Angel Feathers

Shadows of War

Chaplain Eric entered the Home for Disabled Veterans, clutching a bundle of file folders. The astringent fumes of antiseptic spray permeated his lungs as he stopped in front of Maria's reception desk to sign in for his night shift.

“Anything I need to know?” he asked her, scrawling his name into the book.

She suppressed a yawn, blinking wearily.

“New patient in Room 32. Records show he has a tendency to hallucinate and cry for help in the night. Name's Kevin.”

“Indeed? I'll be ready. Thank you for letting me know.”

Eric paced the darkened halls, hands clasped behind him, deep in prayer. He readied himself for anything or nothing. One could never tell if the night shift would be silent and uneventful, or if something untoward would happen. Usually he spent the slow hours counting steps and contemplating scriptures.

At one thirty, the call light blinked for Room 32. Nurse Annette went to assist Kevin. Eric paused outside the patient's door, not exactly listening, but waiting.

“Someone get me a chaplain!” a gruff voice shouted. “I can't stand this – there's demons taunting me!”

Annette stepped out into the hallway and shut the door. Eric raised his eyebrows. She shrugged.

“We may have to sedate him. He's pretty bad off right now. You want to see if you can help?”

“Of course. That's what he asked for.”

Eric went to his office and picked out a Bible, a prayer book and a vial of holy water. Whatever was happening with Kevin, he wanted to be prepared. Back at the door of Room 32, he knocked.

“Chaplain Eric here. Did you need me?”

“Darn right I need you,” Kevin snarled in a most startling way. “The devil's in here!”

Eric crossed himself, murmured the Lord's prayer, and stepped into the room. It was unnaturally cold, sending goosebumps rising along his arms. Kevin, an elderly, grizzled vet, was sitting up in bed, back pressed against the wall, grimacing and growling, trembling all over. Eric's stomach sank ominously. Purplish red shadows crawled in the corners of the brightly lit room, movements that lured the eyes to look, only to drift away, lurking at the edges of his peripheral vision. Kevin was not hallucinating.

Eric walked the perimeter of the room, sprinkling holy water and praying. He kept his voice steady, firm, quiet.

“The Lord says, begone. Christ is victorious over all. Evil has no power here. I ask God to bless this room and sanctify it, by the power of His Holy Spirit and the blood of Jesus.”

The cold fluorescent lights shone warmer. The shadows peeled back, gathered themselves towards the window and dissipated as Eric came closer. He completed his circuit. He settled down by Kevin's bed and prayed for calm and healing.

Gradually, Kevin relaxed, his trembling body sinking into the sheets with a heavy sigh. He looked at Eric, eyes clear and sharp.

“Thank God you showed up. I couldn't stand it another second!”

“Would you like me to stay?”

“Yes, please. I hate being here all alone in the night. Everything I've done comes back to haunt me.” Kevin clenched and unclenched his hands around the sheets, eyes tracking the room, searching for the vanished evil.

“You feel tormented?”

“Can't think of anything else I'd call it. I was in the Special Forces, man. I've done things you wouldn't want your granny to find out.”

Eric sat without comment, allowing Kevin to ruminate.

“God feels so far away, like He's mad at me for everything. These… Things wouldn't be here if He was protecting me. I'm a dirty old sinner.”

“God removed the things for you when I asked Him to. He loves you unconditionally.”

“Does He understand I was doing it to protect our country?”

“Of course He does. He knows you and your heart better than anyone, even you. Would you like me to go over some Bible verses with you?”

“Might as well.”

They spent about an hour studying the Bible, learning about mercy, forgiveness and grace. Kevin's eyes slipped shut after a while, and he fell into a deep, restful sleep. Eric sat by, thinking about his own time serving in the armed forces. He had always been a chaplain, therefore never bore a weapon. Many times, his life had been in danger. Many times, God had rescued him in miraculous ways. Now, it was his turn to give back, to provide for the community what the Lord had provided for him.

Nurse Annette knocked at the door. Eric got up, moving softly to answer.

“You got him to sleep? Everything's ok?”

“Yes, ma'am, the patient is resting peacefully.”

“Did you resolve the hallucinations?”

“Would you believe me if I told you they were not?”

Annette's eyes widened, then narrowed.

“Did he have a visitor with a pitchfork, perhaps?”

“No, only a vague malevolent presence. It's gone now.”

“Well, good for you, exorcist.” Annette spoke with a slight wryness as she dimmed the lights. “Now we know who to call.”

“I'll be ready.” Eric smiled and resumed his patrol through the halls.

Words: 848.
Written for "Honoring Our Veterans - Challenge" 
Inspired by a true story.

Join "WDC Dragon Vale "