The Clairvoyant

Chapter Three: In Which Mary Gets Severely Ill

    The moment Mary's foot touched the wood floor, she felt ill. Her entire body shook. The power in the house was shaking her and pulling her, tearing her apart.

    "God protect this woman from the evil of this house," Father Thomas brandished his cross at her. It relieved maybe two percent of the sick feeling. But it was enough for her to move forward.

    "Thank you Father. Sheriff, take the bullets out of your gun."

    Sheriff Taylor complied, looking curious at the request.

    "That way you won't shoot us if you get possessed," Mary stated calmly.

    She didn't know what she was looking for in the house, she just knew something here was... in a loose translation, living and brewing evil. She crossed herself and motioned for the two men to  follow behind her.

    The house was decorated with many antique items. Vintage vases, lace curtains and thick green drapes. Statues and paintings. Knick knacks. Little collectables. Each item stood out in her mind. As if they had an aura of evil around then, she could picture a green fog in her mind, drifting within and inside of the objects.

    "Miss Ripley... this house is giving me the creeps. What do you see?"

   Mary didn't answer, till scanning.

   "Miss Ripley, what are you picking up?" Father Thomas asked.

    A moment later she replied. "The entity in this house is not a demon. It is something more. There are layers of evil like there are layers of plaster in the walls. I've never felt anything like it, and I can't tell what it is. It's invisible as a spirit, but has been as troublesome as a ghost, it is more evil than a Jinn or demon... but oddly enough, it feels strong... like an angel perhaps," she said, lost in her own thoughts. "It is an entity of a race all it's own. Either very rare or the only one of it's kind. An anomaly. It is just itself."

    Mary suddenly turned, wide eyed at the Sheriff, who was smiling strangely. "Are you alright, sir?"

    "Quite Mary, thank you."

   Mary. Not Miss Ripley. Mary.

   "Little Miss Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With skeletons and secrets, don't tell me, for I know."

    Father Thomas and Mary both jumped at the sound of a raspy voice. It filled every space in the house, coming from every crack, brushing their ears with its low, throaty cadences.

    "Father Tom, something's wrong, stop lying to Miss Mary. Guilty secrets must be shared, or you shall not be holy."

    "Your first rhyme was better," Mary interrupted with a smirk on her face. She adjusted her glasses, still smirking as a sudden coldness descended upon the house.

   Father Thomas and Sheriff Taylor stared at her in shock. Where had this boldness come from? It seemed quite odd, coming from someone like Mary.

    When Mary didn't get a reply, she decided to provoke this... entity. She wanted to know whether it prefered parlor tricks or real damage. Not to mention discovering the limits of this entity's temper would also prove to be useful.

   "What, cat got your tongue? Was this all for show?" She still did not get a reply. Time to pull out the big guns. In her best baby-voice she said, "Do you need me to hold your hand so you can cross to Heaven?"

     A laugh that sounded like static tickles her ear, and she felt the cold breath of evil on her neck. She could see only she was meant to hear it.

    "Don't provoke me."

     Books flew from shelves, one catching Sheriff Taylor in the gut and another breaking a window.  The vases and statues on tables trembled, causing their charges to fall and shatter on the floor.

    Father Thomas began to screech loud blessings and prayers, and Mary felt immense pain tearing through her. She was feeling what the entity was feeling, and she couldn't take it.

    She screamed in pain, doubling over, her vision painted red. What the hell was this, Amityville? She was stronger than this, she had learned to block it out. Straining as Sheriff Taylor tried to drag her out and Father Thomas retreating with them, continued his blessings. Her nose started bleeding with the effort. But slowly she blocked the thing out.

    She never noticed Sheriff Taylor leave her side. She slumped against the doorway as the Priest closed the door, focusing on not letting in the entity, as the house abruptly stopped throwing a fit. She wanted to cause it pain now.

    She practically tore the cross from Father Thomas's neck and pressing it into the wood spoke her threat loud and clear. "I can help you if you'll help me. If not, I swear we'll exorcise you to Hell."

    The cross left a burning imprint in the wood.

   "No one is ever going to believe this, Miss Ripley," said Thomas.

   Mary turned around, paling yet again. "Or that." She pointed.

   Father Thomas followed her shaking finger to a sight that was nearly scarier than what they just saw.

    Sheriff Taylor was smiling crookedly at them, with a dull expression in his eyes, and a gun in his hand. Said gun was pointed at them.

   Father Thomas shoved Mary down just as the gun went off. The bullet left a hole in the front door where he had been standing.

    Sheriff Taylor turned livid. "And that, Miss Mary is my threat." But his smile came back as he inspected the gun.

    Father Thomas was still shielding Mary, lying on top of her on the ground, but she thought that was a bit stupid. If their were two more bullets in the gun, he'd just get shot and then she would.

   But the sheriff surprised them again. He turned the gun towards himself, smile widening.

   "He's possessed," Mary got the words out a second before Sheriff Taylor shot himself in the chest.

   Blood, thick and red stained his tan clothes. Even in his last dying moments, he was not himself. In a way, he had died or forfeited his soul when this... demonic presence took him. Mary wasn't sure how to feel about this.

    But her vision told her what to do next.

    "Father, we need to go. Now."

  

   A/N

   So first off, just want to dedicate this to @Socasm.