Hell's Detective

Chapter Twenty-nine- A Sign

Follows walked down the lonely streets of Hollowsville, thinking that, really, he wouldn't miss this place at all. He'd traded awkward goodbyes with the staff at the orphanage. There was something about bringing you to the Antichrist so he could sacrifice you that just put a damper on farewells. He didn't blame them, not really. If they hadn't done it, Samael wouldn't have hesitated in killing every child there. But it was the little things he couldn't bring himself to do around them anymore, like look them in the eye or smile. From what he understood, it was Louis who had been influencing the children the entire time. Spicer's demon hadn't even been aware of his existence. With her out of the way, he'd threatened the teachers to get Follows down to the slaughterhouse in time for the sacrifice. Follows sighed. The only thing he really regretted leaving was Ruth. If she hadn't tricked him into becoming a catalyst for a demonic ritual, he really could have seen a future between them.

The air shifted behind him, and he turned around.

"Where the hell have you been?" he hissed.

"I was busy," Zadrian said.

"Busy? I almost died. Twice."

"The demon," he said. "Did you find it?"

"It's gone. That's not the problem. Zadrian, it's the Antichrist. He was here. On Earth."

If Zadrian was surprised by this, he didn't show it. "But not anymore?"

Follows shook his head. "He's gone. I don't know where, but he's gone. But it's impossible, isn't it? The Devil can't have a son."

"Apparently he does," Zadrian said, like they were discussing the weather.

"What does that mean?" Follows asked slowly.

"That we're running out of time."

Follows put a hand out in front of him. "Zadrian, stop." He did. "How big is this? Should I be frightened?"

Zadrian fixed him with a look. "What do you want me to tell you?"

"The truth."

"You want the truth?" He took a step closer. "Yes, you should be frightened. You should have been frightened all along. Every bad thing, every evil the Devil has ever created wants the Saviour dead, and they will kill me, you, and everyone else who gets in their way to do it. The Devil wants an army, and he wants the Antichrist to lead them. And without the Saviour, that could very well become a reality."

"And what happens then?" Follows asked, even though he didn't really want to know the answer.

"Then? Then the Earth will burn."

"Ah," Follows said. He wanted to scream. He wanted Zadrian to do something, to save them. That was his job, wasn't it? Why the hell was he being so calm about this? Follows was beginning to feel light headed. Was this panicking? It felt like panicking. "So we'd better stop that from happening, then?"

"That would be desirable."

"Where do we start?"

"Not we," he said. "Me. You need to stay in Hollowsville. Your work here isn't quite done."

"What work? I found the son of the Devil, what more can there be?"

Zadrian didn't meet his eye. "I don't know."

Follows laughed, not that anything about this was particularly funny. "Oh, I see. This is a you-and-God-secret-club thing going on, isn't it?" It was like he was at school with two giggling girls gossiping about him behind his back. They knew what was going to happen to him while he was just left to stumble along his chosen path and hopefully not get killed along the way.

"Whatever God needs you to do, he will reveal in due time," Zadrian said firmly.

Follows wondered if they taught angels these annoying little answers. Like when they were kids- made them stand up in front of the class and recite them over and over again.

"So, what?" Follows asked. "I just wait around for a sign to pop up and tell me exactly what that is?"

At that moment, a sleek, black-tinted car pulled up beside them.

The back door opened, and a middle aged woman dressed far too young poked her head out. "Reverend Follows?" she said in a sugary voice.

Why did everyone in this town seem to know who he was? Was there a sign somewhere he wasn't aware of? Was he in the newspaper? Was everyone connecting through some sort of psychic link that seemed to centre around him?

"Yes..."

"Get in." It wasn't a request.

Follows glanced behind him. Zadrian was nowhere to be seen.

Typical.

He bent down and got into the car. The woman whistled, and it roared into life.

"Laura Johnson," she said, sticking a ringed hand out.

Follows took it cautiously. "Ben Follows."

"I know."

"Yeah, there's been a lot of that going around," he muttered.

"I've heard a lot of great things about you, Reverend," she said.

"I'm not a reverend." He paused. "What exactly is it you want?"

She tittered like a little bird. "Not one for small talk, I see. I'll cut right to the chase. How much?"

"Sorry?"

"For your services," she said. "Name your price. I'll pay it."

"I don't charge people for exorcisms," he said slowly.

Laura smirked. "Really?"

"Really," he insisted.

"In my experience, nothing in this world is free. People who have the capacity to help others will always do it for a price."

"Well, not me."

Laura studied him for a moment, like she was waiting for the punch line of some elaborate joke. She took a deep breath and said, "My daughter, Pippin, has been acting strangely. At first I thought it was just her age, hormones and what not, but now I think it's something...else."

"Something else?"

Laura had a young face, which Follows thought had less to do with natural beauty and more to do with regular clinic appointments. But now her eyes were old. Old and heavy.

"A few months ago, my daughter was quiet, conservative. The top of her class in almost every subject. Now she's at a different boy's house every night, her teachers have been calling me up saying she's been displaying violent behaviours, she turns livid if she doesn't get what she wants." She paused, dabbed delicately at her eyes with a tissue. "And she screams every night. Says she has bad dreams. When I was a child at church, they told me about creatures controlling people- making them do things, hurt people. If this is true, if this is what's happened to Pippin, can you help her?"

She was desperate, he could tell. And she had good reason to be, these were all classic signs of demonic possession.

They were also classic signs of being a teenager.

But if these past weeks had taught him anything, it was that nothing was ever normal in Hollowsville.

"Yes," he said.