The Apprentice

Teens dabble in the occult with dire consequences.

The Apprentice

a short story

by

Douglas Stephens

The devil is here even in the 21st century.  And we mustn’t be naive, right?  We must learn from the Gospel how to fight against Satan.

--Pope Francis

Christopher Mills’ heart was pounding.  After months of watching his next door neighbor, Daniel, sneak out of his house at midnight and ride off on his bike, his curiosity had now piqued.  Throwing caution to the wind, he walked out the front door of his house, hopped on his bike, and headed off in Daniel’s direction.

Lacking an alibi as to his whereabouts should his mother awaken, Christopher, a freshman at the high school were Daniel was a junior, remained at a safe distance behind, propelled by curiosity as to where Daniel was headed.  Was he off to hook up with a girl?  Possibly.  But why in the middle of the night?  Was he up to something sinister. . . .even criminal?  He found that hard to believe.  Was he being abused by one of his parents, his midnight rides his only escape?  Doubtful.  And why was he dressed all in black?

A rush of adrenalin flooded Christopher as he followed his neighbor through the sleepy streets of his Jersey Shore town.  As he turned from Main Street onto Asylum Road, the way become darker and more rural.  Christopher noticed that Daniel had turned off the rear light on his bike, making it more difficult to follow him.  Thankfully, there was sufficient moonlight to still see Daniel who abruptly stopped when he reached the gates of Help of Christians Cemetery.

Local children called it, “Spider Gate Cemetery,” due to the black, spider leg patterns on the two large iron gates at the entrance.  Adding to the creepiness were two grotesque gargoyles, standing on top of each of the two stone pillars on which the gates were mounted.  The stone creatures looked disdainfully at everyone who entered.

Christopher immediately stopped and ducked down by a hedge as Daniel swung open the unlocked gates and disappeared inside.

With curiosity giving way to fear,  Christopher reached the gate just in time to see Daniel dismount his bike and enter a thicket which provided an entrance into an old, abandoned corner of the cemetery. Just for a moment, Christopher considered returning home to the warmth of his bed.  Walking his bike and pushing the branches aside, Christopher passed through the thicket which brought him to a clearing.  Just beyond the clearing stood an old mausoleum, partially overgrown by vines and branches.  

Slowly approaching the mausoleum he noticed Daniel’s bike resting alongside of it.  Moving with stealth to the other side, he could now see what appeared to be a flicker of candlelight coming through a tiny stained glass window.  And he could hear the muffled sounds of voices coming from inside.

Slowly removing his cell phone from his pocket, he noticed that it was now a half hour passed midnight.  Crouching low and considering his next move, he did not see the person inching up behind him.  His heart nearly stopped when suddenly he was grabbed from behind, his much taller attacker spinning him around and slamming him into the wall of the mausoleum.  Fearing for his life, he now looked into the face of his attacker.  With her dark eyeliner, spiked red hair and black hood, she presented a terrifying figure in the moonlight until she said . . . .

“Chris?  Chris Mills? Dude! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Maybe I should just leave,” Christopher said as Isabel Stone, also a junior at the high school, now led her prey into the mausoleum.

Standing there in the dim light were two other students from school--Daniel Sloane and Dylan Tyne, Daniel’s best friend.  

“Dudes!  Look who we have here!” said Isabel, Daniel’s girlfriend, the third member of this unholy trinity.  

Christopher now stood facing the three of them, as if he were a defendant facing a panel of judges.  This inseparable group of three were variously known at school as the three goths, the three weirdos, the three outcasts.  Each day they could be seen eating their lunch together at a remote table in the cafeteria.  During recess, they would huddle in a corner so that others could not hear their conversations.  

Dylan Tyne was the leader of the group.  Tall, gaunt, with pale skin and dark eyes, Dylan was a strangely charismatic, intimidating presence.  The son of a single mother who was a religious fanatic, Dylan was rumored to have recently killed a neighbor’s pet.  Daniel, Dylan’s best friend since middle school, was more of a follower.  And Isabel, with her black fingernails, short skirts and piercings was obsessed with the novels of Anne Rice.  

All dressed in black, the three goths were an imposing group.  

“So, what are you doing here?” Dylan asked, his question sounding like an interrogation.  “How did you find us?” he asked, his voice menacing.

“Daniel and I live next door to each other,” said Christopher.  “For months, I’ve watched him leave his house in the middle of the night.  I became curious as to where he was going.”

“I’m prepared to tell you,” said Dylan.  “But, in return, you must promise not to utter a word of this to anyone.  I need you to keep this all a secret."

Christopher readily promised.  He complied, in part, because deep down, he wanted to belong. Short, overweight, with red hair and freckles, Christopher Mills was having a difficult first year at Coastal High School.  Bullied by the jocks in gym class, Chris Mills was just looking to make some friends.  Sitting alone at lunch, he had noticed Daniel, Dylan and Isabel talking together during lunch and recess.  He often wondered what secrets were passing between these three familiar, yet mysterious people.

Having accepted his promise of secrecy, Dylan Tyne now spoke.  “So, you’ve wondered what we’re all about.  We are followers of Satan, Lord of the Universe.  We come to this place to invoke his presence and to meditate on ways we can serve him.  We dress in black and meet in cemeteries, as an outward sign of our devotion to Satan and our rejection of everything that is Christian.”

“I see,” said Christopher.  “So how would a person go about joining your group?”

“To join us you would have to renounce your Christian faith.,” said Daniel.  “Then you would have to offer your life and soul to the Prince of Darkness.  And you would also have to accompany us as we carry out a few dark deeds.”

“Like what?” Christopher asked.

“We will inform you at the time.” said Dylan

“And if I do all these things?” Christopher asked.

“If you do all these things then there will be one final deed you will have to carry out on your own.” said Dylan.

“What is that?”  he asked.

“We will tell you when the time comes.”

“I get it,” Christopher said.

“Take time to think about it,” said Isabel.  “We’re not into pressuring people into joining us.  We intend to remain a small group.  If you want, you can join us for lunch at school.  Then you won’t have to sit alone.”

Dylan then asked Christopher to leave so that they could hold their meeting.  He directed him to take a different route home and reiterated that there would be serious consequences if he were to tell anyone about what he had heard and seen.

Grabbing his bike, he followed Dylan’s instructions and rode home by another route.  Slipping back into his house unnoticed, Christopher Mills went straight to bed.

The next morning, Christopher woke up groggy and preoccupied with the events of the night before.  He tried to come to terms with what had been revealed by the would be satanists.  Having been sworn to secrecy, he now had no one to speak with about this strange experience and the choice he now faced as to whether he would join this little clique.  For the moment, he decided to accompany Dylan, Daniel and Isabel on the first of their “deeds.”  

At lunch time, Christopher sat alone, as usual.  Seeing him sitting by himself, Isabel came and asked if she could join him.  Having Isabel’s company made him happy,  but it also made him feel self-conscious.  Isabel’s sitting with Christopher did not go unnoticed by the school gossips.  Within minutes, the unlikely pairing of  a well known goth and a younger, red haired cherub lit up social media.  As they ate, Isabel informed Christopher that their group had planned to meet at midnight the following Sunday to plan the first of their deeds.  If he wished to join them, he would need to come to the meeting.  “I hope to see you Sunday, Chris,” said Isabel as she left to go to her next class.

When Sunday came, Christopher placed his bike on the side of the house so that he could make his escape easily.  He set his cell phone alarm to wake him up on time.  Just before midnight, he put on a black hoodie and left, taking back roads to the cemetery.

Dylan met him at the entrance to the mausoleum and invited him in.  Before their meeting began, Dylan presented Christopher with a prayer for Christopher to memorize. He was to recite it each morning, afternoon and evening--a prayer of dedication to Satan.

The prayer concludes:

I am yours whether I serve you willingly or not

For I am myself, whether I am true to myself or not

Of my own free will I now acknowledge your power

Of my own free will I now present myself to you.

The group of four recited the words together, as they stood encircled by an array of  flickering black candles. Their worship ended, they now planned the first of the deeds which would involve smashing tombstones in a newer part of the cemetery.  Dylan reported that he had surveilled the new section and had not seen any police patrols between the hours of midnight and 2 a.m.  Based on his surveillance, the group decided to carry out the smashing of grave stones the following Sunday beginning at midnight.  While it would not be possible to topple the larger monuments, the team of four could do a considerable amount of damage to many of the smaller, newer ones.  Dylan would bring a couple of crowbars in his car to help push over the stones and to smash religious symbols.  

“So, are you in?” Daniel asked Christopher.

“I’m in!”  Christopher answered.

The group of four planned to meet during recess at school to fine tune their plan.

At recess that week, they discussed the importance of each of them taking different routes to the cemetery so as not to attract attention.  They would rely on moonlight to provide them with the only available light.  They planned to work in silence, with a minimum of conversation.  Their intent was to work rapidly, staying in the cemetery no more than a half hour.  If anyone were to arrive they would quickly leave the cemetery, each taking a different way home.  

That Sunday night, they arrived as planned, hiding their bikes next to the large monuments.  As luck would have it, a coastal fog had rolled in a hour earlier, adding an unexpected layer of protection for their misdeeds.  The fog was so dense, in fact, that you could not see the cemetery from the street.

To begin, they spied a row of newer stones, each about 4 feet tall.  Three of them could rock and push them over with ease.  As they had hoped, the stones split apart when they hit the ground.  Sending Isabel out to the gate as a lookout, the three boys managed to topple a number of stones, rocking them until they fell and shattered.  Using the crowbar as a bat, they also smashed images and statues of the Virgin Mary, St. Joseph and St. Michael.  Then Isabel, who also served as time keeper, arrived back to say it was time to leave.  With disciplined dedication, they grabbed their bikes and sped off into the mist, each going in a different direction.

Christopher arrived home just before 1 a.m.  He carefully placed his bike at the side of the house, and taking off his sneakers, he tiptoed inside.  As he approached the stairs to his room, he saw his mother sitting at the top of the stairs.

“Do you mind telling me where you have been?” asked Pam Mills, Christopher’s mother.

Caught red handed, he coughed and stammered, his heart racing.

“I’m sorry, mom.  I was at my friend Dylan’s house.  We played video games and had some popcorn.”

“At midnight?  Seriously?  And how did you get so dirty?”

“I fell riding my bike,” Chris said.  “I can be a little clumsy at times.  I got a little muddy.”

“And you didn’t think to ask my permission?”

As a single parent working two jobs, Pam Mills didn’t need any more stress in her life.  She reminded her son that he had to be in by 9 p.m. on weekdays and by 10 p.m. on the weekends.  Then she sent him to bed and, exhausted from the day, she immediately went to sleep.

As she drove Christopher to school the next morning, news of the desecration at the cemetery came on the local radio.

“Who would do such a thing?” asked Pam Mills.

“Don’t know, mom,” Chris Mills said.  “Certainly not anyone I know.”

“It’s horrible, just horrible,” Pam said, as they arrived at school.

As the school day began, news of the vandalism spread.  The headline story in The Shore News began:

Sometime overnight, vandals smashed tombstones and destroyed religious statues in a senseless rampage at the Help of Christians Cemetery.  Some twenty tombstones were destroyed, together with various statues.  At present, local police have no suspects and are asking for the public’s assistance.  Families of the bereaved are offering a reward of $5000.00 leading to the arrest of the persons responsible.  Police have increased patrols at all local cemeteries in the wake of this tragic event.

Still shaken from the confrontation with his mother and concerned by the news headlines, Christopher Mills went through the day distracted.  The brief elation of the night before had given way to fear of being caught.

At recess that afternoon, the four neophyte satanists discussed the need for a new meeting site, given the increased police presence at the cemetery.  For the time being, they would meet in the detached garage behind Dylan’s home.  Chris described being caught by his mother.  Isabel shared that Dr. Levine, her science teacher had asked her directly if she knew who was responsible for the cemetery vandalism.  This got the group’s attention as Dr. Levine had asked her previously about the activities of the school’s little group of Goths.

Theodore Levine was a handsome man who dressed in Oxford shirts and bow ties.  He was very popular with both faculty and students.  He had the gift of intellectual curiosity, a gift he generously passed on to his students.  It was that curiosity which now concerned Dylan Tyne.  Why had Dr. Levine asked Isabel that question, he wondered.  Did he suspect their involvement?  The thought made him uneasy.  As their huddle ended, they decided to meet the next Sunday night at Dylan’s garage.  At that meeting, they would plan their next deed.  For the remainder of the week, they decided not to be seen in each other’s presence.

When Sunday night came, the group of four slipped unnoticed into Dylan’s garage.  By the light of a single candle, they spoke in whispers so as not to attract attention.  Since they had not spoken in days, each took a few moments to update the group.  Dylan shared that he expected the additional police patrols at the cemeteries to decrease over the next two weeks.  Daniel shared his relief that the police seemed to have no suspects.  Chris said that he had memorized the prayer Dylan had given him.  Isabel said she had missed their daily lunches.

Dylan then announced that their next deed would be to burn bibles.  His plan was to enter the local Baptist Church, turn off their surveillance cameras and then stack the bibles in a pile in the church’s backyard, which was not visible from the street.  Once stacked in a pile, Daniel, Isabel and Chris would leave.  Dylan, remaining behind, would then set fire to the Bibles.  Before he departed the church, his plan was to place a copy of the Satanic Bible on the altar.  

Daniel then spoke up and suggested that since Chris is the group’s apprentice that he be the one designated to stay behind and light the fire.

“What do you think about that?” Dylan asked Chris.

“No problem!”  Chris said.  “I’ll use lighter fluid, a few matches and I’ll be on my way.”

The last item on their agenda was the need to get consecrated communion hosts so that they could conduct their first Black Mass.

“How can we get hosts already consecrated by a priest since in most Catholic churches they are kept under lock and key?” asked Daniel.

“Who here was raised Catholic?” Isabel asked.  Ironically, all four raised their hands.

“There is a way to get them without breaking into a church,” said Chris.  “All we need to do is go to Mass, go up to communion, and when the priest places the host in our hand we pretend to put it in our mouth but instead we slip it onto a pocket on our way back to our seat.  It’s foolproof!” he said.  “We used to do it as a prank when we were kids!”

“Excellent idea!” said Dylan.

Dylan then designated Chris and Isabel to attend Mass together and to get the needed hosts.

“We’re going to need to dress to blend in when we go,” said Chris.  Isabel said she’d be willing to forego her usual makeup.

The plan for the following weekend was now set.  Isabel and Chris would get the hosts at a Saturday evening Mass and on Sunday they would burn bibles. The Group of Four then ended their meeting.  Having said their Prayer of Dedication, Dylan extinguished the solitary candle as the black-clad conspirators slipped out of the garage into the night.

On Saturday, Isabel and Chris met outside of St. Anne’s Roman Catholic Church.  Christopher hardly recognized Isabel without her spiked hair and dark makeup.  Chris was dressed in a white dress shirt and khaki pants.  They dressed to blend in.

Before they went inside, Chris informed Isabel about the proper way to receive communion.  He reminded her to say, “Amen!” when the priest placed the host in her hand.

When it came time for communion, Chris pretended to partake of the host as he slipped it instead into his pocket.  But when it was Isabel’s turn, she froze when the minister said, “The body of Christ.”  Holding her hand out, she looked the minister in the eye and could not remember what to say. Smiling, she whispered to Isabel, “Say Amen!”

“Amen!” said Isabel.  Red-faced with embarrassment, Isabel took the Body of Christ in her hand and then walked away toward her seat.  The minister watched as the young girl appeared to place the host into her purse.

When the Mass was over, the communion minister spoke to the pastor about the strange incident. “Why would someone want to steal a communion host?” she asked. “Oh, I can think of a number of reasons,” said Father Dunn.

The next morning, it was Dylan’s turn to go to church.  Arriving at First Baptist, Dylan lingered in the hallway until all the members had gone into the Sunday service.  He then slipped into the church office.  On the secretary’s desk was the surveillance unit, displaying several security screens.  Keeping the unit on, he ejected the disk used for recording and placed it under some papers in the trash.  Then he located a rarely used side door in the fellowship hall.  Placing a pen into the door frame to keep it ajar, he slipped into the back pew for the remainder of the service.  The stage was now set for the Bible burning.

Later that night, the Group of Four slipped into the side door.  Dylan led them to the shelves where the Bibles were stored.  Each grabbed as many as they could, fashioning them into a pyre in the back yard.  In a matter of minutes, they completed their work.  Dylan then placed a copy of the Satanic Bible on the altar and directed Daniel and Isabel to leave.

As soon as Dylan, Daniel and Isabel were out of sight, Chris lit the pyre from the bottom and from a safe distance watched as the Bibles lit up the night.

The next morning, with news of the Bible burning spreading through the community, the local police held a meeting with religious leaders. Present were Father Damien Dunn of St. Anne’s, Rev. Tom Wilkinson of First Baptist and Pastor Jillian Baker of Atonement Lutheran.  The discussion was led by detective James Kennedy.

“As bad as the Bible burning was last night” Kennedy began, “we now know who we’re dealing with, as the perpetrators left their calling card--a Satanic Bible.  We appear to be dealing with a local satanic cult, determined to carry out anti-religious, anti-Christian acts.”

“So, do you think that the group who burned the Bibles was the same group who vandalized the cemetery?” asked Rev. Wilkinson.

“It’s very possible and I think likely,” Kennedy replied. “They’re smart, methodical, young, anti-authority types.”

“Are we dealing with adults? Teens?” Rev. Baker asked.

“I’m thinking teenagers, based on the bike tracks and footprints we observed in the cemetery,” said Kennedy.

“So, where do we begin looking?” asked Rev. Wilkinson.

“It’s possible that one or two of them attended our 5 p.m. Mass Saturday night,” said Fr. Dunn.  “After Mass, one of our communion ministers told me that she gave communion to a teenage girl who did not seem to know how to receive communion.  She got flustered when she forgot to say Amen.  Then she carried the host back to her seat and appeared to place it in her purse.  I mention that because satanic cults often used consecrated hosts in their rituals, like the Black Mass.”

“Did the girl look familiar?” asked Kennedy.

“I don’t think so but you probably want to speak to the minister yourself,” said Fr. Dunn. “The minister also mentioned that the girl was sitting with a boy who had red hair.  He seemed to know how to receive communion.”

“She’s one observant person,” said Kennedy.  “She should have been a detective!” he added.  “I will speak to her today.”  Kennedy added that he would speak to his contacts at the high school and the local community college about students who seemed to be anti-establishment types.

While their meeting was coming to a close, the Group of Four were sequestered away in the school cafeteria.  Unaware of the progress that had been made in identifying them, Dylan now announced that they would be returning to a section of the cemetery where local lore had it that satanic rituals had been performed in the 1970’s.  His plan was for them to contact the spirits of the dead using a ouija board.  As Dylan spoke, Isabel began to look distressed.

“What’s wrong with you?”  Dylan asked.

“Ive heard that bad things can happen when you use a ouija board.  I once saw a video of a girl who became possessed after playing with one.” “Nonsense!” said Dylan.  “There’s nothing to be afraid of.  But, if you’re that worried you and Daniel can watch while Chris and I contact the spirits.”

“OK,” said Isabel.  “I’ll watch the first time.”

Dylan then asked Isabel to bring a candle, some sage and incense.  He would bring the ouija board he had found in his attic.  They would meet the next night in the cemetery, just after dark.  

With that, the bell rang for the next class.  As Isabel and the others stood up to leave the cafeteria, she spotted the woman who had given her communion on Saturday night seated at a nearby table with her priest, the principal and Doctor Levine.  As she left the cafeteria, she looked away as she passed near them.  “What could they possibly be doing here at school?” she wondered.

As the Gang of Four went to their next class, the communion minister positively identified Isabel and Chris as the people who had been to Mass.  Father Dunn then passed on the information to Jim Kennedy, the Chief of Police.  Later on that day, the police named the Gang of Four as “persons of interest” in the cemetery vandalism and the Bible burning.  Due to the fact that they were minors, the police decided to withhold this information from the press and the public, while watching the group’s movements carefully.

As darkness fell, The Gang of Four arrived at an older section of Help of Christians Cemetery.  Grainy photos still existed which showed evidence of satanic rituals which had taken place there, among graves dating back to the 1600’s and 1700’s.  This location would be a perfect setting for a horror movie, Daniel thought as he arrived.

Isabel, unable to shake off her dis-ease, did as Dylan asked and brought a candle, the sage and incense.  Dylan arrived with the ouija board and a small voice recorder which he placed on the board.  Chris was the last to arrive.

In silence, Dylan set up the board, placing the candle, sage and incense near it.  Dylan and Chris sat facing each other, hovering over the board, their fingertips resting on the planchette.  The cemetery was eerily still.  There was not a breath of wind.  There was no sound, except the occasional whining of the resident crows.  

“This is creepy!” Daniel whispered to Isabel.  “Yes, it is!” Isabel said, feeling a rising sense of unease.

To begin the ritual, Dylan and Chris moved the planchette three times clockwise to awaken the spirits.  “Hello!  Is there anyone here?” asked Dylan.  Dylan now turned on the voice recorder placing it on the board.

“Anybody here?  Any spirits who wish to communicate with us?” 

Silence.

Now Dylan asked Isabel to light the incense.  The sweet fragrance encircled them, spiraling upward, filling the place with unholy smoke.

“Any spirits?”

All eyes were now riveted to the board as the planchette moved from its neutral center to “yes.”  

“Are you friendly?” asked Dylan.

Again, another yes.

“What is your name?” asked Dylan.

After a long pause, the planchette moved to the letters, N.O.A.H.  

“Noah?  Are you Noah?”

If Noah was present, the spirit did not answer.  After several frustrating minutes, Dylan and Eric moved the planchette to “goodbye” so that they could begin again.

Placing their fingertips once again on the planchette, they again moved it three times clockwise to begin.

“Is anyone here?” asked Dylan.

Silence.

“Are there any spirits?”

Suddenly there came a icy chill in the air, the air temperature dropping 20 degrees without the slightest wind.  As they began to freeze, Daniel glanced at Isabel and mouthed, WTF?  When they spoke, they could now see their breath.

“Are there any spirits?” Dylan asked again.

The planchette once again moved to “yes.”

“Who are you?”

Silence.

“Do you wish us harm?” he asked.

All eyes were now fixed on the planchette as it moved once again to “yes.”

“What is your name?”

“B.E.E.L.Z.E.B.U.L.”

“Beelzebul?”

“Beelzebul.  We are legion. We are an army!"

At this, the candle blew out, leaving the four in total darkness.

“ Let’s go!” said Isabel.  “Let’s get the hell out of here!” she said, clearly spooked.

Dylan and Chris quickly moved the planchette to “goodbye.”  The candle, incense and sage fell on the ground as Dylan rushed to place the board in his backpack.  Not stopping to pick the things up, they hopped on their bikes and sped away, each returning home by a different route.

Dylan rode his bike as fast as he could.  He tore down Asylum Road with abandon.  As he approached Main Street he inexplicably did not look to see if there were any cars approaching the intersection.  As if blinded, he sped straight into the intersection never noticing an eighteen wheeler approaching.  Driving like a person possessed, he was broadsided by the truck, the impact killing him instantly.  The force of the collision shredded his backpack, leaving the ouija board and voice recorder intact along side his mangled body.

Chris,who was well ahead of Dylan--and unaware of his fate--made it home in record time.  Tired from her day, his mother was already asleep when he arrived home.  Frightened by the night’s events, he did not notice the lights flickering as he climbed the stairs to his room.

Lying on his bed, he was unable to sleep.  He kept replaying his encounter with the demons over and over again.  Each time he was about to fall asleep, he would hear noises coming from downstairs, as if someone were opening and slamming the door.  Getting out of bed and walking through the house, he could not find anything out of place.  But as soon as his head hit the pillow, the noises began again.  Finally, around dawn, he fell asleep, only to be awakened a half hour later by the sound of a door slamming.  When he got up, he noticed that his cell phone, which he had placed on his bedside table, had blown all the way across the room and was lying on the floor.  Feeling exhausted and sick, he begged his mother to let him stay home from school.  

Just after 9 a.m., Jim Kennedy knocked at Chris’ door.  As his mother had already left for work, Chris was home alone.

“Are you Chris Mills?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Chris, unnerved to see a policeman at his door.  “I’m Jim Kennedy from the police department.”

“Are you friends with Dylan Tyne?”

“Yes.  We both go to the high school.”

“ We’re you with Dylan last night?” Kennedy asked.

“Yes, Chris said.  “We hung out together for awhile.”

“At the cemetery?” Kennedy asked.

“Yes, said Chris.”  “Did you know that Dylan was hit by a truck and killed?” said Kennedy.

Shaking all over, Christopher Mills became mute.  “No,” he said, his voice trembling.

“Witnesses said he didn’t look to see if there were cars coming when he turned onto Main Street.  He sped up and aimed for the truck.  “What?” said Chris.  “Dylan was always so careful with everything.”

“Next to his body we found a ouija board.  Do you know anything about this?”

“Yes,” said Chris.  “We played with it last night for awhile.  And then we went home.”

“Were Isabel and Daniel with you?”

“Yes,” said Chris, reluctantly. “But, playing with a ouija board is not a crime, is it?” 

“No,” said Kennedy.  “But smashing gravestones and burning Bibles is.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” said Chris.  “So I need to ask you to leave or I’ll call my mom.”

“Fair enough,  Chris,”  Kennedy said.  “Here is my card if you happen to remember anything that will help us understand what happened.”

“OK,” said Chris.

“By the way, why are you not going to school today?” asked Kennedy.

“I’m just not feeling too well, “ said Chris.

As soon as Jim Kennedy left, Chris texted Isabel and Daniel:

Dylan is dead.  Hit by a truck riding home from the cemetery.  The police r on to us!

By the end of the day, Chris, Daniel and Isabel were brought to the police station and questioned individually about Dylan’s death, the cemetery vandalism and the Bible burning.  Spooked by all that had happened and absent their leader, all three confessed to everything that had happened.  In the legal proceedings that followed, Chris, Isabel and Daniel were spared jail time, each receiving two years probation and 300 hours of community service.  The community service was to be carried out at First Baptist and St. Anne’s Roman Catholic Church.  

In the days immediately following Dylan’s death, Isabel became acutely depressed.  Her parents brought her to a psychiatrist who prescribed antidepressants.  For a time, they feared she might take her life.

Daniel was the least outwardly affected.  He did what he could do to support Isabel and Chris.  

Chris’ insomnia worsened.  He continued to hear disturbing noises at night.  At times objects moved in his room.  Due to the stress and upset he had caused his mother, Chris had not told her about these occurrences.  He simply hoped that they would go away.

Chris, Daniel and Isabel were reunited on the day of Dylan’s funeral.  As the procession entered Help of Christians Cemetery, it wound its way to the new section, just yards from where the Group of Four had vandalized the graves.

Father Damien Dunn led the committal prayers.  Isabel read a poem in Dylan’s honor, while Daniel stood expressionless next to her.  Chris, exhausted and fragile, stood close to his mother.

When the graveside service was over, Chris’ mother dropped Chris at home and then drove straight to work.  As Chris entered his house and looked up the stairs, he saw a dark figure all in black hovering at the top of the stairs.  Terrified, he ran out of the house and encountered Daniel just as he was returning home.  Chris begged Daniel to enter the house with him to see if anyone was inside.  Daniel and Chris went in and up the stairs to Chris’s room.  They saw no one.

“Maybe it was your imagination,” Daniel said to Chris.  Daniel and Chris then talked about the funeral and then Daniel went home.

That night, Chris was startled awake when he suddenly realized that  his bed was moving.  Looking over to the window, the dark figure he had seen earlier appeared again.  Terrified, he fled from his bedroom and fell asleep on the living room couch.

“Chris, what’s going on?” asked his mother as she woke him up for school.  “Why did you sleep down here?” she asked.

“Oh, I just felt like it,” he said.

Feeling out of control and desperate, Chris Mills left school after first period and headed to St. Anne’s Church.  He banged on the rectory door, which was opened by Margaret Fitzsimmons, the parish secretary.

“Please, I need to see Father Dunn.  It’s important!  Is he here?” asked Chris.

Sensing his desperation, Mrs. Fitzsimmons told Chris that Father Dunn was in the church and that he was expected back in a few minutes.  She brought him into the kitchen and made him a cup of hot chocolate.

A few minutes later, Father Dunn arrived and came into the kitchen.

“Chris?”

“Father, I need to speak with you.  In private, please.”

“OK.  Let’s go into my office.”

“You seem stressed!” said Fr. Dunn.

“That is an understatement, Father.”

“So, what’s going on?”

“Ever since the night Dylan and I conjured the spirits with the ouija board--the night Dylan died--strange and scary things have been happening.  Not wanting to upset my mother any more than she already is, I have not told anyone.”

“That’s a lot to keep to yourself,” said Dunn. “Tell me what’s been happening.”

“Since the night we awoke the spirits, I have been unable to sleep.  All night, I hear noises just as I am about to go to sleep.  I hear doors opening and slamming shut.  The lights in the house flicker.  I get up, walk through the house.  I see nothing.  I put my cell phone at my bedside table and by morning it’s moved clear across the room, resting on the floor.  Other things have moved as well.  Then the day of the funeral I came home and saw a dark figure at the top of the stairs.  And now my bed has begun to move.”

“Oh, my,” said Father Damien.  “I can see why you are so stressed out.”

“What’s happening to me Father?”

“I think it may be a combination of things.  First of all, you have been through a very stressful time as a member of the Group of Four.  The things you have done have had a terrible effect on all of you.  And, sometimes, when we invite the evil one to come forth, he appears in ways that can be disturbing.”

“Am I possessed, Father?”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Damien.  “But I do think that there is a presence in your home we need to get rid of.”

“You can do that?” 

“I believe so,” said Father Dunn.  “The first thing we need to do is to explain all of this to your mother because she deserves to know and because we need her support.”

That night, after dinner, Father Dunn visited with Chris and his mother.  Chris and Damien told her about what had been happening and the possible reasons why.  Father Dunn then outlined what he planned to do.  With the help of an expert in these kinds of spirit infestations, Father Damien and the senior priest would come to their home to perform prayers designed to expel unwanted spirits.  Damien cautioned that doing so might require more than one visit.  But he had hope that, in time, this presence would diminish.

Then Father Damien produced the very ouija board that had been found next to Dylan’s body.

“We can start the process tonight by a simple ritual used to do away with ouija boards.  We cut them into seven pieces, sprinkle them with holy water and bury them.  Evil spirits hate holy water, crucifixes and other holy objects,” said the priest.

“OK?” 

“OK!” said Chris.

Father Damien, Chris and Pam disposed of the ouija board according to plan.  Father Damien promised to contact Chris and his mother as soon as Father Enrico Rinaldi was available to come to their home.  Father Rinaldi, recently from the Diocese of Rome, was one of the foremost exorcists in the Catholic Church.  Currently living in Vermont in semi-retirement, he had agreed to help the Mills family as a favor to Father Damien, his former pupil.

Enrico Rinaldi was short, bald and frail.  With degrees in theology and psychiatry, he was well equipped to serve as an exorcist.  His face heavily lined, he possessed a wonderfully jovial demeanor.  Despite his age, his mind was razor sharp.  A man of deep faith and saintly character, Rinaldi could look the devil in the eye and not flinch or retreat in his presence.  A week after Father Damien, Chris and Pam had buried the ouija board, Father Rinaldi and Father Dunn arrived at the Mills home to cleanse it of its malevolent presence.

On this first night, Father Rinaldi explained that they would simply visit each room of the house as they would at a typical house blessing.  As Father Damien and Father Rinaldi kissed and donned purple stoles, they gave Chris a crucifix and Pam a lighted candle to carry in the procession.  As Father Rinaldi sprinkled each of them with holy water, he instructed them to ignore and not interact with the demons if they should reveal themselves.

Starting in the living room, Father Rinaldi led them in praying the Our Father and the Hail Mary--prayers which would be repeated in each room. As they made their way through the house, the two priests alternated prayers specific to whatever room they were in. When they entered Chris’ room, the air suddenly became very cold--so cold that they could see their breath, reminding Chris of the night in the cemetery.  As Father  Rinaldi sprinkled holy water, the lights in the room flickered and the objects on Chris’s dresser began to fall on the floor.  Chris held his mother’s trembling hand as Father Rinaldi prayed. . . .

We ask, O Lord God, that you break and dissolve any and all curses, hexes, spells, satanic vows, and pacts, evil wishes, evil desires, traps, lies, obstacles that have been placed upon this house and those who live here.  Rebuke these evil spirits and cast them away that those who live here may live in their home unmolested to live according to your will and to your greater glory.

As he finished this prayer, suddenly the dark figure who had appeared on the stairs the morning of Dylan’s funeral now reappeared, hovering at the window.  Chris shivered as the priest continued. . . .

We take back the ground taken by the Evil One and dedicate it to you Lord and to your glory and purpose.  We ask that you cleanse this place and make it safe from all evil.  We ask you these things, Father, in the name of thy son, Our Lord, Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, One God, forever and ever.  Amen. 

Father Rinaldi concluded the prayers. Then they gathered in the kitchen.

“My God, I have never been so terrified in all my life!  I had no idea that these spirits were in our home,” said Pam, still shaking.

Father Damien now spoke to Chris about the rituals and activities the Gang of Four had done, in an attempt to understand how the demons had entered his life. Chris recalled the demand to renounce his Christian faith and the expectation that he  offer his life to Satan.  He showed the priests and his mother the prayer he memorized and had recited daily.

Then Father Damien spoke bluntly:  “Chris, I’m not a person who believes in pressuring people to do anything.  But it will be much easier to rid you and your house of these spirits if you will at least consider giving Christ another chance.  In recent months you have seen close up what terrible things evil can do.  Dylan is dead.  Isabel is not herself.  Your home and your life are infested with evil spirits.  How about giving the good a chance?”

Speaking to Pam, Father Damien asked, “How long has it been since you both went to Mass?”

“It’s been years, Father,” said Pam.  “At least as far back as the divorce, five years or so.  By the time the weekend gets here I’m simply too exhausted to do anything.  We simply got out of the habit and that was that.” “You’re not alone,” said Father Rinaldi.  “But, Chris, if you were able to get back to Mass, to receive the body and blood of Jesus, that would be the single most powerful thing you could do to drive evil out of our life--more powerful than any prayer we could offer.  All we ask is that you think about it.  We are here to help you both.”

With that, the priests departed, with the promise to return in a week.

During the week, Dylan thought long and hard about what the priests said.  In his mind, he replayed the terrible things that had happened since he joined the Group of Four.  Chris now began to feel a genuine sense of guilt over the broken grave stones and the burned Bibles, and guilt over the terrible tragedy that had befallen Dylan’s family and all the families.  Their flirtation with evil, so exciting at first, had brought only misery.

That Saturday, Chris and Pam went to Mass.  They both felt a bit strange because it had been a long time since they had worshipped together.  Following the Mass, Christopher presented Father Dunn with the host he had stolen on that ill fated weekend.  Father Dunn received it with joy and gladly absolved Christopher for his sin.

Over the months that followed, Father Rinaldi and Father Damien Dunn returned three more times to Chris and Pam’s home.  With each visit, the demonic presence, once so palpable, gradually subsided.  Mother and son knew they had their house back one Saturday when Chris was able to sleep till noon.

The experience brought Chris and Pam closer together.  With two jobs and a soon to be high school senior to raise, Pam’s life remained stressful and challenging.  But, at least now, she had a renewed faith to support her during the difficult times.

After six months of therapy and medication, and with the love and support of friends and family, Isabel gradually improved.  She traded in her goth appearance in favor of high fashion.  Daniel and Isabel broke up during this time, but they agreed to remain friends.

Shortly after his final house blessing, Father Rinaldi died peacefully in his sleep.  He was laid to rest in his native Italy.  The President of Italy and the pope paid tribute to this humble, holy man.

And Christopher, whose name means “Christ Bearer,” accepted an invitation to join the parish youth group.  He finally had a place to belong, which is a good thing.

Steven D. Olson

© 2017