My Best Friend's Exorcism(87)

Gretchen yawned, and a roach crawled out of her mouth, brushed her nostrils with its antenna, crawled up her cheek, over her temple, and disappeared into her hair. She yawned wider and a swarm of roaches exploded from her mouth, scuttling off in different directions. Some of them ran up the wall, occasionally losing their grip and plopping to the floor; others scurried down the mattress, and still more blanketed her face and body, burrowing into her tank top, crawling into the legs of her shorts.

Abby raced to the bed and swatted them away, sweeping the bugs off her friend’s belly and hips and chest as fast as she could. Andras made Gretchen grin and chew. She crunched roaches, their yellow creamy mash squeezing between her teeth.

“Stop!” Abby said, slapping roaches off Gretchen’s cheeks. “Stop it!”

Then Gretchen’s left eye twitched, and a bloodworm squirmed out of her tear duct, curling itself over the bridge of her nose. Bugs were clittering, chattering, twitching, rustling, hissing, latching onto Abby, seething around her feet, clinging to her fingers and the sides of her palms, swarming up her arms and legs. She jerked backward, screaming, and her back smashed into the wall.

Andras started to laugh as Abby ran from the guest bedroom crying and babbling, sweeping roaches from her hair, swiping them from her body, running for the bathroom. She crashed through the door and turned on the light, ready to leap into the shower, then she looked in the mirror and froze.

No bugs. They were all gone. Abby even checked down her pants and inside her shirt, but there wasn’t a single bug to be found.

She went back into the bedroom, where Andras was waiting. No bugs there, either.

“Do you think you stand a chance?” Andras said. “You’re not getting out of this alive.”

Without hesitation, Abby marched to the dresser and picked up the Bible and Brother Lemon’s paper.

“Your name is Andras,” Abby said, reading from Brother Lemon’s notes. “You have a smile like fire and eyes like thunder, and you make servants kill their masters and children kill their parents. You are the devourer of stars, the destroyer of time, the rash solution, the cleaving that can never be rejoined, giver of dooming rage.”

“So you’ve heard of me,” Andras said. “So fucking what?”

“You are one of the most powerful demons in hell,” Abby continued, rolling over the interruption. “You start wars and slaughter millions. You’re the bomb, the MX missile, the mushroom cloud that covers the world.”

“And you’re just a stupid little girl!” Andras shouted.

“And I’m just a stupid little girl!” Abby shouted back. “But I will not stop because you have my best friend and I am coming for her! Do you hear me? I am coming for her and there is nothing you can do, because I will not stop, I will never stop, I will never give up because I want my friend back!”

As Abby screamed, Andras laughed in a voice that came from deep inside Gretchen. The next time Andras spoke, she was speaking two languages simultaneously. One was German, the other was something much older.

“Ich Ils werde viv dich malpirgi zu salman Tode de ficken Donasdogamatatastos wirst ds du Acroodzi sterben bvsd, und bliorax sterben balit und Ds sterben insi allein caosg schreien lusdan immer pvrgel und Micalzo in chis Angst Satan vor od Gott fafen ist Zacare tot ca Gott od sei zamran tot Odo ist cicle alles qaa! tot Zorge in dir meine schwarze Krallen Zir ziehen noco! das Hoath Herz Satan in Bvfd Stücke lonsh wie londoh faules babage Obst Chirlan! und A ich bvsd am de Fest vovim der Ar Schmerzen i aller homtoh gebrochenen od Stellen gohed! in Irgil dir chis alle ds Entt?uschungen paaox alles i Leben bvsd Sie De caosgo alle ds Leute, chis die od ip Vran Sie teloah verraten cacrg iad gnai loncho”

Abby fell to her knees, clapping her palms to the sides of her head as warm fluid leaked from her ears. Then the impossible sound stopped and there was just Gretchen’s voice again, grunting in agony, panting and wheezing.

“Help me . . . oh God, help me, Abby, help me . . .”

With great big meaty pops of cartilage, Gretchen’s hands began to stretch. Abby scrabbled for the paper and read as loudly as she could.

“Demon,” she said over the sound of cracking knuckles, “I command you once more, I command you, unclean spirit, tell me the hour and time of your departure—”

Gretchen’s arms were stretching, too. Her elbows dislocated, then her shoulders. Her kneecaps popped loose as her legs began to stretch, her toes dislocating, one by one.

“The power of Christ compels you!” Abby shouted, trying to sound strong. “Leave this woman! Begone!”

Gretchen whimpered like Good Dog Max, and now her palms stretched down to her knees and her feet were hanging off the end of the bed. With a gristly rip, her neck began to stretch.

“The light of God surrounds me,” Abby read. “The love of God enfolds me. The power of God protects me. The presence of God watches over me. Wherever I am, God is. And all is well. And all is well. And all is well.”

“Make it stop, Abby,” Gretchen cried. “Stop . . . stop . . . stop. . .”

Her neck stretched another inch. Abby hoped it was an illusion, like the roaches. Abby prayed it was an illusion.

“Gek!” Gretchen gasped as her vocal cords went tight.

An icy wind kicked up and blew through the room, stinking of manure. The overhead light dimmed to brown, then flared, then flickered.