Wilbur Daemon: The Sinner

Wilbur Daemon: The Sinner

Witches

by Rhonnel Ferry

It's not easy being crazy. I know. You see all kinds of scary, fucked-up shit when you're crazy. Everyone sees or hears creepy, unexplainable stuff every once in a while. You've probably seen quite a few, yourself. Usually, at the corner of your eye, just outside the very center of your gaze, at your peripheral vision. Then you turn your head to look, and it's gone. Well, for crazy people, like myself, it's the same thing. Except when you turn your head to look, the scary thing is still fucking there! Sometimes it even screams right in your face just to freak you out some more!

That's why I need booze to help me sleep at night. Oh, and my therapist friend's got me on several antipsychotic drugs to help me during the day.

Lucky I wasn't born during the dark ages when they drilled a hole in your skull to let the evil spirits out.

Lucky I'm not Ian Magdiwang. He was crazy just like me. He paid for it with his life.

“Victim was beaten and stabbed to death repeatedly,” Officer Bea Santos informs me. “Christ, Wilbur. He was only twelve.”

“Who would do this?” I ask her in disgust, as I examined the small boy's body.

“Nicole Andrada. Faith healer. She did this as some kind of brutal exorcism. Ian had been suffering from what could possibly be schizophrenia for years. Hearing voices, seeing things. His parents sought Nicole's help.”

“This was done at the parents' behest?!”

“These are poor country folk, Wilbur. They can't afford big city hospital treatment for their son. Both parents are under our custody now.”

“And the faith healer?”

“Gone. That's why I need you here. I'm stuck. I don't know who to talk to. I don't know where to start. And Ian Magdiwang? The system doesn't care about penniless kids like him from poverty-stricken, small towns. In about a week, this is going to be just another unsolved case. You, well... You have experience with...creepy cases like this.”

“You know, I'm currently seeing a therapist for that, right?”

“I know. I'm sorry. But I didn't know what else to do. I need your help. Please?”

Bea knows I'm attracted to her. I haven't told her. I haven't asked her out or anything. (Although, the voice in my head had previously egged me on about it.) But women just know. And they will use it to make you do things for them.

“Alright,” I answer. What can I say? Men are idiots.

“Thanks,” she replies, all smiles.

“First, I need to go to the local watering hole.”

“You think the bartender might know something?”

“No, I need a drink. Starting to feel myself getting sober.”

I raise the police yellow tape over my head, and give the crowd control cop a nod, before working my way through the mob of curious onlookers.

“Excuse me,” a mysterious, young woman wearing a white veil calls out to me from the corner of my eye.

“You're not real, you're not real,...” I repeatedly tell myself, quickening my pace.

“Excuse me, sir,” she repeats, grabbing me by the arm.

“Oh, so you are real!”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. I thought you were a hallucination. What is it?”

“You have to leave this place,” she fearfully warns me.

“Why?”

“Because you're like him. You're like that boy.”

“What, you mean Ian Magdiwang? Do you know anything about that?”

She looks around anxiously.

“I'll tell you what I know. Unofficially. I won't be making any statement. But just you. Not to any of the other officers. And not here.”

“Why?”

“Because you're the only one among that lot who won't outright throw me in a loony bin.”

#

I was hesitant to follow her. Might be a scam to rob me. Gullible white man in a third world country and all. Happens a lot. And I really wanna have that drink now. But she might have information on the case. Besides, I'm carrying a semi-automatic pistol, so I can handle myself in the event of something...unexpected.

We walk quite a long way without talking. All the way out of town. Then we walk through a field of sugarcane. I'm wearing the wrong shoes for this trip, apparently. Finally, we get to her shack. The outside is in need of some repair, but it is simple, clean, and quite cozy inside. She sits me down, and hands me a glass of cool water. I thank her for it, and drink. I'm not too sweaty in spite of the long walk. It's not as hot or humid here as it is in the city.

“So who are you , anyway?” I ask her.

“My name's Nina Tagonon,” she answers. “I'm a faith healer.”

“Wilbur Daemon. So you're a faith healer like Nicole Andrada.”

“Nicole is no faith healer,” she spits. “She's a witch. She's not interested in healing anyone. Least of all that boy.”

“Speaking of Ian, you mentioned earlier that I'm like him. What did you mean?”

“He was a psychic. Just like you.”

“A psychic?”

There is a confused expression on her face.

“Yes,” she answers. “You didn't know?”

“Well, if psychic is the hippie definition of schizo, then yes, I do know.”

“You're a psychic,” she insists firmly. “And quite a powerful one actually.”

“Really?” I patronize her. “And you know this how?”

“Well, I can see it all over you!” she answers, waving her hands for effect. “It's all over your aura!”

“Hippie. Just as I thought. Lady, what exactly are you smoking in this hut?”

“But there's something wrong,” she continues, ignoring my last question. “It's like your aura is restrained...or damaged. Corrupted. Did you just go through some kind of horrible traumatic experience? Or are you taking some kind of drug-?”

“Hey, how did you-?” I start, but stop myself. “And Nicole. She can see these...auras, too? Did she see Ian's aura?”

Nina sighs sadly.

“I tried to explain to Nicole that there was nothing wrong with it. That it was perfectly normal. But she insisted that the boy was touched by evil. By demons even!”

“You spoke to her about Ian? What, are you guys frenemies or something?”

“She's been talking to all the faith healers here lately. She claims to have had horrible premonitions of death, darkness, and destruction. And that we should all form a coven with her if we are to survive it.”

“How do I find her?”

“Find her?! Have you not heard a word of anything I've said?! You should escape her! Leave town! Go back to the city! To your country, if you could! She is a very powerful bruha! And you'll never get to her with that familiar protecting her!”

“Familiar?”

“A frightening, supernatural entity. God knows where she conjured it from.”

“Look, she murdered a twelve year old boy. I have to bring her in for that.”

“Well, then you'll have to stop taking whatever it is you're taking.”

“Why?”

“It dulls your power. Makes you vulnerable.”

“Ian's powers didn't do him any good.”

#

Well, that was a bust. Nina had no idea where to find Nicole. But as she had so morbidly put it, if I stayed in town long enough, Nicole would find me.

I look up at the sky. It has a weird almost purplish color. And the vegetation all around me seem to be bluish green. First sign that I need to take my meds. Or get drunk. I choose getting drunk. Doesn't come with any of those unwanted side effects like drowsiness, dizziness, and vomiting. Oh, wait. Yes it does. But it's still more fun.

I make my way through the sugarcane field to get back to town, and look for that watering hole.

That's strange. Should have reached the dirt road by now. The sugarcane plants here are about seven feet high. Makes it difficult to see where I'm going. Should have asked Nina to walk me out.

I turn back to ask Nina for help. Except after some minutes of walking, I can't seem to find my way back to her hut either. I'm lost! Starting to feel some panic here. I could call Bea. She knows her way around these parts, even if she's not a local. But that's gonna be embarrassing. I decide to walk a few more minutes in search of the shack.

Nothing. Just sugarcane plants all around me. Starting to get dark.

Fuck it. I'm calling Bea. I'm gonna be the laughing stock at the station for weeks. I take out my phone, and look through the contacts.

“Oh, Wilbur....” I hear Eddie eerily call.

That's the second sign. Eddie's the voice in my head. My shrink says he's my subconscious. My priest says he's my guardian angel. I think he's a pain in the ass.

“Go away, Eddie,” I mumble, frantically fiddling with my phone.

“You've been ignorin' me, Wilbur. That hurts ma' feelin's.”

I dial Bea. Feels like it's taking her forever to pick up. Starting to sweat now, and it's not because of the heat. See, Eddie is like harbinger of my insanity. Once I hear him, the truly scary shit can't be so far behind.

That's it. I'm taking my meds. I fumble inside my coat pockets for the prescription bottle.

“Get out of my head, Eddie,” I tell him. “You're not real.”

“Oh, I'm just about as real as that thing stalking you in this field.”

“What-?”

I hear a low growl coming from somewhere behind the tall, stout, jointed stems. I swallow hard. Some of the sugarcane plants fall as this thing starts to near me.

I nervously take out my gun, and fire a warning shot in the air. Some birds in the distance squawk in protest. But in stead of being deterred, the growling thing increases its pace! Its heavy treads thud noisily against the earth.

“Run, Wilbur! Run!” Eddie shouts.

I fire twice in the direction of the beast. It's snarling savagely, perhaps hungrily, now. It's almost on me!

I turn and run, barreling through rows and rows of sugarcane plants! Can't see a damn thing! But I can hear the monster closing in behind me. Where the hell is that dirt road?! Where the hell is anything else aside form sugarcane plants, for that matter?! It's like the whole planet is suddenly covered in them!

Running out of breath. I'm never gonna be able to out run this thing. Do or die time, mother fucker!

I turn. In the darkness, and in all this thick vegetation, I can almost discern the creature's form now. It's big as a grizzly, with mangled, black fur, and angry, glowing red eyes!

I empty the pistol's entire magazine into it! Why save the bullets? Not like I can take it with me once this thing rips me to shreds.

I hear a yelp. And then the beast crashes heavily into the ground.

Silence. Nothing but the sound of my frightened, hard breathing.

I eject the clip, replace it, then take a very cautious step forward to check on what this thing really is.

But before I could get a good look, something hard whacks me at the back of my head! I drop the pistol. My vision blurs. The whole freaking world is spinning! I fall hard on my knees. I fight to maintain consciousness.

“Another one?” the voice of an elderly woman croaks. “Why are there so many of you lately?!”

“I blame the stress of modern society,” I answer.

She strikes me hard across the back! I fall flat on my face. Man, she's strong for an old woman.

“You think I wanted to kill that boy?! I had no choice!” Nicole persists. “If you had seen what I saw,...! That fool, Nina couldn't see it. Her powers are too weak. But I saw it!”

“So you see scary shit, too. Join the club,” I say, forcing myself on my back.

What I see is far more frightening than her familiar.

My vision is still a little fuzzy, but I can tell that something is very wrong with this old lady. She has a hunched posture. She is incredibly thin. Balding with lank hair in the back of her skull. An inhumanly long, hooked nose in the middle of her face, like the beak of a vulture.

“So you see me as I really am,” she realizes from my horrified expression. “Your power is far greater than Ian's. Perhaps greater than Nina's. This makes you even more dangerous.”

She releases the wooden club in her bony hand, and takes what looks like some kind of ceremonial dagger from her belt.

I just lie there, helpless. But she doesn't go for the kill. In fact, it's like her whole body has been frozen stiff!

Then I become aware of Nina, chanting zealously in some language that I don't understand.

Been living in this country for some time now, and I still only know the curse words.

“Foolish child,” Nicole hisses.

She waves her hand, and then Nina squeals as some invisible force knocks her down several feet away.

Nicole cackles, apparently proud of this feat.

I respond by kicking in her kneecap. Not the most gentlemanly thing in the world, kicking a frail, old woman in the knee. I know. But hey, desperate times, right?

She howls in pain. I quickly retrieve my pistol, and shoot a hole in her palm, causing her to drop the knife.

She then collapses, cradling her injured hand.

#

I've taken my meds. My head is clear, and the world is normal again. Well, about as normal as it can be. They found Nicole's dead familiar, which turned out to be nothing more than a really big mongrel. And Nicole, while still a really gaunt crone, is not the hook nosed witch I mistook her for. Would get into trouble for kicking the frail, old lady's knee in, (police brutality and all of that) if Nina wasn't there to testify that I was desperately defending myself. (Yeah, my cop buddies are gonna heckle me non stop for that one, too.) Maybe I should offer to repair her shack some to thank her. It also helps that Nicole had murdered an innocent minor. So she's not about to get any sympathy from anyone. Least of all, a judge.

“How's your head?” Bea asks me, as I enjoy the mountain view, while leaning my ass on the trunk of a parked squad car.

She hands me a cup of coffee.

“Well, I'm crazy already, so it's not like she can damage my brain any further.”

She laughs quietly, and leans on the trunk next to me, her own cup of warm coffee in her hand.

“Thanks for helping me with the case, by the way.”

I slightly raise my cup in response, before taking a sip.

She adds, “But did you really need to kick the frail, old lady's knee in-?”

“Don't start with that again.”

“I mean, she had a knife. You had a gun-”

“She hit me in the back of the head, alright?! I was dazed, confused-!”

“OK, OK, I'm just teasing!”

She laughs again. Not as quietly, this time.

“Hey,” I say after a few seconds.

“What?”

“It's nothing,” I stop myself from asking her out.

Don't want it to seem like she's obligated to go out with me because I just nearly died doing her a favor.

“Wilbur?”

“What?”

“You wanna go out?”

END