The Curse of the Spiral Eye

Chapter 2: [Unfinished]

"You're trying to tell me that this is some sort of demonic possession?" said Emily Parker, one finger tapping nervously on the edge of her bone china teacup. After the incident at the church Parker had insisted that Steele join he and his wife at his home, a small 3-bedroom number on the edge of Collette proper. The Reverend's wife was the very image of southern hospitality, with shoulder length black hair, a light blue stress that perfectly matched her eyes; and though her stomach was quite round with child she still managed to sit delicately on the edge of her chair, ankles crossed underneath, hands resting gently on her maternal burden. Upon her arrival Emily had led Steele inside with the promise of refreshments, and though she comported herself with all due gentility, Steele couldn't help but notice that the friendly smile didn't quite reach her eyes, and that every glance in her husband's direction was fraught with worry. Steele could see why. Parker looked for all intents and purposes as if he'd been mugged, or run over. Or both. Dirt, dust, and charred insect carcasses littered his clothing; there was a bloody tear in his once-white collared shirt at the right shoulder which Steele could tell at a glance would bruise badly; and there was a look of such shell-shocked bewilderment etched into his countenance, as if now that the adrenaline had finally left his system the small portion of his brain that had believed it could process this new and terrifying version of reality had just given final notice. Now the three of them sat in the Parkers' pastels-and-cream colored living room around a lukewarm pot of English Breakfast, the kind that comes in paper bags with strings attached that can only be described as tea in the loosest of senses, and Steele watched the couple with a bored sort of fascination as she tried to explain the nature of their predicament. Naturally, it wasn't going entirely well.

"Possession?" said Steele, knocking back her cuppa like a shot of whiskey, "Maybe. But definitely demonic."

"But that... that shouldn't be possible," said Emily, "That's not the way they interfere in our lives."

"Yes. Of course," said Parker, perking up slightly in the naïve and exhausted assumption that this entire matter could be resolved with a hearty philosophical discussion. "The threat of demons comes from their power to tempt. To corrupt the souls of men. They don't take physical form; they lurk within and aim to make us stray from the Lord's appointed path."

"Oh really?" said Steele, "And I suppose it makes more sense that swarms of flies just act as one sentient organism every now and again?"

At this Parker fell silent, earning Steele a reproach full glare from Emily. Steele sighed and popped a fresh piece of gum in her mouth.

"But how exactly do you know there isn't another explanation?" said Emily.

"Many reasons," said Steele, "But put simply there aren't a lot of creeps that could -"

"Beg your pardon," Emily interjected, "What do you mean by 'creeps'?"

"Shorthand for 'supernatural creatures.' That's something I say a lot in my line of work, and I'd rather not repeat the same seven syllables every twelve goddamn seconds."

Both Parkers flinched at her curse, something Steele found most agreeable.

"As I was saying," Steele continued, "there aren't a lot of creeps that could pull something like this. If you're looking at a congregation of organisms, 'specially of the more unpleasant sort, it's very likely there's a demon behind it. Factor in what it said, however, and it's a dead certainty."

"Said?" Emily said, "it spoke to you?" The question was directed at her husband.

"Oh. Yes. Well no. Not to me precisely. To her - to Ms Steele that is. It was rather..."

"Pissed the fuck off?" Steele offered.

"...incensed, at the time." Parker finished. All the swearing wasn't helping his disposition.

"Look, I ain't gonna sugar coat this," said Steele, who couldn't give a damn about Parker's disposition, "This is a pretty damn serious situation you're in. That thing we saw? It was just a symptom of the larger problem. Your church has been Cursed, capital 'C,' which is just a clever way of saying a demon has claimed it for its own."

"I-is there anything you can do?" said Parker.

"Wouldn't have much of a business if I couldn't," said Steele, fishing through her backpack and pulling out a slightly rumpled stack of papers and setting it on the coffee table.

"A standard contract. Well, as standard as you can get is this bass-ackwards profession. I've already filled it out to reflect the consulting fee we discussed by email as well as my hourly. All you have to do is sign, and I'll be officially in your service til the job's done."

"Discussed? When exactly did we discus any of this?" she said, looking at Parker again with eyes that demanded a answer. "Tom?"

"Honey," said Parker in a hushed voice, "who else is going to help us?"

"I'm sure we'll think of something. Something a little less risky," said Emily.

"Darling I know it's a bit of a stretch but - " said Parker.

"For a preacher's wife, you don't seem to have much faith," quipped Steele.

"Tom," said Emily, "can I have a word with you? In private."

Parker shot a quick, embarrassed glance in Steele's direction before helping Emily awkwardly to her feet, and the two of them headed to the kitchen to deliberate. Steele couldn't exactly hear what they were saying, but she did hear the words "charlatan," "trust" and "chintz" thrown around quite a bit, though she realized that in all likelihood the last one was actually a distortion of the word "chance;" and

after a few minutes that felt like hours, Steele gave up on waiting and instead waltzed over to the kitchen and stuck her head in the door.

"You know I usually don't like doing this," she said, causing the Parkers to quickly cut off their conversation mid-thought, "but given the... unique nature of your situation, I'd be willing to make you a deal."

"What sort of deal?" said Emily, stepping forward slightly as she did so. Whatever words had been exchanged, it was clear that Emily now spoke for the both of them.

"Call it a 'Try Before You Buy' sort of arrangement. You give me access to the

building, let me call in a few experts. I'll start working on getting you your church back, no paperwork required. Then when I'm finished you can decide whether or not I've screwed you over; and when you see that I haven't, you sign and I get paid."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch; that's the deal

There was a moment of tense stillness. Then Steele saw Emily nod slightly, as if to herself.
"Then it's a deal," Emily said.

They shook on it, and that was that.