Evil Spirit

Peter slowly came down the stairs. His blue eyes turned blood-red with rage. Hank tried not to show his fear, because he knew what was about to happen.

Dirk had no time and ran up the stairs to free his best friend John. He ran right past Hank, and went straight through Peter. It looked like Peter received a punch to the stomach, with his ghostly eyes drooping. Momentarily he disappeared, like someone went through a cloud of smoke, and regenerated again. That was all the chance Hank needed and he jumped at Peter. Ann and Deborah dared not move from their places, heard hissing and bubbling noises, when the two spirits touched and slowly went up together. The two transparent bodies disappeared in the fog with the hiss. The fog lifted slowly and the two spirits were gone in the blink of an eye.

Ann began to falter and sank to her knees trembling. Deborah began to sob softly and tried to pull up Ann. But she couldn’t, so she sank beside Ann. She was about to fall when she heard the painful cry of Peter. Now fully awake, she looked towards the stairs and stared blankly.

At the bottom of the stairs, appeared a cloud of beautiful twinkling glitters. They could hear crackling noises from inside the cloud, and slowly, the cloud faded, blown away by a gentle breeze.

Ann slowly began to come back to her senses and looked around the room. Deborah was staring at her, eyes opened and closed slowly as she exhaled, like she was trying to control her breathing from hyperventilating. She kept staring fixedly at Ann and felt a gentle breeze swept around the living room. The cool air moved like a silky swirl around her and touched her body with the utmost tenderness. It was pleasant, it’s as if someone or something went inside her body. She watched Ann got up and slowly made her way to the garage. Deborah had to follow. As if she was moved by an invisible magnet, she was forged to follow her friend’s body. She felt like a puppet in strings. She wanted to stop and wait for Dirk, but the force was stronger than her, and it made her keep walking. She looked back and saw Peter’s body pinned against the stairs, visibly trying to break from the bonds that held him down. A soft whisper penetrated into her head: “Hurry up. I can’t hold him for much longer.”

She recognized the voice; it was Hank’s. She had almost reached the garage door, when she heard Peter, screaming hysterically in the living room.

Deborah felt the strength of her body deteriorate, as Hank stepped out of her body. His turbid appearance drew slowly near the body of Ann and gently grazed her side. His vague shape became clearer when he touched her body, it was like he absorbed a bit of Ann’s energy. He was complete again. Peter was now in front of him and threw himself on top of Hank with the same hysterical voice.

“Run, while you still can!” Hank yelled at them.

“You stay here!” Peter screamed, as he slammed the garage door to a close.

Immediately afterwards, a heavy cast iron ashtray came flying at great speed out of the living room. It hit Ann hard on the forehead, creating a big, messy hole. Ann sank to her knees and fell forward on the ground. A few seconds later, a pool of blood formed around her. Deborah got hysterical and tried in panic to open the door to the garage. After a few attempts to open it, she managed to open the door and she ran to the garage.

In her blind panic, she slammed herself against the linen closet. The crash unlocked the lock of the cabinet and the door swung gently open. With a pained face, she scrambled to her feet and suddenly came face to face with the bloody corpse of Annette, the mother of her friend Jack, she came to rescue. Her upper body slowly fell out of the closet, on top of Deborah. A small puddle of blood leaked from under the wardrobe door.

As Deborah hold the body, she stood eye in eye with the rag that was crammed into the hole in Annette’s head. It was gorged in blood. Annette’s body slumped slightly forward and the wet rag fell out of the hole and landed with a soggy plop next to Deborah’s feet.

Deborah dropped the body and stumbled backwards, as she fell and landed on her butt. Her stomach tightened and she began vomiting. Exhausted by all the events, she lacked the strength to turn her head and vomited on her stomach and legs. She sat back, her head slowly leaned sideward and lost consciousness.

Dirk and John stared at the black burn mark that was sitting on the parquet at bottom of the stairs.

“What the hell happened here?” asked Dirk.

“Campfire, I think,” John replied flatly, trying to break the tension.

Dirk could not laugh. Their attention was again drawn by a heartbreaking cry.

Silently, they ran hastily to the pantry and stared right into a glittering, white cloud, which was highlighted in a mystical way. The beautiful cloud still hung in the air. It was almost soothing to watch; the wonderful twinkling glitter and stars, with soft crackling sounds sounded through the air. Bewitched, they were both staring into the soft air swirl, caused by the cloud. Then, John’s attention was suddenly drawn by a trace of blood that slowly formed around the corner of the sink. He slightly leaned forward to see where it came from and to his horror, he saw his ex-girlfriend lying in the puddle of blood.

Dirk was mesmerized, still staring at the cloud and saw the black haze slowly absorbed into the white light, making it entirely disappear. At the same time John took a step forward towards Ann, not noticing the cloud quickly shifting from white to black. Immediately there was a sliding sound. Wildly the a drawer from the counter was opened. A cleaver spun its way towards him, hitting him clear on the forehead. The sound of his skull splitting drowned at the crackling sounds of the cloud. Dirk saw the knife penetrating John’s forehead; a small trickle of blood spurted from the wound. A dozen large steak knives flew from the drawer and hit John in the chest. He widened his eyes and fell to his knees and dropped backwards. His hand fell on top of Ann’s hand. Dirk staggered backwards, as he saw John’s blood slowly mixed with Ann.

The white in the cloud predominated again. Slowly a beautiful, white shape went up and slowly formed into the big, broad man with the ship tattoo on his arm. The cloud fully disappeared and Dirk could see him clearly now. It seemed that he had not only destroyed Peter, but he had also absorbed his power.

“It’s over,” said the friendly voice of Hank.

The expressionless face of Dirk stared at the man.

Hank looked at the door, and it immediately swing open.

“Go to your girlfriend, she’s fine.”

Dirk took a shaky step towards the unconscious body of Deborah, when he felt a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“I could not let this happen,” Hank said. “I have to believe that good will always triumph. Not only for you guys, also for my wife, the love I left behind. Especially for her. Although I am afraid of this new journey, I now have found my peace. I must leave you now. I am just terribly sorry I couldn’t save everyone.”

Dirk looked around and saw Hank’s body slowly fading.

“Pay attention to your girlfriend. Make sure that you do not end up like me,” was the last thing Hank shouted.

Slowly, Hank’s body faded and Dirk could see through him. The hand on his shoulder slowly fading. A gentle breeze flew through the kitchen and Hank was gone.

Dirk slowly stepped over his best friend’s dead body and walked to the garage, where Deborah was still unconscious. He knelt beside her and dropped gently to the ground, sitting beside her. He drew up his knees and closed his hands around it, intertwining his fingers. His eyes were dull and emotionless, like a zombie and gently rocked back and forth, waiting.

EPILOGUE

Two weeks later.

A tensed Deborah and her father stepped out of the car. He almost looked as tense as his daughter as they went to the psychiatric hospital where Dirk was confined.

After Deborah had gained consciousness, she had found her boyfriend rocking beside her. She tried talking to him, but he never responded. He did stood up when Deborah pulled him up, but that was all. They went to the nearest house for help and explained the brutal, chaotic massacre that the spirits created.

They also had to talk to a psychiatrist every Tuesday and Friday. Not that it helped. Dirk never spoke a word since that fateful night.

The doctors had diagnosed him with a post-traumatic stress disorder. This was a severe stress reaction to a traumatic event, which amounted to an extreme loss of control, which Dirk had to suffer for everyday of his life.

They explaned Deborah that Dirk had seen more than he could handle. Only when he was able to process the psychological events then he would recover. But there is no sense of security to when he’ll be able to return, and that was the most frustrating part.

Deborah walked to the room where Dirk usually sat in a corner in a chair, with his back to the door. They opened the door and saw he had changed places. Instead sitting in the corner, he was now sitting in the chair near the barred window, still rocking gently back and forth. Deborah walked over to him, put her hands on his shoulders and held her face close to his.

“Honey, how are you?” she asked and began to cry softly.

She silently cried more, as Dirk stares at her blankly. “I need you. I feel so alone, please come back to me.”

They stayed like that for fifteen minutes and decided to leave. Deborah said her goodbyes to Dirk and opened the door. On the other side waited Dirk’s parents. They greeted each other and briefly chatted, then they made their way out into the hallway, as Dirk’s parents entered the room.

Dirk sat in his chair and stared out the window with a glazed look. His thoughts shuffled slowly over the day that was deeply etched in his memory. He tried to understand everything, but he just couldn’t. It was too much. The pain was still too fresh. Dirk slowly closed his eyes and cried for John in his mind. He tried this for almost two weeks. He couldn’t do this alone. He needed the help.

While his parents walked into the room and talked to him, he felt a gentle breeze touching his body. It wasn’t as pleasant as he thought it would be and he shivered.

He knew in his heart it was wrong to summon John, but he badly needed his help. He felt a presence. John came for him!

Dirk slowly opened his eyes and looked for the familiar face of his best friend.

Instead, he looked straight into the cold blue eyes of Jack, who squatted in front of him and stared at him.

Dirk looks tensed. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not Jack! He was the main reason of this all. John should be the one coming. Not Jack. Never Jack!

“I’m so terribly sorry about all this,” Jack answered. A tear ran down his cheeks from the corner of his eyes.

“But I know a game, that will make you feel a lot better…”