcore stuff. Lucky for you, I'm just the thing to break it. Well, some of it. We'll have to wait until The Big Boss gets here to finish the job."
"What the hell are you talking about?" she asked. She was shaking, her heart pumping blood and adrenaline at an impossible rate, every nerve in her body on edge. Tears flooded her eyes. She wanted to vomit in fear. "Whatever you think I am, you've got it wrong. I'm nothing, okay? Nobody. Just let my parents go, please. I'll do whatever you want, just please let them go."
"Oh, Elijah, Elijah, Elijah. You will do whatever we want." He pressed down harder on her forehead. "But I don't think," he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut with concentration, "that you'll have much choice in the matter."
He paused, then grinned. "Ah," he murmured. "There it is. Now hold still. This might hurt just a bit."
He twisted his palm against her skin, and Eli screamed.
It was like there was a splinter buried deep within her brain, and he was reaching inside and pulling at it, ripping and shredding the delicate tissue. The pain was immense and sharp, almost unbearable; her eyes rolled to the back of her head as the splinter inched out, so slowly it was like torture. Dimly she heard herself screaming, pleading, begging him to stop, but it was like it was someone else's voice going hoarse and stretched; all she could concentrate on was the red-hot pain.
She could feel it slide roughly to the surface, through her frontal lobe, tearing, tearing, tearing, and then delicately pierce her skin. She began to seize, blood running down her nose and out of her eyes, the sound rising from her throat that of a hysterical, dying animal.
Then it was out, and everything exploded.
White-hot light flooded her vision, making her skin feel like it was being burned off. She could feel every single atom in every single cell within her body, and all of them were writhing in agony. Whispers filled her mind, rising in pitch, frantically calling something she couldn't understand. It was unbearable anguish, ten times worse than the splinter pain, and she couldn't take it any longer.
It ended as quickly as it had begun.
"Well," came a familiar oily voice. "That was impressive."
The thing that was not her father removed his hands from where they had been shielding his eyes. Eli looked up, and immediately began to scream again. "Your face!" she howled, pushing herself feebly into the wall. "Oh my God, what the fuck is wrong with your face?"
Superimposed over her father's smirk was a writhing, ugly mass of twisted features and blackened, sagging sores. It grinned at her. "I guess it worked then. Now to finish the job."
"No!" she screamed as he lunged at her, but she was too weak to struggle. He grabbed her shoulder with one hand and with the other held something up: it was a slender circle of metal which he unhinged with a snap. Even in her fragile state she could sense the waves of power radiating off of it, like a high frequency song, calling to her.
"Time for your collar," he hissed, pushing it at her throat. With a power she didn't know she had she grabbed his wrist, struggling briefly.
"Stay… away… from …me," she gasped. He growled at her, pushing harder, and after a moment Eli smelled something burning. She flickered her gaze to where her hand was wrapped around his wrist, just inches away from her throat, and saw it.
Where her fingers touched his skin it was sizzling, filleting her father's flesh, sending up thin wisps of smoke. Still he pushed her, horrible face knotted in concentration.
And then a gun rang out, hitting the monster squarely in the side.
It didn't seem to hurt him, but it did distract him. He let out a snarl like a wild animal and turned his head to glare at the interlopers. Seizing her chance, Eli pushed at him, knocking the collar to the ground. She lunged forward and pressed both of her hands against his face.
The thing screamed in pain as his flesh started to crackle. He wrenched away and with a jerk of his head sent her flying into the opposite wall. Her back slammed against moldy concrete; she stuck there, like she was wrapped up in Velcro, several feet above the ground, an invisible hand around her throat.
Eli was just barely aware of a group of men rushing into the room, all with what looked like sawed-off shotguns. One of them began to chant loudly in Latin; the thing whirled around and sent him flying to the ground with just a wave of its hand, but another man picked up where the first had left off. Off to the side, the creature that was inside of her mother was rolling on the ground with one of the men, hissing into his face. Another man raised his gun, pointing it at her back.
"No!" Eli managed to scream hoarsely. "No, please! It's in my mom!"
The man with the gun hesitated, then grabbed the monster's hair and pulled it roughly off the other man, chanting in Latin. Eli could see the thing's real face, contorted in pain, shaking and trembling as the recital continued.
Finally it screamed, tilted back its head, and sent a stream of black smoke rushing from her mother's mouth. She collapsed in a pile, small and pathetic in her tattered bathrobe.
The men closed in around the first monster, chanting. It shook its head ruefully and looked Eli right in the eye.
"I'll be seeing you, kid," it said, then opened her father's mouth and emerged in a whirling tunnel of smoke.
The moment it was gone Eli slid down from the wall as if released from invisible chains. Her father was unconscious on the ground, bleeding from the shotgun wound in his side. His face was normal.
"Daddy," she whimpered, crawling across the floor to him, tears welling in her eyes. "Dad, Dad, oh my God."
One of the men crouched next to her. He reminded her of her dad, with his beard and gruff voice and worn work shirt. "Hey, hey now," he said soothingly. "I'm here to help you. It'll be okay, but we've got to get you out of here."
Eli shook her head fiercely. "I can't just leave my parents like this."
"My friends will stay behind and get them to a hospital," the man said with a flat Midwestern accent. He leaned over, gently lifting the torn flannel shirt that covered her father's wound. "He'll be fine; the bullet went clean through. It's you I'm worried about. I have to get you someplace safe."
"That thing," she gasped. "What was it?"
"A demon," the man said grimly. "Powerful one, too. Been on its tail for years."
"It… it tried to…" She gestured lamely at the circlet of metal still gleaming on the dirty floor. "It was going to put that around my neck. Why?"
"Don't know," he answered in a curt voice. "Just know you've gotta be kept safe. Especially tonight. Come on." He moved to pry her hands away from her father's shirt. "It'll be okay. Say, what's your name?"
"Elijah…Eli. Eli Grant," she whispered shakily.
"Well Eli, my name is Bobby, and I promise you that everything is going to be okay. I just need you to let go and come with me."
She stayed silent, just staring at the prone body in front of her.
"Please," he implored.
Finally bent her face down and kissed her unconscious father on his cheek. There were finger-shaped blisters on his skin from where she had laid her hands on the demon. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispered. "I'm so sorry." Then she let the soft material slide from her grasp and she stood. "Where are we going?"
"My house," Bobby answered shortly. "It's a bit of a drive, but it's the safest place I know. You okay to walk on your own?"
Eli stared at the two bodies on the ground, feeling the prickle of white light still dancing on her fingertips and the strange hum of voices in the back of her head. There was a steady warmth growing inside of her, like a door opening, and despite everything a little voice deep inside of her sighed and whispered, Oh, finally.
"Eli?" Bobby prompted.
She looked at him and nodded slowly, her eyes blank and dazed. "Yeah. I'm fine." She hesitated, wrapping her arms around her body as if to ward off a chill. "How did you even find me?"
Bobby's shoulder's twitched, and when he spoke his voice was sharp, as if daring her to doubt him. "Would you believe me if I said a dream led me here?"
Eli couldn't speak; she just swallowed, hard, and nodded.
They walked out the door together into the night. Bobby paused only to pick up the circlet of metal off of the filthy ground and slip it into his pocket, where it lay heavy like a stone.