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You are here: Home > Story Shelf > All Authors > Nico Grey > The Exorcism | Nico Grey

The Exorcism

by Nico Grey

Just some forewarning here. This story might prove a little too rough for sensitive souls. It didn't start out that way. And I certainly never intended to take it in that direction. But once I started writing the story, what was happening to one of our poor characters seemed to become increasingly more disturbing. When I arrived at the climax, well, it was almost like I was demon-possessed!

The light outside his bedroom window was beginning to fade as Jimmy finished awkwardly stitching up the hem of the black robe. He examined his work uncertainly, then stood to slip the robe over his head before he shuffled toward the bathroom for a more careful inspection. A critical glance in the mirror there revealed that the robe finally hung properly, no longer dragging on the floor, but also long enough so that the only part of him showing was his sneakers.

He sighed with relief. He had spent more than four hours stitching- the occasional needle accidentally jabbing his finger or palm painfully!- then ripping stitches out because the robe was still too long, or was suddenly and mysteriously too short, only to repeat the process all over again... and again... and again! It had taken five laborious attempts before he figured out that a nine-inch hem produced the desired result.

Jimmy wished that his mother had been home to help him. Her absence might have bothered him more if he wasn't already accustomed to the idea that whenever he needed something done he had to do it himself. Living more than four years with parents who spent as little time at home as possible had driven that lesson home for him long ago.

It still made him feel sad sometimes. At twelve years of age, barely two months since he had started seventh grade at Silver River Middle School, Jimmy was almost completely independent out of necessity. His friends resented parents who constantly hovered about, unnecessarily inserting themselves into the lives of their children and intruding on the independence they had earned as young adults. Jimmy sometimes found himself envying them.

Those friends were all at home now, preparing for an evening of trick-or-treating and Halloween mischief. No doubt they were frustrated by parents setting limits for their evening activities and intruding with unwelcome cautions about their behavior. But at least his friends had parents available to help with last-minute costume adjustments and concerned advice that might be resented and ignored, but was still evidence of parents who loved their offspring and cared enough to do their best to ensure a fun and safe evening for their sons and daughters.

Jimmy sighed again. He glanced around his darkened house, wondering if there would be any "tricks" to clean up in the morning if little monsters became frustrated when, once again, no one answered the doorbell at the Fitzpatrick home with cheerful welcomes and hands full of Halloween treats. He could hear some of the younger children already out and about. A couple of the older ones were out there, too.

From his bedroom window, Jimmy noticed a boy who appeared to be about his own age sauntering down the sidewalk wearing pants about four sizes too big for him with what appeared to be a couple cans of spray paint stashed in side pockets. The costume was complete with a wife beater shirt stretched tight over his upper body- didn't the kid realized that temperatures were forecast to drop well into the forties before the evening was over?- gold bling that festooned his neck, a red baseball cap turned sideways on his head, and a boom box about the size of a Volkswagen balanced on this right shoulder. For a minute Jimmy found himself thinking that it looked like a pretty cool costume. But he was sure glad he didn't have to pull something like that together on his own. The hooded black robe had been hassle enough for him.

Jimmy pulled the hood up over his head. It felt smooth against his face, like silk. But he suspected that, despite appearances, it was probably made of something cheaper. Most things in his life usually were. Maybe it was nylon? He stuffed his bag with the flashlight, candles and lighter he had been asked to bring. Then he waited for his friends to arrive.

He was eager for the adventure awaiting him. But he still couldn't control a small shiver of trepidation. He didn't really understand it. Among his peers it was known that he wasn't afraid of anything, despite being one of the smaller kids in his class. Yet there was something about the evening ahead that stoked both excitement and uncertainty in Jimmy. The loneliness and sense of abandonment that were his familiar spirits gnawed at the feelings of confidence and self-worth that he constructed for himself daily. Anxiety possessed his heart much more powerfully than it had in a long time.

The cool October air was starting to get to Mitchell Grady. That was something he hadn't really considered when planning his Halloween costume. For someone who consistently got the best grades in his class, it was an unusually careless oversight.

Casually strolling up and down the streets of the Antioch Meadow development, he was partially protected from the occasional chill breeze by houses and the few small trees and bushes that lined the streets. But the air was still cold and was threatening to get colder. Mitchell silently rebuked himself for not thinking ahead and making better preparations for the evening.

The problem, he concluded, had to do with his emotions. He had been looking forward so much to this particular evening- to being able to put on a costume and become someone other than his everyday self- that he had stopped planning once he came up with what he considered the perfect costume for his alter ego. It satisfied an unfamiliar emotional need, but he never worked his plan through logically to consider all of the possibilities that might lie ahead. He had been feeling instead of thinking. That was very unfamiliar territory for him.

Mitchell needed an alter ego for the work ahead that night. Making connections with people had never come easy for him; not like math, or science, or English, or history, his solitary exploration of his community and its past, or any of the dozens of academic subjects and interests that had captivated him over the years.

Mitchell had never really minded his limited social life. He had a few friends, or at least associates; people like himself who were much more gifted in the realms of academic intelligence and curiosity, far less so in the realm of social and emotional intelligences; far, far less so. But until recently, it had been enough for him.

On entering seventh grade at the Silver River Middle School, Mitchell had encountered new experiences and new, unfamiliar feelings. He was already very familiar with the feeling of accomplishment at mastering new academic challenges, and the feeling of satisfaction when test results and report cards consistently showed him at the top of his class year after year, after year.

Mitchell was also familiar with feelings of anxiety and fear when confronting social situations and the occasional harsh judgment of his peers. In fact, in most social situations fear habitually possessed Mitchell's body like an unclean spirit. He was accustomed to those feelings and thought he had at least learned to live with them.

What Mitchell wasn't used to was feelings of interest and attraction toward anyone, especially toward one of his peers. Past experience had taught him that interest in other people usually ended badly for him.

One classmate, in particular, had captured Mitchell's attention from the first day of school that year. Mitchell and he had been classmates since they were in kindergarten together. And Mitchell had always felt a distant interest in him, at least more so than he felt toward any of his others peers. But with the start of seventh grade and an environment that was dramatically different from what had become routine in elementary school, Mitchell found himself obsessed with getting to know this boy better. He still didn't understand his feelings, but he couldn't put these thoughts and feelings out of his mind.

In many ways this boy was ordinary. He didn't often stand out in any academic endeavors. He was a good athlete, but not exceptional. He was shorter than most of his classmates- even shorter than Mitchell. His thick, dark hair was habitually tousled and hung an inch or two below his ears. His eyes were a fairly ordinary hazel. He had a rather common face, roundish with a bit of a snub nose, still displaying the soft features of childhood. Many people wouldn't really have noticed him, even though he did have a very appealing smile.

But this boy had a few qualities that made him stand out from his classmates. He was extremely outgoing, appeared comfortable in any social situation, and feared nothing. Had Mitchell been a few years older he might have realized that the boy's personality was compensating for something that was missing in his life. But at twelve, all Mitchell understood is that he really wished that he could be more like this boy.

The other thing the boy possessed was something Mitchell didn't notice until after their first Physical Education class, when they all stepped into the shower for the first time. Mitchell almost turned around and walked straight back out of the shower room, he was so affected by what he saw. He was even more unsettled when the boy's eyes met his. Mitchell thought that the boy had smiled at him, but he wasn't sure whether it was a friendly greeting or the sort of knowing smile that might forebode unpleasantness for Mitchell sometime in the future.

This boy, while shorter than most of his peers, and still fairly slightly built, had a noticeably better-developed physique than the average twelve-year-old. He might not have been completely ripped, but how many twelve-year-olds are? There was still a slight bit of childhood softness apparent here and there. But all of his muscles were developing well and were definitely on display. All of them.

That appealed to Mitchell in ways that he couldn't fully comprehend. He did notice that the boy's muscles stood out more than the rest of their classmates- when he strolled to and from the shower with a towel draped casually around his neck, his butt almost seemed to defy gravity- and he didn't seem to be the least bit uncomfortable standing there naked among almost thirty or forty boys in the locker room. He also didn't appear to be showing off, even if he had ample cause to do so. He was just completely unaffected by the situation. Or maybe not completely unaffected. After all, all of his muscles were on prominent display in the shower.

But no one bothered the boy when he flexed. Maybe the other kids in class didn't really notice. Maybe he was just too well liked by all his peers for the agitated cries of "homo" that might have greeted another boy in the same circumstance. Or maybe seeing the boy in that state wasn't unusual for them. Mitchell didn't usually pay attention to gossip, but he had heard a few things that made him wonder if some of his classmates might not have become familiar with the boy's attributes well before the start of seventh grade.

Mitchell was confused. He didn't really understand his peers' casual attitude toward something that affected him so profoundly. He wasn't sure whether it was the boy's appearance that was captivating or if it was his attitude of supreme confidence in a situation that terrified Mitchell. Whichever the cause, he was overwhelmed by the feelings he had whenever he saw this boy. He became determined to get the boy to notice him. He had to talk to him. He wanted, for the first time in his life, to call another boy his friend. But he had a problem. He was who he was.

He was Mitchell. He was never Mitch and certainly not Mitchy; not to his (few) acquaintances, not to his parents, not even to his grandmother, who really did love him in her austere and emotionally distant way. And Mitchell, while he mostly liked who he was and was proud of his abilities, knew that he didn't possess any qualities that attracted peers in a way that would make them want to be his friend. Because he was Mitchell. If he wanted this boy to be his friend, he would have to become someone else. He was certain of that.

The obstacle appeared insurmountable. Mitchell had spent more than twelve years becoming Mitchell. After all that time he was quite good at being Mitchell. But he had no idea how to be someone else.

It was only several weeks later, when the students around him began talking about the upcoming Halloween dance and going out tricking or treating, that Mitchell began to sense a glimmer of an opportunity. The holiday, with its uninhibited social structure and costumes that concealed individual identity, would be an ideal time for Mitchell to become someone else... at least for an evening. Maybe that someone else, if he were interesting enough, might catch the attention of Mitchell's classmate and open the door on a path toward friendship. Mitchell sure hoped so. Because he didn't see any way that boy would want to become friends with Mitchell.

After careful thought and planning- that somehow never considered the likely Halloween weather- a new personality was born. An alter ego for Mitchell. Someone he hoped might be interesting enough to attract another boy's attention and create an opening that could lead to friendship.

Mitchell didn't consider the Halloween weather, but he was smart enough to recognize that it would take more than a good costume to get someone's attention. There would have to be substance to go with it. A personality. Someone who was both outgoing and cool enough to attract the attention of a cool and outgoing boy.

Mitchell thought he could do it, or at least he hoped that he could. He thought that, hidden behind a disguise, he could focus well enough on being someone else for just one evening to break ancient patterns of behavior and set aside personal inhibitions. And if the first stage of the plan worked, Mitchell thought that maybe his personality could slowly begin to evolve into something that might hold the boy's attention.

And thus Six-Pack Shakur was born.

Mitchell wasn't foolish enough to actually speak the name aloud. Even in lily-white Vermont that kind of cultural appropriation could be enough to earn him a severe beating or three... especially once his tormentors figured out who was doing the cultural appropriating. He also understood that the "Six-Pack" nickname would be viewed as a hilarious conceit. If he skinned the wife beater up to his chest he could just make out the faint outline of a six-pack beneath his pale skin- Mitchell was, after all, despite being a nerd, a fairly active boy in his nerdly pursuits. But most observers would consider it a very scant six-pack and a cause for ridicule if they heard him speak of it out loud. Nonetheless, he did take some mild pleasure in thinking of his alter ego as "Six-Pack".

As the faint glow of twilight faded gently from the sky, "Six-Pack" was strolling up and down the streets of Antioch Meadow- his boombox resting rather heavily on his right shoulder- with an eye on the darkened house halfway down Coolidge Street. He was wondering when his quarry would appear, but also fearing that he might have already gone out for the night.

With each passing minute, Mitchell felt his enthusiasm waver. He knew he had done a great job with the costume, the late October weather notwithstanding. The boom box was loaded with the coolest music and the coolest Halloween special effects on demand, the result of some electronic wizardry and one of his old tablets. He had been feeling the part of Six-Pack and his heart had been filled with hope and confidence. And now his positive vibe was beginning to falter.

The house on Coolidge Street was still dark. There was no sign of life.

Approaching the Antioch Meadow development, Thaddeus Mason and Rocco Messina chatted quietly as they followed in the wake of their coven. They were members eleven and twelve of the group, two of only three twelve-year-olds among the older boys and girls. The other twelve-year-old, Micah Dalton, walked up ahead, several feet behind his older brother Jacob and Jacob's best friend Darren, the leaders of the group. All twelve were dressed almost identically. Each wore a long robe with a hood to cover their head. Nine were dressed in black. The two leaders were robed in dark red. And one member of the group, one of the four girls, was wearing white.

Thad whispered, "Hey, Rocket?" Rocco was known to his friends as Rocket, not Rocky. He was no fighter, but he was awfully fast.

Rocco turned his head so he could see Thaddeus.

"What is this exercise thing supposed to be about tonight?"

Rocco snickered. "It's not an exercise. It's called an exorcism. It's some kind of performance thing." Rocco's family, despite being Catholic, wasn't very religious. But he had overheard his parents talking about an exorcism of Donald Trump a few times and he had asked questions. After his parents finished describing the ceremony and unloading on Rocco about the need to exorcise Trump, he was almost an expert on the subject.

"Is that why they told us to wear these robes?"

"I guess." Rocco's parents had never said anything about needing robes for their Trump exorcism. "Maybe they'll make good costumes if we go trick-or-treating, too."

Thad was quiet for a few paces.

"Why do we have to wear black robes and those guys are wearing red? And why is that Lauren girl wearing a white robe?"

Rocco really wasn't sure. "I guess the red robes are for the leaders. They're older than the rest of us." He puzzled over the rest of Thad's question for a few more seconds. "Maybe the white robe is for a leader, too. Micah said something about one of the girls being the high priestess." The explanation hadn't made sense. But Rocco hadn't worried much about that. It was just cool to be going out on Halloween with his classmate, Micah, and a crowd of older kids.

"Some of this seems like a bunch of religious nonsense," Rocco concluded.

" Religious?" Thad and his family were no more religious than Rocco and his family. He had heard things about religion. But he really wasn't very well informed. "Do you think that maybe she's going to be a human sacrifice?" He contemplated for a few more paces. "You don't think we'll get to see her naked, do you?"

None of Thad's teachers would ever consider describing him as intellectually curious. But he did possess a lurid imagination.

Rocco wasn't sure. He did wonder if it might be possible. As he considered the prospect, he surreptitiously adjusted the way the front of his robe was hanging.

At the front of the coven, Jacob and Darren were engaged in their own quiet conversation.

Darren inclined his head toward Jacob. "Why are we even bothering with these seventh graders, dude? We shouldn't have to be babysitters. You know they're just going to wet their pants and screw things up before the night is over."

Jacob shrugged. "I didn't have any choice, D-Man. I had to let Micah tag along or my parents would have made me stay home. And Micah kept whining about bringing some of his friends. I figured he would stick with them and stay out of my hair."

"Well he's got two of his friends back there and he isn't even hanging with them. Why don't we skip this Fitzpatrick kid and just head straight to the Mansfield House?" Darren muttered. He didn't have any younger siblings and it was one of the few things in his life for which he was grateful to his parents.

" We'll be at his house in just another minute or two," Jacob didn't see any point to the discussion. "Let's just get it over with. He's Micah's friend. And he really is a wild little shit. Micah says he'll be up for almost anything. Besides, you know we need thirteen for the symbolism. We already talked about that."

With an impatient nod of his head Jacob directed the group onward. Coolidge Street was almost in sight.

When Jimmy saw the coven turn onto Coolidge Street he felt a moment of uncertainty. Twelve kids, most of them quite a bit bigger than him, all dressed in strange robes, made for a rather unsettling sight.

He glanced in the hall mirror and saw a kid in the same kind of hooded robe staring back at him. It helped to settle his nerves a bit. Besides, he reminded himself, they asked him to be with them. And he had a reputation to maintain.

He grabbed his bag, squared his shoulders, threw the front door open, and stepped out onto the walkway. He reminded himself to look cool and confident.

As Jimmy fell in at the back of the column with Thad and Rocco, Thad reached out to bump fists with him. "How's it hanging, Fitzy?" he greeted him.

Jimmy grinned. He was almost tempted to show Thad.

Mitchell was lurking near the far end of Coolidge Street when he saw the coven- or whatever it is that you call a bunch of weirdoes in hoods and robes- approaching. He almost took off running in the opposite direction. It really was a disturbing sight.

But just when he had decided that discretion was definitely the better part of valor, he saw the front door of the Fitzpatrick house open and a smallish robed and hooded figure stepped outside.

The costume didn't fool Mitchell. He knew who it was. And for a moment he was deeply torn between following through with his original plan or pursuing a more sensible course of action.

Mitchell really wanted to run. More than seven years in public school had taught him that large groups of peers really didn't make a safe environment for him. But he had seen the small robed figure step out of the Fitzpatrick house. He knew what was under that robe. And he really wanted to see if he and what was under the robe could become friends. He realized that if he bottled out now he might not get another chance to find out until next Halloween. He closed his eyes and thought about scenes from the locker room to give himself courage.

Mitchell watched as the small figure joined two more black figures at the back of the coven. He was starting to feel more brave until the group began moving purposefully again... directly toward him!

For a moment, Mitchell started to lose his nerve again. But, he reminded himself, Six-Pack Shakur wouldn't be intimidated by a gang of kids in robes. He continued to pace nervously at his end of Coolidge Street as Jimmy and the coven approached.

Mitchell was sure that Six-Pack Shakur was too cool to let a bunch of kids in costumes intimidate him. If they were smart, they would be intimidated by Six-Pack. But unfortunately, there was no Six-Pack Shakur waiting for the coven. There was only Mitchell.

"Who's the dweeb?" one of the leaders demanded.

The other figure in red looked him over carefully. "Just another wannabe gangsta," he decided.

Mitchell tried to straighten his shoulders to look menacing... and cool. But mostly he just looked cold.

"Stupid punk needs to decide whether to pull his pants up or down," one of the leaders said as the group surrounded Mitchell.

"Maybe we should take him with us to the Mansfield House," another hooded figure suggested. "If that evil spirit turns out to be really bad-ass we could sacrifice this clown to him." Several figures nodded or growled their agreement.

One of the leaders roughly snatched the Volkswagen from Mitchell's shoulder and tossed it into some nearby bushes. "He can't decide about his pants, so we'll have to decide for him." Several hooded figures held Mitchell while the leader jerked his pants up into a painful wedgie. He shook his head. "That still doesn't look right," he muttered. Mitchell's pants hit the ground... then the bushes.

As the coven flowed around him, Mitchell noticed that his underwear had also gone the way of his pants. He wanted to say something, to rage at them, to unleash his inner Six-Pack. But he was only Mitchell. He covered himself with his hands and struggled to hold back the tears.

A couple female voices giggled as the group passed Mitchell. Hands intruded on his private places. He tried to pull the snug wife beater down to cover and protect himself front and back, for all the good that did him.

The group surged past Mitchell. Suddenly he really wished that Jimmy wasn't there. As the tail of the group went around him, Mitchell noticed that Jimmy looked away. Something about his body language suggested that maybe he wasn't very comfortable with what he had just seen.

Once the coven moved out of sight, Mitchell rooted through the bushes for his clothing and his boom box. He covered his nakedness, but he could feel his shame still on prominent display. As his fear subsided, he felt that familiar emotion replaced with an unfamiliar emotion. Anger.

The coven arrived at the Mansfield House thirty minutes later. Several members eyed the dilapidated two-story farmhouse warily as their pace faltered and they gradually stumbled to a halt. Jacob held up his hand and the group closed ranks behind him at the side of the road. Darren spoke first.

"Any of you pussies planning to chicken out now? Or are you all ready to take out the Manson demon?"

Heads swiveled as members of the coven made uneasy eye contact with each other. The three seventh-graders in the back of the pack huddled closely together.

Their classmate, Micah, cleared his throat nervously in the rank behind the coven's leaders. "Who is this Manson demon anyway? My dad always calls this place the old Mansfield House."

Jacob cut him off quickly. "That's just what the old folks call it so kids don't find out the real story and freak out."

More cautious glances were exchanged.

"We're here tonight to put an end to more than a century of evil," Jacob continued forcefully. "A long time ago, this guy called Charles Manson was born and grew up here. In Antioch. Maybe some of you guys heard something about him in your history class or somewhere."

There were more uneasy glances among the members of the coven and a nod or two.

" Well, Charles Manson was evil, even when he was a kid. When he lived here there were always dogs and cats going missing. I've even heard that a few kids disappeared, but nobody wants to talk about that much. Manson was deformed from birth. And he hated everything that other people liked. So he killed every time he could."

Jacob's audience cast uneasy glances toward the old house. They were shuffling feet and looking about uncertainly.

"When Manson grew up, as soon as they could, Manson's parents threw him out of this house," Jacob pointed dramatically, "and told him to leave Antioch. He left. But he hated his parents for throwing him out and he cursed them and the house when he left. Less than three years later both his parents were dead and no one has lived in this house since then," he concluded ominously.

Several in the group exchanged uncomfortable glances as they started to realize that there might be more to the evening's adventure than they had bargained for. Jacob raised both his hands in a theatrical gesture to attract their attention.

"When Manson left Antioch he went to California," Jacob continued. "San Francisco. He felt right at home there. He hung out with all sorts of evil people. Even queers." Darren's head whipped around and he stared at Jacob apprehensively.

" After doing all the evil he could do in San Francisco," Darren continued to look at him with concern, "Manson went to Los Angeles. He brought a bunch of friends with him. They all hated the movie stars and stuff that lived there. So one night he and a bunch of his friends killed a lot of them. It was this really bloody and horrible thing. It was all over the news.

" When the police finally caught Manson he just laughed at them. He thought he was too evil for the cops to do anything. But they put him in jail. They wanted to fry him- like turn him into a huge, evil barbecue- but they couldn't. So they just kept him and his friends locked up.

" And every year, Manson and his friends tried to make the cops let them go. But people were too scared and they kept Manson in jail for the rest of his life. He was there almost one hundred years, a lot longer than ordinary people can even live, making his evil plans, before he finally died."

The body language among the coven suggested relief, but Jacob wasn't quite through.

" When he died about five years ago, Manson's vengeful spirit flew back here to Antioch. To his home. It's been there, in this house, drawing all the evil in the surrounding area here to him. And lately he returned to his evil ways. Dogs and cats are going missing. I've even heard that some second grader disappeared over the summer."

One of the girls in the coven raised her hand timidly. "If you mean Aiden Granger, my little brother was in school with him. We heard that Aiden and his family actually moved away at the end of last school year."

" That's what the old folks want us to believe," Jacob cut her off firmly. "They don't want us to know that there's evil back in our midst. But it was Manson! And that's why we're here tonight!" He looked around the entire group, making eye contact with those willing to look at him. "We have to protect Antioch from this evil. We have to protect Antioch before it does something even worse than the things that Manson did while he was alive."

"Ho-leee shit!" Thad whispered to Rocco and Jimmy. "I'm not sure we should be doing this!"

"What did you girls say?" Darren snarled. He turned to Jacob. "I thought you said those pussies could handle this. Well your brother is standing there in a puddle of his own piss and it smells like one of his little girlfriends just crapped his pants!"

Before Jacob could respond, Micah's rigid body whipped around and he stalked back to the other three twelve-year-olds. "You jerks better not screw this up," he barked. "Tonight is going to be so cool and you assholes are ruining it!"

Jacob took control again as the rest of the coven looked at each other awkwardly. Eye contact was established briefly, then broken just as quickly.

"There's nothing for you kids to be afraid of," he assured everyone. "Manson is evil and a powerful demon, but there are thirteen of us. That's a mystical number, perfect for this ceremony. And Darren and I know what has to be done to destroy it. Now before we go in, let's check one more time to make sure everyone brought what we asked you to bring."

One-by-one the members of the coven reached into their bags and displayed: chalk and crayons, candles, lighters, rope, tape, flashlights, knives, rosaries, two bibles and a crucifix. Darren motioned toward his bag and shook it. A heavy sound of glass clinking together signified that he had brought the bottles he had promised to contribute. Jacob did a quick survey of the group and nodded his satisfaction.

" We stay together as a group when we go in. We're going to go through the entire house first, make sure there aren't any surprises, and then we're going to pick the best room for the exorcism." His eyes scanned the group again. "It isn't important that we all know the full ceremony. Lauren will give you the prayers you need to say when we are ready to start. Your job is just to do what we tell you and to say those prayers like you believe your life depends on it when we tell you to start praying. That's what will make them powerful enough to defeat a demon."

There were more apprehensive looks exchanged among the group, but nobody balked when Jacob ordered, "Let's go!"

After years of abandonment, the front door yielded readily when they set their weight against it. The group entered the house uneasily. A small figure observed silently from the distance.

"Okay!" Jacob called a brief halt after everyone was assembled in the entry hall. He turned to face them. "This is going to be a long night. We'll need to keep our strength up. We all collected plenty of candy on our way here. Just make sure that you put wrappers back in your bags if you eat anything. We don't want to leave something that belonged to one of us lying around for the demon to use for its evil purposes. We don't want to give him any advantages when it comes time to confront him."

Jacob made sure that everyone had heard his message, then he turned to look back down the house's main corridor. There was a stairway leading up at the far end of the hall and two or three doors on each side before they would get to the stair. The hall wasn't empty. There were old photographs and paintings lining the walls, a couple of chairs near the front door with a small desk nearby, and what appeared to be a small table near the foot of the stairs.

Jacob gestured down the hall, using his cell phone to light the way. As the group passed doors on either side of the hall, he or Darren would open the door and briefly scan what was behind the door. There was a formal dining room on one side of the hall and a drawing room opposite it, a basket of split wood sitting undisturbed next to the fireplace. Farther down the hallway there was a kitchen and a study located on either side of the passage. There was a bathroom just beyond the study. The rooms appeared to be mostly furnished and the furniture was still in reasonably good condition. A pen and dusty stationary was laid out next to the wireless telephone that stood in its cradle on the small table just before the stairway.

Jacob and Darren followed the passage past the stairway until it ended at a window that had been boarded up. Through cracks in the boards they could make out moonlight shining on the back yard of the property. Micah followed officiously behind them and slid open a small panel in the wall under the staircase. Jacob turned to snap at him, but his eyes widened in surprise.

"Holy shit! There's a hidden passageway behind the stairs! This old house might be full of them!"

Micah started to dive into the crawlspace behind the panel. Jacob grabbed his arm and jerked him back.

"Don't be an idiot, Micah! That's playing right into the demon's hands! We can't protect each other in a narrow passage."

Micah appeared chagrined as Jacob closed the panel and sealed it carefully with a piece of duct tape.

"Don't anyone touch that tape! If it's gone when we get back, we'll know that something came through here," Jacob admonished. "Now let's head up the stairs and find out what's up there."

The group climbed the stairs cautiously, Jacob and Darren leading the way. The upper level of the house didn't look much different than the lower level. A long corridor ran the full length back toward the front of the house. There were two doorways on one side of the hall, three on the other, and a closed door waited for them at the far end of the corridor.

A cursory inspection behind the doors to either side of the corridor revealed what appeared to be three bedrooms, a library, and a rather old fashioned bathroom with a claw foot bathtub. Several of the rooms had panels set discreetly in the walls or inside a closet, suggesting that there were more hidden passageways to be discovered. The rooms were all furnished but didn't appear to have been inhabited for a long time. They found it a bit unsetting to observe places where dust and clutter looked to have been more recently disturbed.

The door at the far end of the hallway proved most intriguing. It was latched and it took several minutes of their combined efforts to tease the latch open. Behind the door a dusty stairway led upward. Several members of the group exchanged uncertain glances.

"It just leads to the attic," Jacob assured them confidently. He started up the stairs and the group followed cautiously behind him. Every few steps the tired, old wood screeched in protest and several sensitive bladders almost emptied in surprise the first time the treads felt like they were shifting beneath them. Jimmy, Rocco and Thad trailed behind, occasionally exchanging uncertain glances. It really felt like it would be a clever demon trick to collapse the ancient stairway behind them and trap them all in the attic.

The stair ended in an open area with three-foot high walls giving way to a sloped ceiling. The space ran about half the length of the house. Judging from the furnishings, it might have served as the bedroom for a boy at one time.

There was a door in the middle of the far wall that was locked and stubbornly refused to give way to any of the group's efforts to open it. As they debated how they might defeat the obstacle, they were distracted by a dull, intermittent thumping sound that seemed to be coming from somewhere below them.

"It's probably just a loose shutter banging in the wind," Jacob silenced the nervous reactions. "We'll find it when we go down to check out the cellar, but it's nothing to worry about."

Several of the younger kids appeared skeptical. The three twelve-year-olds were huddled in a tight group near the top of the stairs, and Micah's body language suggested that he might be thinking about joining them.

Darren was sneering openly at their lack of courage, but the rest of the coven was wavering, too. Jacob, a good leader, sensed the mood of the room and took charge.

"Let's head down now. We can find that loose shutter and scope out the cellar. Once we know what the rest of the house looks like, we can come back and figure out what's behind that door."

Micah looked relieved, but he had his reputation to consider. "We can probably get to the other side of the door through the hidden passages," he tapped on a discreet panel set in the half-height wall. Suddenly there was a burst of activity and a loud scurrying sound from inside the wall! Several girls- and boys!- shrieked. Near the top of the stairs a high-pitched, creaking sound undulated, increasing then decreasing in volume and pitch for fifteen or twenty seconds until it gradually faded away.

Seven eighth graders in black- and one white- robes clustered together in the middle of the room. "What was that?!" Lauren whispered fearfully as the scurrying sound in the walls appeared to move toward a lower level of the house.

Jacob and Darren exchanged a long glance.

"It's nothing," Jacob decided. "Probably just a small animal or two in the walls."

"How small?" One of the older kids wondered uncertainly. Micah nodded his agreement with the question. He stepped carefully away from the wall panel.

"Mice?" Darren suggested. But he didn't really believe it. They had sounded like awfully big mice.

"Could be a raccoon, maybe a possum," Jacob concluded. "Sometimes houses like this can have rats, too."

That news wasn't very reassuring for a few of the girls. Even Micah's complexion paled a bit, but he was doing his best to put a brave face on it.

"What about that squeaking noise from the stairs?" one of the eighth-grade boys demanded.

Rocco and Thad turned toward Jimmy. His complexion was several shades redder than usual.

"I'm sorry, guys," he offered meekly. "Sometimes candy doesn't agree with my stomach if I get nervous. I won't eat any more tonight. I promise!"

A wave of annoyance and relief spread through the group. Really, it was mostly relief.

"Okay!" Jacob took charge again. "Let's go downstairs... if the air over there is safe," he cast a sharp glance toward Jimmy.

Jimmy hung his head and nodded.

" We'll go down to the kitchen. The door to the cellar is probably in the kitchen or pantry." Jacob skirted carefully around Jimmy and the seventh-graders. He wanted to make sure that he wasn't walking behind them.

As the coven made its way back down to the ground floor, they were pursued by sporadic and unfamiliar noises. It felt like the house was speaking to them. And it didn't sound very friendly.

As they reached the first floor, they turned right into the kitchen. One of the group noticed several large knives lying casually on a countertop. It was hard to be sure, but they really didn't look like they had been there very long.

Jacob took firm control again, leading the group into the attached pantry, where they found a latched door. Behind the door lay a stairway leading down into blackness.

Fumbling with light switches did no good. If Manson's spirit was inhabiting the house, he wasn't keeping up with the electric bill.

Jacob pocketed his cell phone, took a powerful electric lantern out of his bag and turned it on. He suggested that everyone in the group keep their cell phone lights or flashlights on. Taking a deep breath, and not before considering sending Micah down ahead of him, Jacob started down the stairs.

Once his head was below the floor of the ground level, Jacob played the light from his lantern around the open space awaiting. It looked like a fairly ordinary cellar in one of Antioch's older residences. He noticed a fieldstone foundation and a dirt floor. There was a furnace and large heating oil tank in one corner of the room. Nearby was a stall that held a large supply of split logs. There was a workbench and some hand tools tucked into a corner nearby. A pile of stacked boxes filled another part of the cellar. An old washer and dryer stood side-by-side against one wall of the basement, a dead body lying next to them....

Several shrieks rent the air! Jacob checked to make sure one of them wasn't his. Darren looked a bit shame-faced. As the coven milled behind him on the stairs, blocking his escape, Jacob let his lantern play across the dead body again and sighed with relief. It was only a pile of old blankets and clothing.

Jacob's relief was short-lived as a sudden series of squeals and thumps startled the group again. He turned accusingly toward Jimmy. Jimmy looked as frightened as anyone else. When he saw Jacob glaring at him, he shook his head vigorously and pointed upward.

Uncertainly, Jacob cast his light about the cellar one more time. In a far corner, about a quarter of the cellar was walled off and a padlocked door stood solidly in the middle of the wall. He knew that he should investigate, but that padlock sure did look secure. It made a good excuse.

"All right," he announced decisively. "We've seen everything we can down here for the moment. Let's go back upstairs and we'll make our plan."

A wave of relief surged through the coven, except.... those thumps and squeals! The group hurriedly made way for Jacob on the narrow stairway and let him take the lead again.

Back of the ground level, Jacob led the group toward the drawing room. He considered gathering in the formal dining room, around the large table, but decided that the drawing room would give them more floor space if they decided to conduct the exorcism there.

The coven followed Jacob into the room. They formed a circle and waited. The warmth from the fire in the fireplace helped ward off the late-October chill. Jacob started to speak.

The... fire in the fireplace?!

Jacob turned slowly in that direction. Several heads followed his.

"Jee...sus...Christ!" Micah breathed. His mouth opened and closed as he pointed silently.

There was a roaring blaze behind the fire screen. Kindling arranged on the skirt in front of the fireplace spelled out "WELCOME!" The puddle of urine that Jacob noticed forming around Micah's athletic shoes smelled all too real.

Less than half a second later, the group reformed in the dining room. Wary eyes cast about in all directions. Some were glancing anxiously toward the door to the adjacent kitchen, where those menacing knives had been discovered. Several were eagerly eyeing the entrance corridor and the front door of the house, only ten or twelve feet away.

Jacob tried to regain control of the situation. "I don't know which of you clowns thought that prank was funny!" He snapped. But he knew better. All thirteen of them had been together in a group from the moment they entered the Manson House.

Jacob was beginning to feel as unsettled as the rest of the group. But he was determined to accomplish the mission he had set for the evening. He had a reputation to maintain. He was there to perform an exorcism.

"We need to go to the source of evil," he decided. "Follow me!"

The group followed him out of the drawing room, several members casting surreptitious and wistful glances at the front door as Jacob let them down the corridor and back into the bowels of the Manson House. He paused as they passed the telephone and he noticed the crude scrawl across a piece of stationary on the small table: "ENJOY YOUR STAY!"

It was unnerving. But he was on a mission. He pointed back toward the study and the coven cautiously crept through the doorway.

As Micah went to enter the room, Jacob snatched him aside.

"You need to get cleaned up first."

Micah couldn't meet his eyes.

"I don't know if there's running water in the bathroom," he pointed toward the next doorway. "If there isn't, you need to figure something out. Because we aren't going to do this exorcism with you smelling like that!"

Micah's gaze remained cast downward, but he nodded and started toward the bathroom.

"Not like that, you idiot!" Jacob hissed. "Take your little friends with you. None of us can be alone in this house until we destroy the demon." He pulled the other three twelve-year-olds out of the study and pointed toward the bathroom again.

"As soon is Micah gets cleaned up, the four of you come straight back to us. We'll be in this room," he commanded, closing the door on them.

In the bathroom, Micah stood silently out of the way while the others looked around. He still couldn't meet anyone's eye.

Rocco turned the faucet in the bathroom sink and a modest trickle of water flowed from it. A quick glance around the top of the sink revealed a drain stopper and even the stub of an ancient bar of soap. Rocco plugged the drain and opened the tap again. He looked at Micah expectantly.

Micah just shook his head. "I'm not taking my clothes off in front of all you guys," he insisted.

"You gotta," Thad said. "Jacob said you have to get cleaned up and that we can't leave you alone." Rocco cast an appreciative glance in his direction. Thad was rarely that clear and decisive.

"No way," Micah shuddered. "If you guys stay, you have to get naked, too!"

Rocco and Thad just glared sternly back at him, but Jimmy pulled off his robe, then started to remove his clothes.

Micah continued to plead with Rocco and Thad with his eyes, but they were unmoved. With a sigh he removed his robe and started to unbutton his pants.

"Thanks, Fitz," he murmured.

"Oh, Paddy enjoys any excuse to get naked," Rocco chuckled.

It may have been true. Jimmy was already starting to look rather excited.

" Can you guys find any wash cloths and towels around here?" Micah asked. He figured that would be helpful. Besides, it was time for his underwear to come down and he really felt uncomfortable with his friends staring at him.

Jimmy rummaged through the room but there were no linens; not even any paper towels or toilet paper.

"If you want, you can use my socks to wash up," he offered. "I put them on clean just before you guys picked me up. And maybe you can use your shirt to dry off. It didn't get wet." He shrugged.

That brought a new problem to Micah's attention. "Shit! What am I gonna do? All my clothes with still be wet."

"That's no big deal." Rocco was a fountain of helpful advice. "Dry out your shoes as best you can, then go commando under your robe. We can dry the rest of your clothes out in front of the fire."

And that really got Micah's attention! "The haunted fire!" His eyes were huge and he looked like he was ready to evacuate his bladder again.

"Jesus, Micah," Rocco snapped. "It's the only way they'll get dry enough to wear. And if the ghost steals you clothes, you can still walk home in your robe."

"I can't be naked," Micah whined. "What if somebody pulls up my robe?"

"It's no big deal," Jimmy offered. "I'll go commando with you."

The offer was somehow calming. Micah's anxious expression eased. He smiled faintly. "Thanks, Fitz. But you shouldn't have to. This is all my fault." He pulled Jimmy into a brief hug. Rocco and Thad looked away uncomfortably.

Micah washed, wiped himself dry with his shirt, then used it to dry his sneakers out. After giving the shirt a brief rinse with the rest of his clothes, he put his robe and hood back on, collected his wet clothing, and started toward the drawing room.

"Hang on!" Rocco commanded. "We shouldn't go down there without letting Jacob know what we're doing!"

Micah shuddered. "I'm not telling him. If he knows my clothes are drying in there, he's more likely than the demon to steal them. And if he knows I'm going commando...." He let the thought trail off uncomfortably.

Micah and the rest of the twelve-year-olds rejoined the coven in the study.

"It took you long enough," Jacob snarked. "It's isn't like your little thing should take very long to clean."

Micah hung his head and moved closer to Jimmy.

"So what are we doing now?" Jimmy demanded.

Jacob and Darren exchanged an annoyed glance. It was the first time they had heard Jimmy speak except when responding to a direct question.

Jacob drew himself up and tried to look commanding.

" Manson is here," he declared. We need to prepare ourselves to confront him. He pointed toward Darren. "D-Man brought the holy water and something to purify our spirits. He'll sprinkle the holy water on you, then you drink from the bottle he gives you."

"Where did he get holy water?" Lauren wondered, as Darren started to make his way around the circle.

"I got it at Saint Bernie's," Darren said.

"You go to St. Bernadette's?" That was news to Lauren.

"I don't go there." Darren said. "They put it out in bowls, or something, by the door. I just filled a couple of shot bottles and got the heck out of there." He didn't appear bothered by the sacrilege as he completed the circle with a healthy sprinkle of water on Micah's head. "Now everyone take a good sip of this," he directed and started two bottles around the circle.

"You didn't take this from St. Bernadette's, too?" Lauren asked as she examined a bottle of wine.

"No." Darren rolled his eyes. "I'm no thief. But it's the same stuff they use for their holy ceremonies. It will protect us from the demon."

Jacob looked on approvingly. Lauren sipped cautiously from the bottle and sputtered as she swallowed.

"I don't know what they do to it," she said, "but it tastes a lot worse than the stuff my mom buys." She looked around like she was hoping to find something to clean the taste from her mouth.

"Just keep both bottles going around until they're gone," Jacob said. "It may not taste great, but it will definitely help keep us safe."

A tortured groan seemed to spring suddenly from the heart of the house.

The coven gathered in the second-floor library. They had completed a more thorough exploration of the house, to the accompaniment of sporadic moans, groans and shrieks. It had been unnerving at times.

Jacob and Darren had been trying to map the various wall panels, hoping to make some sense of the hidden passageways that honeycombed the house. They had borrowed some of the house stationary, but every visit to the hall desk had done nothing to calm their nerves. Each time they returned to the desk there was a new scrawled message waiting for them; messages that were becoming more hostile.

Several members of the group were scanning through the shelves of books remaining in the library, looking for clues to explain the odd nature of the house. Several more were gathering in a small group gossiping and looking increasingly disenchanted with the entire adventure.

The twelve-year-olds were gathered in their own group.

"I hate to tell you this, Micah," Thad said, "but I think some of the girls know you're going commando. The girl in white and one of her friends were following you up the stairs. Your robe was riding up and they kept bending down like they were trying to look farther up inside."

Micah looked horrified. "We have to go downstairs and see if my clothes are dry," he insisted. "If they know, they may say something to Jacob and Darren. That would be awful. I don't know what they might do to me, but I'd never live it down!"

Rocco looked skeptical. They really weren't supposed to leave the rest of the coven. He stepped between Micah and the door, folded his arms across his chest, and shook his head.

Jacob and Darren were talking quietly in a corner. The house's sporadic and disturbing noises were unsettling, but they were becoming even more concerned as they watched their group lose focus and interest.

Darren's eyes asked the question: what to do? Jacob, as was his nature, provided the answer.

" Gather round, everyone," he demanded. "I think I've learned everything I need to know. We're ready to start the exorcism."

There were uncomfortable murmurs and feet shuffling from around the group.

"This is what we came here to do," Jacob reminded them. "There's evil in Antioch and we have to get rid of it. The old folks won't confront it, so it's up to us to keep our town safe!"

It was a stirring exhortation, but it wasn't met with the anticipated enthusiasm.

"D-Man and I have been talking and we've figured it out. The demon's lair is upstairs, in the attic bedroom or the room beyond it. That's where we will do the exorcism. Now let's go!"

There really wasn't much eagerness in the group's reaction. But peer pressure was still a powerful motivator.

Jacob led them purposefully out of the library and down the second floor hallway to the set of stairs to the attic. He threw open the doorway and started to climb.

Micah held his friends back until everyone else was on the stairs, then he urged them on ahead of him. The creaking and groaning of the stairs was accompanied by a moaning sound that seemed to come from the lower levels of the house and intensified as they mounted the stairs.

Arriving in the attic bedroom, Micah pushed past the rest of the coven, shouldered between Jacob and Darren, slammed open the panel in the half-wall, and dove into the dark passageway. The moaning sound grew louder as soon as the panel was opened. Jacob and Darren hesitated. Micah howled and the sounds of struggle emerged from inside the wall.

Jacob gathered his courage and started toward the passageway, the beam from his lantern preceding him, then stopped dead. His face instantly turned several shades whiter and he began to tremble. Several members of the coven pressed close behind him.

Jacob raised his hand in the direction of the open passageway. There, caught in the beam of his lantern, was a red baseball cap.

"It's that Granger kid! That must be his cap!" And Jacob slumped slowly to the floor, his hand still stretched out toward the opening in the wall.

As the group gathered around their leader, the sounds of struggle within the wall grew more distant. Jimmy and his friends were working up the courage to try to help Micah but Darren slammed the wall panel shut.

"No one goes in there!" he insisted. "We have to form the circle to keep out the demon!"

From his seat on the floor, Jacob nodded distractedly. "Yes. We need to form the sacred circle. It will be our safe space to confront evil."

"What about Micah?" Jimmy persisted, pushing against Darren's bulk.

"We can't help him," Jacob insisted. "The evil has him. We have to save ourselves and defeat the demon."

Jacob pushed himself to his feet and adopted a commanding posture. "We must form the circle. Who has the candles and the chalk?"

His question was punctuated by a powerful slam from the stairwell, followed by a loud rasping sound and then a solid metallic click. Everyone backed slowly toward the center of the room.

"Cast the circle!" Jacob shrieked.

Darren had more practical ideas.

"What just happened?" he demanded. He pointed at Rocco. "Go down and check it out!"

Rocco didn't move. He looked terrified. Thad was attempting to hide behind him. Darren advanced on the two.

" I'll check," Jimmy squeaked. He started to edge toward the stairs. A cacophony of ghastly sounds filled the room and Jimmy paused to gather his courage. He swallowed so hard that it looked like he was shrugging his shoulders, then he cautiously set his foot on the top step.

The coven listened with bated breath to the sounds in the stairwell. After a few moments the reports from Jimmy's footfall stopped. A few seconds later they heard rustling sounds and faint concussions, then nothing more for close to a minute. Finally, as Darren was preparing to order Rocco or Thad to follow Jimmy down the stairs, the sound of feet on wooden treads, punctuated by occasional creaks and moans, could be heard.

Jimmy's head appeared above the top of the stairs. They could see that he was upset.

"The door is jammed," he informed Jacob. I think it may be latched from the outside. He paused. "It left this."

He handed two pieces of stationary to Jacob. The first read: "YOU CAN CHECK OUT ANY TIME YOU LIKE". The second advised, "BUT YOU CAN NEVER LEAVE".

"The circle!" Jacob commanded. "We must cast the circle!"

Lauren scrambled to organize the activity. A large circle that almost filled the room was carefully drawn in chalk on the wood floor, then a smaller, eight-foot circle within the first circle. A pentagram was inscribed within the smaller circle.

Candles were set at the vertices of the pentagram, then twelve more were spaced evenly along the circumference of the outer circle. A crucifix was installed at the head of the circle and Lauren placed a Bible next to it.

As the preparations for the ceremony progressed, sporadic and disturbing noises continued to percolate through the walls and floors of the house. The sense of unease among the coven was amplified to alarm by concern about how they would ever get out of the attic.

Jacob ordered everyone to find a space between the candles along the larger circle. Lauren began to circulate sheets of paper. When Jimmy received his, he saw a collection of words that he realized sounded like prayers.

Lauren hurriedly directed the coven to begin reciting the first prayer. "It's 'The Lord's Prayer'," she informed them, with a superior glance in Darren's direction. "Everyone read at the same pace and with a lot of feeling. We have to be strong."

She looked around the circle and, when everyone appeared to be ready, she started to read, "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..."

The moans that filled the house increased in volume to shrieks of rage. The members of the coven made nervous eye contact with each other and began to read faster.

For the next fifteen minutes the members of the coven continued to pray furiously while the house howled around them. In rapid succession, 'Our Father's, 'Hail Mary's, 'Apostles' Creed's, 'Anima Christi's and other professions of faith filled the cool air in the Manson House attic. The house's complaints were starting to fade and Lauren directed the group to conclude with an 'Act of Contrition' and 'Saint Michael's Prayer'. The prayer to the mighty archangel was particularly reassuring.

"O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the Power of God, cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl through the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen." The coven's voices faded and its members stopped to listen to the house around them. They were greeted with blessed silence. The members exchanged harried glances, then gradual expressions of relief at the end of their terror.

"Is that it?" Rocco wondered cautiously.

"Quiet!" Lauren's voice was as commanding as Jacob's or Darren's. "We silenced the darkness but I don't believe it left. We have more to do."

She directed that the candles be lit and placed incense in a small brass burner she drew from a pocket under her robe. "This space must be purified and the spirit of God welcomed into it while the darkness is weak."

Lauren ignited the incense and walked slowly around the circle three times, allowing the smoke from the incense to waft over each member of the group as she passed. It was an unfamiliar smell to most of them, but they found it somehow calming. Silence prevailed throughout the house.

They waited. They had just begun to convince themselves that they had defeated the demon.

Then they began to hear the sounds of movement in the house again. The volume increased gradually as they stood transfixed in their places around the circle. Sometimes the sound appeared to be coming through the floor below them, sometimes through the walls. Sometimes it sounded like banging and thumping, sometimes like large animals scurrying. Panic began to grip the coven again.

From the direction of the stairwell, a high-pitched squeaking and wailing stuttered into life. The pitch varied between a banshee's moan and a pack of rats squealing in pain. It sounded like it would never end. And it felt like it was drawing closer.

It was the final straw. Several bladders emptied. With nowhere to run, the members of the coven turned to each other in terror as they prepared to meet their end. The fear was so powerful that no one even thought to use a cell phone to call for help. They were paralyzed with fright.

The group was startled by the sound of laughter in their midst. Rocco was staring across the circle, toward the top of the stairwell. He was chortling almost uncontrollably, struggling to get words out.

" It's nothing to worry about," he finally choked. "That's just Jimmy's haunted butt again." He burst into peals of laughter.

"Nothing to worry about? That's easy for you to say," Thad gasped. "You're not over here standing right next to him."

Gradually a new odor worked its way through the coven. It wasn't incense.

The members of the group glared at Jimmy in revulsion and disgust. Some expressions were also tinged with shame and anger as sneakers scuffed damply on the wooden floor. Tragically for Jimmy, both Darren and Jacob shared expressions of embarrassment and shame; Jacob because he knew that Darren had definitely heard him squeal in terror like a little girl, Darren because he was leaving wet footprints on the dusty wooden floor of the attic bedroom with every step he took.

He moved menacingly around the circle toward Jimmy.

"I'm really sorry," Jimmy whispered. He couldn't meet Darren's eye. "I swear I didn't eat any more candy. It must have been all the stress."

" Don't worry about it," Darren reassured him affably, annoyance lurking behind his gaze. "We came here tonight prepared for an exorcism. And I think that gives us the perfect solution for your little problem."

Jimmy giggled anxiously. He wasn't sure what might happen next, but Jimmy was used to going along to get along. It was easier to make and keep friends that way. And having friends really mattered to him.

Darren grasped Jimmy's arm and steered him into the circle and to the center of the pentagram.

It took Jacob a moment to figure out what Darren was thinking. Then the penny dropped, erasing all thoughts of demons from his mind.

Jacob didn't dislike Jimmy. But the younger kids had been a pain in his ass all night... and then there was the whole thing about screaming like a little girl. A little embarrassment wouldn't kill this kid, and it would serve him right if it helped Jacob salvage the evening for everyone else. With a tight smile he stepped into the circle and joined Darren and Jimmy at the center.

" Sometimes evil spirits inhabit places, like this house. But they also inhabit people. It got awfully quiet in the house for a while, then we heard the demon coming. Now it smells like this demon is inside you."

Jimmy met Jacob's gaze uncertainly. He was starting to wonder if he really wanted to be in the center of the circle. But Darren kept a firm grip on his arm.

The other members of the coven shared confused glances. This new twist certainly seemed to veer off the planned script for the evening. But it also felt like it might be interesting to watch it play out. They were up for it. It was Jacob's show, after all.

Jacob reached out and pushed Jimmy's hood back onto his shoulders. Then he removed Jimmy's robe. He handed the robe to Lauren and she folded it neatly and placed it outside the outer circle.

Jacob signaled for a couple of the eighth-grade boys to join him in the center of the pentagram. The four older boys formed an impenetrable barrier around Jimmy.

Jacob whispered to Lauren and she directed the rest of the coven to take up their prayer sheets. As they had earlier, they started with 'The Lord's Prayer'. Jimmy shifted uncomfortably as the renewed prayers were directed at him.

"Don't even think it, demon!" Jacob commanded. "Your power is foul but we are stronger!"

"Jake," Darren insisted, "we need to do something before he releases his stench again."

"We will," Jacob said. "In fact, I suspect that the source of that stench is the demon himself. That's probably where he's hiding."

He gestured to include all three of the boys surrounding Jimmy. "We need to ground the demon to his familiar environment. He may fight us. Hold him securely while Darren removes his shoes and socks."

" No socks," Darren reported. That seemed odd for walking around on a cold night. "His feet are in contact with the floor of his lair." He tossed Jimmy's sneakers toward Lauren in the outer circle, then looked back at Jacob expectantly.

"Now the rest of his clothes," Jacob ordered.

Jimmy didn't resist as shirt, t-shirt and jeans were stripped from him. He lifted each leg after Darren slid the pants down his legs. Then realization struck him.

"Please, guys! No! Not with the girls here!"

"The demon is trying to trick us!" Jacob declared. "Hold him securely!"

Six hands grasped Jimmy's arms and legs firmly while Jacob reached out and yanked Jimmy's briefs to the ground. Jimmy screamed and tried to put his hands in front of his groin. Jacob kicked the pile of clothes to the side as Jimmy began to struggle fiercely. The three older boys were jerked about like marionettes but managed to hold onto their victim.

After observing the struggle for a few moments, Jacob drew the remaining eighth-grade boy into the pentagram with a gesture. "We must wear down his will to resist," he instructed them. "Push him down to his knees and then help hold him there until he stops fighting."

He looked toward the now-sparsely populated outer circle. "Don't stop praying. The force of your prayers will help weaken the demon's spirit and defeat him.

Thad and Rocco exchanged uncertain glances. They looked around the circle, where all the other members were praying and avidly watching the unfolding action, apparently eager to see this new scene play out. Rocco met Thad's eye again, shrugged and continued to recite 'The Apostles' Creed'.

In the center of the circle, the weight of four older boys gradually overwhelmed Jimmy's struggles and forced him to his knees. Jacob was assessing the situation as he watched. Suddenly he snapped around and strode out of the inner circle and started rooting through the pile of exorcism gear along the outer circle. He snatched up a length of rope and returned to the center.

Jacob reached into the seething pile of body parts and latched onto Jimmy's left wrist. He secured it with a bowline knot and tried to pull the arms toward Jimmy's left ankle.

" Push him forward," he hissed. "Make him sit back, then push his face down on the floor."

A few more moments of struggle produced the desired result. Jacob pulled Jimmy's wrist back to his left ankle and looped the rope around the ankle. He left about a foot of rope, then wrapped another loop around Jimmy's right ankle. Finally, with a little help from Darren, he pulled Jimmy's right wrist back and secured it to his right ankle with another bowline knot.

By the time Jacob was done, poor Jimmy was kneeling face-down in the middle of the pentagram and trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey! He had stopped struggling and was moaning softly.

"Grab my lantern," Jacob hissed at Darren. "We have to locate that demon."

Darren looked a bit surprised, but not disappointed. He found the lantern outside the circle and brought it back to Jacob.

Jacob and Darren exchanged glances. Each grabbed one of Jimmy's cheeks and pulled firmly outward. For a moment, Jacob found himself surprised by how solid the muscle felt in his hand. It took him a moment to realize that he was more than just surprised.

As that recognition dawned, Jacob was relieved that he was hunched in a kneeling position and that he was wearing a robe. He never bothered to wonder whether what he was feeling was sexual or was in response to the power he held over another human being.

"Spread him more," Jacob hissed as he turned on his lantern and directed the beam toward the dark orifice starting to open between Jimmy's cheeks. "Can you see anything?" he demanded. Darren shook his head and seven or eight voices murmured "No" from directly behind them.

"But I know he's in there," Darren added. "I can still smell him!"

Jacob considered the problem carefully. He noted Jimmy's acquiescent body and the tears streaming down his cheeks. He reached under Jimmy.

"Well, we've worn him down, but he still has just a little bit of fight left in him." He pushed Jimmy onto his side so the others could observe that small but determined resistance that remained. "We need to keep praying until we completely destroy the demon. But we can't let him escape this host."

There were a handful of confused responses to that assertion.

"We have to trap the demon in its host and keep him there, then pray until our power completely destroys him." Jacob exchanged a glance with Darren. "We need a thick candle... probably long, too. This could take a while."

Darren smirked, got to his feet and went back to examine their pile of supplies.

"Does anyone have any oil, or anything we can use as a lubricant? Even Chapstick will probably do."

Most of the coven was confused. Who thought to bring lubricant to an exorcism?

Rocco reached under his robe and felt around his pants pockets. With a pleased grin, he pulled out a tube of Chapstick and held it aloft.

Darren brandished the candle he had discovered and reached for the Chapstick. But Rocco had already figured it out. "It's my Chapstick," he insisted.

Jacob rolled his eyes and gestured for Darren to give Rocco the candle. Then he made room for the kid alongside Jimmy.

Rocco carefully spread the lip balm generously all over the base of the candle, then a little farther up the side for good measure. He eyed Jimmy's butt eagerly. The front of his robe was pointed directly at his target.

When Jimmy felt the base of the candle come into contact with his basement, he bucked fiercely.

"Hold him!" Darren and Jacob ordered simultaneously.

As the candle travelled deeper, Jimmy surrendered to the inevitable. He choked back sobs and tears poured down his face, but he stopped struggling.

"Lighter!" Jacob demanded.

He was met with several confused expressions.

"The burning candle will hold back the demon," he explained. "And by the time it burns down completely, the melted wax will plug up that hole permanently."

"Good idea, Jake," Darren said. "But we need to lie the host face down in the circle or the melting wax will just drip off to the side."

Jacob was annoyed, but that made sense. "Okay," he said. "You untie the rope. Then get the host's ass up in the air and somebody give me a lighter."

As he set flame to the candle wick, Jacob hissed in Jimmy's ear. "Don't even think of moving! If you upset that candle, you'll have boiling wax all over your ass and down the back side of your balls!" He slapped the side of Jimmy's face when he didn't get a response.

Jimmy nodded slightly.

Jacob forced Jimmy's legs to open wider, further exposing him, then gave his right cheek a solid smack.

Jimmy knelt with the side of his face pressed against the floor. He was trembling.

A couple of the girls made faint sounds of disgust, but they never even glanced away.

Once Jacob was satisfied that the candle was burning well and the Jimmy wouldn't move, he ordered the coven to form around the outer circle again. Darren picked up the crucifix and handed it to him.

"You know, Jake, this might work even better than that candle," he suggested.

Jacob snorted back a laugh. He walked back into the pentagram and stuck the crucifix into a crack in the floor right in front of Jimmy's head. He smirked at Darren. "I think that should foil the demon at both ends."

Jacob returned to his place in the circle and turned to Lauren. She waited for everyone to have their prayer sheet in hand, then started again with the 'Our Father'.

The prayers of friends surrounding Jimmy should have been comforting. But in a room filled with people, he had never felt more abandoned in his life.

He tried to remember how he had come to be in his present situation. When Micah mentioned a Halloween exorcism to him, it had sounded like an adventure. He thought it would be fun. And with three friends and a bunch of older kids to share the experience with him, Jimmy was absolutely stoked about being asked to come along.

It had only taken a few hours, a strange set of events, and a demon that Jimmy was starting to suspect had never existed, to turn a great adventure with friends into one of the loneliest nights of his life. He could hear Thad and Rocco praying right along with everyone else in the group, but they acted like he wasn't even there.

He wondered about Micah. He was pretty sure now that Micah hadn't encountered any demon in the house walls, but he couldn't imagine what had happened to him. He wanted to say something to the others, to tell them that they had to go find Micah in case he had been injured and was stuck in the walls. But he knew that no one would heed him. Those older guys would just claim that 'the demon' was trying to trick them.

Jimmy was thoroughly frustrated... in addition to the shame he was feeling over having his butt used as a candle holder in front of a bunch of kids, including several that he barely knew. He was trying very hard to ignore the knowledge that four of them were girls. He was in a terrible situation and there was nothing he could do about it. There was no help. Worse, he was surrounded by people, but he was all alone.

The drone of the prayers rose and fell in the attic bedroom. Jacob prayed along with the rest of the coven, but he was watching Jimmy carefully for some sign that the demon had departed. The host's body was largely quiet, trembling occasionally. Jacob thought he could detect occasional sobs. Tears continued to stain the floor around its head.

From where he stood behind the host, Jacob's attention kept being drawn to the candle, wondering when hot wax might roll down the shaft and make contact with tender flesh. The candle holder hadn't moved. Below it, Jacob was distracted by the hanging scrotum. Sometimes a penis dangled below that. Jacob continued his observation, mesmerized by the sights.

He was startled out of his trance by a discordant murmuring around him. Prayers were being replaced by timorous queries and exclamations of concern. Expanding the focus of his hearing, Jacob realized that the house was producing unsettling noises again. He checked the host, but nothing had changed there. He fought to focus and orient himself to the new sensations.

Some sounds seemed to originate in a lower level of the house, but the loudest disruption appeared to be coming from the adjacent room, behind the locked door! Jacob almost levitated when Darren grabbed his shoulder!

"What can we do, Jake?" Darren sounded panicked. "Should we take everyone down the stairs and try to break through the door there?"

Jacob struggled to gather his wits. A burning candle still filled his inner senses.

Before Jacob could respond coherently, he heard a very loud crash on the other side of the wall, then another loud crash that seemed closer to the door in that wall. The doorknob began to turn slowly, then the door rattled until the wall started to shake!

The members of the coven had clustered together around Lauren. She was looking to Jacob and Darren for leadership. They were looking completely lost.

With a sudden, fierce yank the door burst open! There was the sound of a brief struggle behind the door. Then the door opened wider and a small, robed and hooded figured appeared in the doorway.

"Micah!" Thad and Rocco were elated.

"Micah?" Jacob sounded surprised, but nothing more.

" Micah!" The rest of the coven turned to each other, relief evident in their posture and their gestures.

Micah dashed into the attic bedroom. He appeared to be relieved, too, but there was a haunted expression in his eyes.

"Where have you been?" Jacob demanded, trying to restore his mantle of authority.

"I was trying to get in that room," Jacob explained. "But I ran into some trouble in the wall. I smacked my head, fell down a ladder, and then I got lost trying to find my way back." He sounded sincere, but he caught Thad's eye and lifted the hem of his robe high enough to expose his pants. The body language accompanying the gesture exuded relief.

"Is there a way out of that room?" Jacob's focus was on essential information.

" Only through the hidden passages," Micah said. "We have to use those stairs to get out of here."

Several heads shook in frustration.

"We can't use the stairs," Jacob explained. "The demon locked the door on us. You'll have to lead us through the hidden passageways."

Micah appeared uneasy, a haunted expression in his eyes.

" I don't know if that's a good idea," he said. "When I was in the walls I could hear some pretty scary stuff going on in there." He shuddered. "There were sounds everywhere! I could even hear a lot of what you guys were saying up here."

Before the echo of the final word died in the air, the house was filled with a sudden roaring sound. The volume continued to increase for several heartbeats, then segued into something that resembled music. The pitch had been adjusted into an eerie register and when the lyrics kicked in they were almost unrecognizable...

"Who's watching?

"Tell me who's watching.

"Who's watching?"

Twenty-four eyeballs blared wide as the music permeated the house. The walls were vibrating with the intense volume. Twenty-four legs were paralyzed with fear. The coven huddled together for support.

As the music continued with no new alarms, Micah glanced around.

"Fitz?" he murmured. "What happened to Jimmy?" he asked out loud.

Before anyone could answer, the door to the adjacent room slammed shut powerfully. The doorknob rattled several times, followed by what sounded like furniture walking across the floor.

Jacob and Darren exchanged terrified glances. "Check the door, Micah!" Jacob ordered.

Micah looked like he might wet his pants again, but he obeyed. The doorknob refused to move in his grasp, and the door didn't even shift in its frame when he tried it with his shoulder. He looked back at Jacob and shook his head.

"Jesus!" Jacob was frustrated.

While the coven was digesting their change in circumstance, they heard loud movement in the wall. Darren and Jacob hurriedly backed away from the wall panel. As they waited for the next horrifying surprise, they heard a loud banging sound inside the wall, like someone had stuck a dozen or more solid blows with a hammer.

They looked at each other in confusion, then terror as awareness sunk in. Jacob dashed over to the panel and tried to force it open, but it absolutely refused to budge. He howled in frustration.

Before the bewildered coven had time to collect their thoughts, a sound like a tree falling rose from the direction of the stairs. Another loud crash followed and they could hear a door being flung open and rebounding off the wall below. A deep, commanding voice- it really didn't sound at all human- filled the stairwell.

" Be gone immediately from this house if you want to live another day!" it boomed. Crazed laughter punctuated the command.

The members of the coven turned terrified eyes toward each other.

"I'm pretty sure that voice wasn't coming from that kid's butt," one of the eighth-graders said as he pointed a trembling finger at Jimmy.

Terrified eyes sought answers in other terrified eyes. It sounded like the stairway door had been opened. Was it safe to use it? Or was it some sort of trap?

While they debated their fate silently, they could hear music starting to build again. It was a familiar song made unfamiliar by demonic distortion.

"I was working in the lab late one night,

"When my eyes beheld an eerie sight,

"For my monster from his slab began to rise..."

From the room next door they could hear a series of disjointed thumps, then an inhuman howl split the air and something huge struck the floor, rattling floorboards from one end of the attic to the other.

It made their decision for them. The coven adjourned like it was a Keystone Cops routine. Bodies collided and rebounded off each other as the kids raced to get to the stairs.

Thad glanced at Jimmy and turned to Rocco for help extricating their friend from his predicament, but Rocco had taken off like a rocket. He really was fast!

With an apologetic glance at Jimmy, Thad followed in the rocket's wake.

As the children burst into the second floor hallway and flew down its length, they noticed a word scrawled in blood on the door of each room.

On one side, "LEAVE", "OR" and "DIE!" On the other side of the hallway the message was even more disturbing, "HELTER" and "SKELTER". Jacob discovered a new burst of speed as he recognized the import of those words.

The terrified children burst out the front door of the house and fled up the road. Behind them, the house roared out its frustration at their escape and deep, maniacal laughter pursued them. It helped fuel their flight.

As they reached the next street intersection and the Manson House disappeared from view, the children finally felt safe enough to slow to a brisk trot. Reclaiming his responsibility, Jacob did a quick head count of his crew.

"Twelve," he announced with satisfaction. "We're all safe!"

"But there are thirteen of us," Micah reminded him.

Jacob rounded on him. "Twelve! There were never more than twelve of us! Don't you or anyone else forget that!" He glared at each member of the crew individually, then seemed to withdraw into himself after his outburst. He wouldn't even respond when Darren suggested that they stop at a few more houses for some late trick-or-treating. Jacob needed to get home immediately.

In the attic bedroom, Jimmy was worried. He really didn't believe there was a demon in the house. But he did know that something was in the house with him. To make matters worse, he was naked and had no friends to help him. He tried to figure out whether he might be able to shift suddenly onto his side without spilling molten wax all over himself and roasting his nuts.

As Jimmy was subtly shifting around, trying to determine how much he could safely move without disturbing the melted wax, he noticed a flickering light out of the corner of his eye. It startled him and he turned suddenly onto his side. What he saw truly frightened him.

In the coven's haste to disband, several candles had been knocked over and small flames were flickering on the dry wooden floor. Worse, one of the candles had toppled into his pile of clothing, which was now fully ablaze! Worst of all, he felt a torrent of hot wax spill onto his butt!!

Jimmy shrieked in surprise and terror. He started to clamber to his feet just as he heard the sound of feet pounding up the wooden stairs. He hoped it was a friend coming back to rescue him, but he feared the worst.

It had been a long and terrifying evening. Jimmy could feel his heart's surrender. Apathetically, he curled into a ball and waited for the molten wax to traverse his perineum and sear his balls... and for whatever new horror would appear at the top of the stairs.

Six-Pack Shakur opened the door to the attic and prepared to mount the stairs to survey his handiwork. When he heard the shriek from the attic room, he wasn't scared. He raced up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, he took in the debris that the coven had left behind. He noticed a small-ish boy, lying on his side and facing away from the stairs, with a lit candle sticking out of his butt. He also noticed several burning candles lying on the wooden floor and a pile of clothing aflame near the center of the room.

Six-Pack was curious about the unusual candle holder. But he remained calm in the crisis. He kept his priorities in order. First he gathered the burning clothing into a ball and used the fabric itself to smother the life out of that fire. Then he extinguished the burning candles. Only then did he turn to the boy.

He wasn't entirely sure about the proper social etiquette, but Mitchell was pretty sure that it would be a good idea to extinguish that candle flame, too. With a soft "sorry", he pinched off the flame. Negotiations would get more delicate from there.

"Uh," Mitchell was having a hard time figuring out how to start the conversation. "Do you need me to take that candle out?" he wondered.

Jimmy was relieved to find someone he knew standing behind him; someone his own age. It was still an uncomfortable circumstance, but Jimmy didn't let many social situations faze him. The two of them had shared a locker room together. Jimmy had never strutted around the locker room with a flaming candle up his butt, but he wasn't shy. He understood that you could survive even the most awkward social situations if you had a sense of humor and didn't mind laughing at yourself.

"Thanks," he replied. "But please take it easy pulling it out. It kinda hurt when they shoved it in there."

Mitchell wanted to ask questions. He- or at least his alter ego- had been in control of events all evening, but he still hadn't been fully aware of the details of everything that had taken place. He noticed evidence of tears on Jimmy's face, so he figured that whatever had happened, he really should be circumspect in how he questioned Jimmy about it.

Mitchell reached out and grasped the candle tentatively. It didn't budge when he tugged gently on it. He started to reach out with his other hand for some purchase, but realized just in time that leverage would be gained by putting his hand on Jimmy's butt. He pulled his hand back like he had been scalded and tried to figure out what to do.

Mitchell considered asking Six-Pack for help, but it was Jimmy that solved the problem for him. "I don't care if you have to touch me. I had a lot worse things happen to me tonight. And I'm probably going to ask you for help with the hot wax in my crack and, uh, under my butt, too." He shrugged a shoulder apologetically. "I mean if you don't mind," Jimmy grinned weakly.

That made it much easier for Mitchell. His left hand reached out and pressed firmly on Jimmy's butt. He was very concerned about helping Jimmy, but he still took a moment to appreciate the sensation. He thought it felt really nice. With his right hand he gently twisted the candle and carefully eased it out of Jimmy. He set the candle on the floor and waited for Jimmy to decide what he wanted him to do next.

A quick inspection of the wax spill revealed that while it sure had hurt, it didn't appear to have done any permanent damage. Mitchell explained that there was some skin that was red "down there" and would probably be sore for a while, but that a couple dabs of Neosporin or A+D daily should take care of that. Jimmy thanked him with a nervously conspiratorial glance and a timid grin. He had noticed that timid grins helped move social interactions with Mitchell along quite nicely.

Mitchell and Jimmy checked Jimmy over carefully to make sure there wasn't any other damage. Jimmy considered mentioning that it still felt a little sore inside his butt, but he thought that might be imposing too much on Mitchell. He decided that he should probably play it by ear before addressing that injury.

The real crisis emerged when Jimmy looked around for his pants and shirt. The smoking pile of clothes turned out to be everything that Jimmy had worn under his robe, aside from his sneakers. It was Mitchell who saved the day- although Jimmy wasn't beyond walking home completely starkers, the temperatures had already dipped into the mid-forties. He noticed the black robe and sneakers that had been dumped near the head of the ceremonial circle and handed them to Jimmy.

Jimmy slipped the robe over his head, disappointing Mitchell slightly. "Cool!" Jimmy announced when the hem of the robe fell right at the top of his feet. "This must have been mine." He slipped on his sneakers. He helped Mitchell extinguish the remaining candles and then he followed Mitchell down the stairs.

"Holy Crap!" Jimmy exclaimed when he took in the graffiti on the second floor. "Did you do all this?"

Mitchell nodded shyly. "I'm going to have to clean all this mess up tomorrow, but tonight it all worked out perfectly."

Jimmy examined the doors. "How can you clean off this- uh, that's spray paint, isn't it? I hope...."

" It's Rust-oleum Chalked Spray Paint," Mitchell explained. "It usually wipes off with a damp sponge or rag. I may have to bring a tooth brush or something like that because it's on wood. But it comes off." He was fairly proud to share his knowledge.

"Man!" Jimmy was impressed. "So all that stuff- the fire, the spooky noises, the notes, the music- that was all you?!"

Mitchell nodded shyly. "I had a bunch of Halloween music and sound effects loaded on my tablet. I wired the tablet through a boom box that has wireless speakers. And I had a microphone, too."

Jimmy took it all in with amazement. "I could never have done something like that!" He was feeling pretty proud of Mitchell. "But how did you get around the house without getting caught?"

" I've already been here a lot of times," Mitchell explained. "I like exploring things in Antioch, and this old house is one of the coolest things around. I knew the floor plan and had those hidden passageways mapped out years ago..." He trailed off in embarrassment. Mitchell was proud of his accomplishment, but he felt like maybe he shouldn't be boasting too much about his nerd stuff in front of Jimmy.

"Wow!" Jimmy was completely impressed. "I wish you could do stuff like that with me! I'd really love to go exploring like that!"

Funny you should suggest that, Mitchell thought.

"Hey, Mitchie?" Jimmy sounded rather anxious, at least for Jimmy. "Would it be okay if I come here with you tomorrow and help you clean up?"

Mitchell wanted to be polite. But he really couldn't help himself. He leapt at the offer.

Mitchell offered to walk with Jimmy to make sure he got home safely. Jimmy was feeling conflicted.

" I'm not sure I want to go home now, Mitchie. There's no one there and my parents are out partying. They won't get home until, like, three in the morning." He didn't have to act very hard to look upset. His expression bordered on tragic.

Mitchell was still Mitchell. He was cautious. He didn't want to presume too much. But he definitely wanted to presume.

"If you, uh, don't have anywhere else to go, do you want to, um, maybe spend the night at my house?" Mitchell managed to choke out the invitation.

" Mitchie!" Jimmy's smile lit up the night. "That would be so cool! Are you sure your parents wouldn't mind?"

" They won't!" he assured Jimmy. They might even be thrilled that I'm bringing a friend home, he thought to himself.

Mitchell considered suggesting that they should swing by Jimmy's house to collect some clothes for him to wear. Mitchie thought better of it. In the morning, they could probably find something of his that would fit Jimmy. And he was sure there was Neosporin in the family medicine cabinet.

The friends bumped shoulders occasionally as they strolled together, side-by-side toward Mitchie's house.

-Spirits Banished-

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We support Ukraine — Мы поддерживаем Украину — Ми підтримуємо Україну
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