The Sensitives Page 8

  “My daddy molested me,” she would repeat every now and then. It was like she was stuck on repeat. A toy doll that could only say one thing.

  And the way she said it… It was so bouncy, so playful. It was like she was saying, “I’d like a lolly,” or, “Would you like to play with me?”

  Her hands remained at perfect symmetry to each other at all times, resting on each knee. She wore a spotty t-shirt and a frilly skirt. The skirt rode up her legs, as if intentionally. She sat with legs wide open, a playful glint in her eyes filled with lust.

  Which was ridiculous to think. Perverted, even.

  It’s a nine-year-old girl, for Christ’s sake.

  He’d met many women who attempted to use their sexuality to distract the man questioning them. Particularly hookers guilty of drugs or theft.

  But to accuse a young girl – a child – of doing it was preposterous.

  Yet, there was something remotely lechorous in the way she sat, peering at the man looking toward her.

  There were some ridiculous theories floating around that this girl was possessed.

  Maybe.

  “Jesus,” he growled at himself, leaning back in his chair.

  What was wrong with him? Accusing a little girl of not only trying to seduce an officer but being possessed.

  It really was time to go home.

  His bed was calling him, home to what was likely an angry wife.

  As was his half-empty bottle of whiskey stood solitary on his desk.

  A dirty tumbler glass waiting to be filled and weakly sipped.

  Yet, despite willing himself to get up, get his coat, and get going, he couldn’t. He felt compelled to keep watching. Keep thinking. Find the answer.

  He paused the video.

  And froze.

  “What the fuck…”

  This time he knew he should go home and go to bed.

  Because at the exact moment he had paused it…

  On the frozen screen in front of him…

  The innocent little girl’s eyes flickered red, and a contorted shadow spread across the wall behind her.

  22

  The stars hung gracefully in the still night sky. The sun had long since set, and the tranquillity of the restful dark painted the night sky with harmony.

  A run-down hotel stood loosely beside an empty car park. Cars could be heard speeding across the nearby motorway, and the ‘o’ sign for ‘hotel’ flickered erratically.

  Inside a busy hotel room, April lay casually on the bed. Oscar perched on the end, watching Julian, who paced back and forth agitatedly. Julian continually muttered to himself, and Oscar could only just pick out odd snippets such as, “No no no,” “Think, damn it,” and, “Why her?”

  Oscar glanced over his shoulder at April, who simply played on her phone, not paying any attention. She was evidently used to Julian’s frantic pacing back and forth, and Oscar could imagine it being a frequent occurrence whilst they were in the midst of an investigation.

  Oscar still couldn’t entirely believe what had happened. Had he really seen a girl levitate? How had her eyes become red? And how did she make such an impossibly low-pitched noise?

  No longer did he feel foolish in admitting that he was beginning to believe what they were telling him.

  “Right!” Julian abruptly declared. “I’ve got it.”

  April put her phone away and listened, prompting Oscar to also pay attention.

  “I am going to make a phone call to grant consent for an exorcism,” he decided. “Then – I am going to bed.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, he marched out the door and his footsteps grew faint as they disappeared down the corridor.

  Oscar turned to April, slightly bemused. An instant decision for quite an extreme solution – an exorcism – then bolting out the door to sleep.

  “Don’t worry about it,” April reassured him, as if reading his mind. “You’ll get used to his erratic ways.”

  “What’s his deal?” Oscar asked, turning himself around so he was sitting cross-legged on the bed, leaning comfortably towards April. “I mean, he seems quite intense.”

  “Yeah, he can be. But he’s good at what he does.”

  Oscar nodded, giving a slight chuckle.

  April leant forward, echoing Oscar’s body language. His whole body shook. They were so close he could see the various shades of red on her lip. Her welcoming scent clung to the air around him, filling his belly with fluttering butterflies. Her eyes were focussed on his; her wide, big, blue eyes.

  “So, Oscar,” she began, putting her hands on his legs in a friendly gesture that shot through him in a lightning strike of lust. “What’s your deal?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked faintly, full of nerves.

  “What’s your family?”

  “Well, I have a mum, a dad, a cat… that’s pretty much it. No brothers or sisters or anything.”

  “What are your mum and dad like?”

  “Well, she’s horrible, but I think that’s just because I’ve let them down....” He thought about it for a few moments. “They used to be amazing. Supportive, loving. Best I could hope for.” He dropped his head. “More than I deserve, I guess. I… I’ve been a bit of a let-down. I don’t know, I just never really had much ambition.”

  Oscar stopped himself talking, as he realised how much unprompted information he was giving. She didn’t need to know this. Why would she even care?

  It was at this point he realised just how lonely he was. The first point of human contact and he was spilling his guts. First time being this close to a female, and he was sat there with his hormones raging.

  “So I guess working at Morrison’s your entire life isn’t really your ambition?”

  Oscar chuckled.

  “No.”

  “Well, now you’re a Sensitive. You’ll never have to work there again.”

  Lifting his head with a genuine smile, he thought about what that would be like. Working with April, day after day, solving people’s ghostly problems. It was a dream.

  “What about you?” Oscar prompted. “What’s your, like, powers?”

  “My gift,” she began, stressing the world gift, “is that I can act as a conduit. I can sense that not of this world, in a similar way to how you can see it.”

  “What’s a conduit?”

  “A conduit,” she began, edging closer still, smiling at him, “is someone who acts as, like, an empty house, for someone from the other side to stay in when we need to talk.”

  “So, you have, like, demons and stuff inside of you?”

  “In a way, yes.”

  “What’s that like?”

  “I don’t know, I kind of take a back seat when it happens. They take the house, and I go sit in the garden.”

  She laughed at her ridiculous analogy. Her laughter was heavenly, a joyous sound Oscar could listen to all day.

  “What about your parents, your family?” Oscar asked.

  Then the smile went.

  Her whole face changed. Her eyes briefly lingered on his, then looked away. Her smile faded to a frown and she anxiously bit her lip. Her body that had only moments before been leant toward him in an upright position, entering his personal space, was now hunched over. Her hands ran over her arms, warming them.

  She stood, meandering to the window, away from Oscar. Away from the perfect situation they had just shared.

  “I’m sorry, April, I–”

  “We have a long day tomorrow,” she interrupted. “You should go to your room. Go to sleep.”

  She didn’t avert her solemn gaze from the window. She looked so lonely, a solitary being in need of love.

  But Oscar didn’t know how to give that to her. It wasn’t like he was particularly experienced with girls. It wasn’t like he knew how to break down someone’s defences and get through to them, to beseech them to share their deepest, darkest secrets, to reveal their ghosts.

  So he stood, looked at her one more time, and turned. Shoving
his hands in his pockets, and ruing himself for ruining such a perfect moment, he left the room.

  Shortly after, he crawled into bed in the room next door.

  Though he was sure he could hear a faint sobbing from the other side of the wall.

  23

  Humidity hung in the morning air. A soft breeze accompanied, but did little to quell the heat.

  Oscar didn’t mind. This was how he liked it. Warm.

  He couldn’t stand the cold.

  Glancing at his watch, he willed April to hurry up. He was stood beside the car with Julian in awkward silence.

  Julian didn’t seem perturbed by it. He stood casually, smoothly leant against his car with an air of patience. Like waiting for April was something he was used to.

  Oscar was not so relaxed. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his legs growing increasingly tired from standing still. He occasionally glanced at Julian but tried not to stare, in fear that Julian would reciprocate his glance and the situation would grow even more uncomfortable.

  “Relax,” Julian eventually spoke. “You’re wasting energy.”

  Oscar tried to stand still. He would get in the car, but it was too hot to even touch. The metal rims and the car seat needed cooling, and the air conditioning seemed to be doing little about it.

  “So…” Oscar attempted, deciding to break the silence. “How long have you known April?”

  Julian looked to Oscar with an expression full of irritation. As if he was perturbed to be having his thoughts disrupted by meaningless chatter.

  “A while.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Oscar nodded, trying to think of another question to ask but coming up short.

  “Why do you ask?” Julian blankly prompted, his eyes squinting sceptically toward Oscar like he was a mugger asking for the time.

  “I don’t know, just wondered.”

  “You’re not growing an extra fondness for our April, are you?” Julian folded his arms and raised his eyebrows.

  Oscar couldn’t lie. He was an awful liar.

  “Well, yeah, she’s all right, I guess. She’s cool. I like her.”

  Julian took a moment to survey the nearby surroundings, then turned his face to Oscar, focussing dead on his eyes.

  “If you so much as touch her, I’ll break your legs.”

  Oscar froze.

  Did he just hear that right?

  His hands twitched clumsily. An inept stuttering bounced out of his quivering lips.

  “What?” Oscar asked, attempting to sound big and confident, but only coming out as a whisper.

  “You heard,” Julian replied. “I’ve been with April for years.”

  “You mean, you’re with her?”

  “No, you dope. As in, we’ve been doing this for years. I picked her up off the streets when she was fifteen.”

  Oscar’s jaw dropped. He did not know this.

  “What happened?”

  “She ran away from home at fourteen when she decided she’d rather the streets than her parents.”

  “Oh my God, I didn’t know…”

  “I found her a year later, living in a cheap sleeping bag on the porch of a broken-down shop. I could tell there was something about her. See, that’s part of my gift – I can see this in others.”

  “She actually lived on the streets?”

  “I helped April to harness her gift, to use it. I’ve watched her grow into the woman she is today. And I wouldn’t stand by as some little dweeb undoes all that.”

  As if by perfect timing, April appeared from her room and sauntered over to them.

  Oscar remained transfixed, rooted to the spot, staring open-mouthed at April as she strutted sexily toward them. He was attracted to her, he couldn’t deny that – except, now there was something else. A new found respect. Living on the streets a fourteen.

  To have overcome such things…

  It was remarkable.

  And to think he was complaining to her last night that his parents were too supportive, and wanted him to have ambitions.

  I’m such a doofus.

  “Here she is,” Julian greeted her. “Did you lose your way?”

  “Hardy har!” April mockingly retorted, then turned to Oscar and gave him a sneaky wink. “Mornin’, squirt.”

  Julian and April climbed into the front of the car. Oscar had to quickly bring himself back to earth and remind himself to take his seat in the back.

  Growing up on the streets? Sleeping on the porch of a broken-down shop?

  He didn’t take his eyes from her for the entire drive.

  No wonder Julian was so protective.

  24

  Oscar stood alone at the back of the room, watching Julian prepare for the exorcism with a perfectionist’s precision. It was like watching an obsessive doctor prepare his tools for surgery. Every item was taken out of his bag, held, meticulously contemplated, and laid out in perfect symmetry upon a table next to him.

  The final three items were withdrawn with such care it was like Julian was nursing a child.

  With gentle hands he lifted a pristine, leather-bound book with nothing but a gold cross indented on it, which glinted in the faint lamplight. He briefly rested it against his forehead, closing his eyes, breathing it in, then placed it perfectly upon the table beside him. He opened it to a specific section, where he ran his hand over the thin pages to ensure there were no creases.

  He withdrew a small set of rosary beads. They were like an old, string necklace, with black circles decorating the length of its body. At the end was a small, silver cross. Julian wrapped the string around his right hand a few times until it was firmly in place, and lifted the cross to his mouth. He gently placed a soft, lingering kiss upon it, closing his eyes and taking a deep moment of scrutinising thought.

  Following this, he placed the rosary beads around his neck and tucked them beneath his shirt.

  Finally, and most mysteriously, he withdrew a picture. Oscar didn’t manage to get a decent glance of this picture but was sure it was of a young woman he didn’t recognise.

  Julian stole a brief glance at this photo and tucked it into his inside pocket.

  “Leave me,” Julian instructed. “I need to say my final prayers. I will let April know when to bring the girl.”

  Julian’s eyeline didn’t falter from the empty bed and the vacant restraints beneath him. Despite giving orders, his demands were gently spoken. His eyes glazed over as if in a translucent state, within a deep, mental preparation.

  Oscar complied without hesitation and left the room. He made his way down the hallway to the closed door of the child’s bedroom, where April stood.

  “How is he?” April asked.

  “Fine, I guess,” Oscar answered honestly, having no reference of comparison to know whether Julian’s preparations were the norm. “Is Kaylee okay?”

  “She’s in there with her parents now.”

  Oscar held April’s eye contact. They shared a moment of content silence. It felt like they were preparing for battle; as if a solemn, devastating act was about to take place. Everyone was speaking so quietly, acting so serenely. Like it was the calm before the storm.

  “Julian said you’d know when to bring the girl.”

  “Yeah,” April confirmed, nodding. “He normally needs a bit of time to prepare.”

  “He had a photo that he put in his pocket. What was it?”

  April’s head dropped. She flexed her fingers and curled her hands into fists, doing her best to mask her discomfort. After gathering her thoughts, she lifted her head and fixed her eyes on Oscar’s.

  “It’s of a young woman,” April informed him, speaking slowly and softly. An assured solemnness echoed in her voice. “It is the photograph of the first woman he ever performed an exorcism on. He was one of only around ten people the church allowed to perform an exorcism, despite not being an ordained priest. He was taught along with a few other Sensitives by a man called Derek Lansdale. I know you don’t know who he is, but if you did,
trust me,you’d be impressed.”

  “That’s a bit weird though, isn’t it?” Oscar mused. “I mean, why does he need to carry a photo of his first exorcism around?”

  April hesitated. She pursed her lips and gave a slight, unconscious shake of the head.

  “Because she died, Oscar,” April finally admitted. “Julian did his best, but the girl did not survive.”

  “She died?” Oscar was agape. “I didn’t realise someone could die in something like this!”

  “Oh, yes, they definitely can. And they have. And Julian never forgets it.”

  Oscar was lost for words.

  Julian had lost a girl to death in an exorcism…

  How bad could it have been?

  Surely it was just saying a few words, babbling a few prayers, a spray of holy water, and it was done?

  “How…” he unintentionally gasped.

  “I don’t think you quite realise what is about to occur, do you, Oscar?”

  “I…”

  “An exorcism isn’t a wham, bam, thank you ma’am kind of thing. It can take hours. Sometimes days, weeks even. You are fighting something made of pure evil. Something that doesn’t give up without a fight.”

  “I… I don’t know what to say…”

  “An exorcism changes you, Oscar. Remember that.”

  The door behind Oscar creaked open, and Julian stepped halfway out.

  “I’m ready, April,” he spoke gently, and returned to the room.

  With a raise of her eyebrows Oscar interpreted as a gesture of “here we go,” she knocked on the door behind her.

  “It’s time,” she announced.

  A few moments passed and the door opened.

  Nancy stepped out, wiping the corners of her eyes with a tissue.

  Henry followed, placing an arm around his wife.

  This gave Oscar a chance to look at the little girl.

  But this was no little girl.

  In body, yes. But her face was deathly pale, and her eyes a fully dilated mixture of black and red. Her skin was torn, dirty fingernails were cracked, and the crotch of her ripped pyjamas was stained blood red.