Rise of the Nephilim (2 page)

The Vatican Library engulfed Jude with stone and paper, as he poured over the case documents provided to him by Father Gallo. For almost a week, he had studied every minute detail in hope of discovering any clues or links that may have caused each person to be possessed. As he expected, though, most of the transcripts of the rituals were filled more with religious prayers and scripts than objective observation. It was impressive how dedicated the exorcists were to staying on mission, given the circumstances, but any rants from the entities possessing their victims contained no real substance, as far as he could tell. Almost every dialogue consisted of screams and curses leveled at the priests and graphic descriptions of how their hosts would be harmed.

It was common lore that possessions occurred to people that opened themselves up to it, but it was hard to believe that all of these people had simply asked to be taken over. He had read about housewives, school children, college students, and businessmen, all of which had no discernable common factor. Most of the victims were even active in the Church and were not what one would consider easy prey. He was getting nowhere fast with the material at hand. He decided he needed to widen his search outside of the Christian realm to see if he could pick up any missing threads and turned to his laptop.

Father Gallo approached him a few minutes later. “Any luck, Jude?” the priest asked expectantly.

“I haven’t found any kind of connection between the victims yet to explain why they were targeted. None of them were especially bad or dabbled in the occult. There’s not even a good sample of age, gender, or occupation,” Jude replied with exasperation as he continued typing on his computer. “I can tell you one more thing. This isn’t just happening in Christian areas. It’s happening all over the world.”

He spun the laptop around, so Father Gallo could see the search results.

“Look here, Antonio, I’ve come across reports out of the Middle East of Djinn, Hindu stories of vengeful spirits torturing families, and Oni in Japan. Most of these reports are only about 50 years old or less, too. There is definitely something going on, but I just can’t figure out why things have seemingly escalated. My first instinct would be to say that more reports are simply being recorded due to better technology and communication, but more of these reports should have also been debunked by advances in medical science.”

The priest ran his fingers through his hair. “I have been so engrossed in my own work, that I haven’t had the opportunity to look outside of the Church. If what you say is true, then that is truly concerning. What have you heard in your time with the show?”

Sullivan shook his head. “We have picked up some shadows and voices on camera, but you have to remember we deal more with other general topics like myths and cryptozoology. Demons and ghosts are a sliver of what we cover. I would definitely like to observe one of your exorcisms, though.”

The priest looked taken aback. “
Signore
Sullivan, an exorcism is a sacred rite of the Catholic Church! It is not a ritual to be taken lightly. There is always a chance you could get hurt, plus you would need the proper clearances!”

“Father, the one thing I see missing from all of these interviews is any answer as to why this is happening. All the members of your order are too focused on casting these things out. I am not saying it is any fault of your own, because that is how you are trained to deal with the situation. Not once, though, have I heard someone ask why a demon took someone or what they plan to do once it has control. They seem to be the most talkative during the ritual, so I want to be there and perform my own interrogation.”

Gallo stepped back from the table and crossed his arms in thought. “I make no promises, but if you think this is the best way to get some answers, then I will do my best to get you what you need. We actually have a case that needs to be investigated, so I will let you know by tomorrow morning if things go well.”

“Neither of us will be disappointed, I hope.” Jude assured him, as he looked down to resume his research.

Jude drove a rented Hyundai north out of Atlanta, Georgia, as he fought jet lag from the fourteen hour flight to the United States. Father Gallo stared out of the window at the greenery surrounding him, as they left the outskirts of the city.

“I forget just how beautiful the natural world is. Days like this remind me how much time I spend cloistered behind stone walls.”

Jude laughed, “I could use a little less of it. I spent two weeks in the jungles of Papua New Guinea last month.”

Father Gallo smiled at Jude. “You were born in this area of the country, weren’t you?”

“It was a town about as big as the one we’re driving toward. So many people are content to grow up and die in the same area in which they were born and never learn anything about the world. I was never like that. Remember how much I used to sneak out of the dormitories and explore the streets of Paris? I used to read about so many wondrous places and possibilities that I outgrew my little prison long before I could actually leave. To me, towns like those are like terrariums. People can see what’s happening on the outside, but it’s like it is happening on another planet. Even worse, everyone knows everything you do. People who complain that government spying is a major privacy problem have never lived in a town of a few thousand people.”

“Do you miss it at all?” Gallo asked curiously.

“Of course I do. People are closer to each other than I’ve seen in larger cities, for better or for worse. I would just rather visit now and then, that’s all. After a few days, I can usually get my fill, but it’s a matter of preferences, really.”

“I think I can understand. I will always miss my hometown of Venice, but growing up in Venice never made me love the sea,” the priest chuckled.

Jude smiled. “Exactly! So, what are the details of this case again?”

Gallo reached for his leather briefcase, pulled out a sheaf of loose papers, and began to recite the dossier. “The boy’s name is Daniel Hawkins, 15 years old. He lives in Peach Valley, Georgia, and attends the local Church of God. He is also an honor student at the local high school. All things considered, he is a normal boy. His father died almost a year ago, so he currently lives only with his mother. About six months ago, he began having strange seizures and speaking in unrecognizable tongues while he was at church. His congregation thought he was filled with the Holy Spirit, so they continued to let him go on untreated, until his condition started worsening.”

Father Gallo paused his summary to look at Jude. “Seriously, what is wrong with Protestants?”

Jude shrugged, giving his best ‘don’t look at me’ expression. “Some strange denominations pop up in these parts. It’s the mountain air,” he suggested.

“Anyway,” Gallo continued, “he became violent for no reason and was arrested after attempting to stab a fellow classmate. His psychiatrist diagnosed him with an acute Multiple Personality Disorder. He was subsequently released to his mother’s care, under the condition that he be confined to the house and given an ankle monitor to prevent him from running away and causing harm to himself or others. The mother states that since he has been confined to the house, they have witnessed paranormal events on more and more frequent basis. She has invited members of her church to visit and pray over him, but he laughs at them and tells them things they dared not repeat in their statements.

According to her, whatever lives in that house is no longer her son, and she came to the Catholic Church as a last resort. Our own medical consultants have no explanation, so they forwarded the case to the IAE. Normally, we would contact one of our American affiliates to tend to this case, but our involvement seemed the most expedient way to meet your request.”

Jude nodded, as he turned the vehicle onto a perpendicular highway. “Seems like a great start. We should be there in a couple of hours. Would you like to try some Southern cooking? I just saw a sign for a Cracker Barrel at the next exit.”

“I’m always open to local cuisine,” replied Gallo.

Jude snorted at that comment, “That’s about as local as you can get.”

A few hours later, they rolled onto a washed-out gravel driveway and slowed to a stop in front of a white two-story house separated from its neighbors on all sides by woods. The house was a traditional cottage style with the quintessential front porch and bench swing. The surrounding yard looked unkempt, maybe two or three weeks of growth, but the edge of the property near the woods had been surrendered back to nature. An unrecognizable mid-twentieth century style automobile chassis sat near the back of the house next to an old garage. Jude guessed it was an abandoned restoration project, but it was possible it could simply been left to rot years ago.

The two men emerged from the car and stretched, as they walked to the front door. Jude spied a curtain move near the front of the house, as they mounted the steps and heard a flurry of activity inside. It was obvious Mrs. Hawkins had been anticipating her guests’ arrival and was scrambling to make the final touches before opening the door.

He raised his hand to knock, but the front door opened before he could make contact with the wood. Standing just inside the doorway was a thin, brown-haired woman in a blue dress. Her eyes were tinged red from crying, but she did her best to don a genuine look of hospitality.

“Afternoon, y’all,” she said with a thick Southern drawl, as she opened the storm door. “I’m guessin’ you’re the priests?”

“I am, Mrs. Hawkins,” answered Father Gallo offering her his hand. “This is Mister Sullivan. He will be assisting me today.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am, regarding the circumstances,” added Jude, doing the same.

Mrs. Hawkins sniffed, holding back another bout of tears. “I just don’t know what to do anymore, especially since Danny’s father died… We’ve had all kinds of prayer vigils for Danny. Heck, we’ve even taken him to a whole mess of doctors. If you ask me, though, this whole multiple personality disorder deal is a bunch of hogwash! But where are my manners? Please, come on in.”

She motioned the two in the hallway and into the sitting room on the right.

“Y’all make yourselves at home, and I’ll bring y’all some sweet tea.” She said, walking toward the back of the house to the kitchen.

“Fair warning, Father, you may want to sip the tea. In these parts, it’s more syrup than beverage,” Jude stated. Father Gallo nodded in appreciation from his experience at lunch.

The two sat down and surveyed their surroundings. The room was bright and airy. It was decorated with what one would expect from a Georgian sitting room. The couch and love seat were both of a floral pattern situated around a glass coffee table with brass supports, topped with a vase of fresh roses. One wall contained a wood-burning fireplace for the winter with a flat screen television hung over the mantle. Decorative plates of woodland creatures hung on another wall, surrounding a curio cabinet of ceramic figurines.

Gallo began unloading official-looking papers from his briefcase and thumbed to an empty page in his notepad. Mrs. Hawkins returned shortly with a serving tray containing three glasses.

“Here y’all are,” she said as she placed the glasses on coasters on the coffee table.

“Thank you, madam,” Father Gallo began, as she took a seat across from them. “If you care to, I’d like to get down to business, so we can help your son as soon as possible.”

“Anything I can do to help, Father,” she replied eagerly.

“First of all, I need to stress that the rite of exorcism can be dangerous, both to the physical and mental well-being of the person being possessed. This is why we need you to sign this release form.” He passed her a small stack of papers and continued, “This acknowledges that both parties have determined the ritual to be a last resort in the treatment of the afflicted, but is no guarantee of positive results. Please understand, this isn’t meant to scare you in any way. I can personally say, that I pride myself in my success rate.”

Mrs. Hawkins nodded absently as she hurriedly signed the documents.

“Next, I need to ask a few questions, so I may get a proper understanding of the details of the situation. How is the boy right now?”

“He’s locked up in the basement as we speak,” was the tearful reply. “I just can’t deal with him anymore. Whatever is in him is pure evil, and I’m scared for myself.”

“Did you make preparations like we discussed on the phone?”

“Yes sir. I told all of my friends and neighbors not to call on me tonight.”

“Great. Thank you for your cooperation. Now I have some personal questions. Have you noticed any change in Danny’s behavior lately? Has he been dabbling in anything you can consider dark or Satanic? Please guide me through the details of the past few months.”

“I can’t recall anythin’ like that. I searched his room real good and found some music I didn’t approve of, but I didn’t see anythin’ all that bad. He took it real hard when his father died last year in an accident down at the quarry, bless his heart, and he’s had some trouble sleepin’ ever since. He’s always a nice quiet boy, though I really didn’t think nothing of it when he started actin’ strange. He just started speakin’ at church one day, and we all thought he’d been filled with the Holy Spirit. You know, First Corinthians 14:2 and all.”

Gallo interjected, “Those who speak in a tongue speak to God, but not to other people, because nobody understands them; they are speaking in the
Spirit
and the meaning is hidden.”

“That’s the one,” Mrs. Hawkins said smiling.

Gallo continued, “Doesn’t verse twenty-eight of the chapter say that if no interpreter is present let the speaker be silent?”

Mrs. Hawkins shot him an angry glance, “I don’t go around questionin’ the way you worship Mary over our lord Jesus, Mr. Gallo. It’s scandalous enough I’ve taken a Catholic priest into my own house without being insulted over my religion too”

“I apologize, ma’am. I am not familiar with your denomination’s tenets. I merely meant to ask if there was an interpreter around who could decipher what he was saying. I assure you we are both servants of Christ our Lord, regardless of the details.”

Sensing his earnest regret at his
faux pas
, Mrs. Hawkins relaxed from her defensive posture and continued. “Well, a while after that, he started gettin’ wild mood swings. He started lockin’ himself up in his room or runnin’ off into the woods. I figured it was just his hormones getting the best of him, but he kept getting more violent as the weeks went on. After he got arrested and expelled from school, it took all I had to maintain custody of him. I promised to home-school him and make sure he received proper medical treatment, but he started getting so bad I was scared for myself and anyone who came to the house. I had one of the deacons from the church come over to help me tie him down during his bad moments until they passed.”

Her composure failed at this point, and she began choking as she talked.

“About a month ago, this
thing
started talking to us. It started telling me how it was going to kill us all in our sleep and do unspeakable things to my body. It scared the deacon so bad, he refuses to come back by the house. It doesn’t matter, though, because I’m too scared to let him come anyway now. The demon is in control now more than my little boy is. I go down and take care of him whenever he lets Danny free for a little bit, but I’m afraid my boy’s soul is losing the fight. I’ve even thought about putting him out of his misery myself. I’m the worst mother in the world!”

At this point, she lost control and sobbed loudly into her hands.

Jude looked at Father Gallo, mortified. This woman just admitted to not only keeping her son hostage for almost month but to entertaining thoughts of murder! They needed to deal with this as quickly as possible.

Father Gallo gave him a knowing look, but kept his calm demeanor. He reached out for Mrs. Hawkins’s hands and held them while looking deep into her eyes. In a soft, assuring voice he said, “I promise upon all that is holy that we will give your son back to you as pure as he was before all of this began. With your permission, we’d like to begin.”

The widow nodded silently and stood up, waving them into the hall. “The door to the basement is over here next to the stairs. It’s a little steep, so watch your step. Please let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right up here.”