Somebody Got a Hold on Me

“Y'all going to eat that?" Uncle Clink asked, rubbing his barrel chest and beer belly.

He stood 5'9" and wore a red T-shirt and blue overalls. His round, bald head shined, and his beard was now white and long like an Amish man's.

“Uh-uh,” said the nieces and nephews, shaking their heads.

“Why not?” Uncle Clink asked. “What's wrong with it?”

“It ain't dead,” said June—the eldest, long and thickly built, with cornrow braids.

“I only eat store-bought meat.” said Albert, who was light-skinned, portly, and sported an Afro in need of a haircut.

“Me too,” said the rest of the children.

Uncle Clink laughed. He knew what the children meant, and he felt the same when he witnessed his father taking a baseball bat to the skull of a Boa Hog. “This is the best meat- fresh from the farm.”

“Still ain't eating it,” They all shouted in unison.

“Y'all don't know what y'all missing,” said Uncle clink. “Again what's wrong with it?”

He knew what frightened the children, but wanted to hear them say it. He'd watched his father chop off the head of hens and roosters and, like the children, even he was astounded. The rooster's body he'd beheaded was still standing with nowhere to go. The head on the ground possessed blinking eyes. He didn't want to admit it, but his stomach turned too.

Then it opened its beak.

“MERCURY!”

Mercury woke up drenched in sweat. He exhaled trying to figure out why he had dreamed about that day. Nobody ate the rooster, including Uncle Clink, because he was as freaked out as they were, though he didn't admit it. His mother had told him unauthorized dreams had a story to tell. He rubbed his eyes, thinking, What? What would a beheaded rooster have to say to him?

He had decided to test drive his new office for meeting potential clients and keeping nosy neighbors like Mrs. Crabtree at bay. He found a nice place not far from his home in the old Queen Park theater. The owner was looking for a resident, and because the majority of the building was a theater, it meant he and the cinema would be neighbors. Plus he got to see free second-run movies and all the popcorn he could eat. Yeah, he thought, this berth is perfect for me.

His view could be seen through a mid-size window and a glass door. The place had enough room for a desk and printer, and there was a cut out for a small kitchen and a couch on the rear wall where he had dozed off before his dream woke him. The couch was also a sofa bed, but he didn't plan on spending the night.

“MERCURY!"

He heard his name again, coming from outside this time, and there was banging on his door. Mercury rushed to open it, fearing the banging would break the glass. He recognized the voice and opened the door, dragging the man inside by the arm like a child.

“Henry? What's wrong?”Mercury asked.

“Thelma,” said Henry, breathing like a hound dog in heat.

Henry Digs. Mercury had known the Digs family for five years. Henry was average height, with noodle legs and a beer gut. He wore a green polyester jacket, baggy blue jeans, and brown work boots, as he worked for the city. He was the father of two boys and one girl.

“What—she finally up and left you?” Mercury questioned.

Henry and Thelma argued like most couples. She would threaten to leave, and he would encouraged her to do so, but she never did because she didn't want to go, and he didn't want her to. Mercury knew something was wrong when Henry didn't laugh. He is eyes were bloodshot and his face wore a veil of fright.

Mercury frowned. "Don't tell me she's dead?"

Henry swallowed hard. “You got to come and see for yourself.”

He led the way outside the door.

“Wait!” Mercury shouted. “How did you find me?”

“Bella.”

Thelma had an account at Bella's store. She gave Thelma discounts and not for charity; Bella told Mercury she knew a good soul when she saw one. They climbed inside Henry's blue Ford Ranger and raced to Henry's house. No sign of the MPD to pull them over.

Henry drove like a bat out of hell.

“You ever been a wheel man?” Mercury questioned.

“Now Mercury, this ain't no time for jokes,” said Henry.

Mercury held onto the plastic hook above his head. "Why you driving like this is a getaway car?”

“It's a matter of life and death.”

Mercury exhaled. “Let's stick with living, okay?”

Mercury breathed a sigh of relief when they reached Henry's house. Enough drag racing. He looked over at Henry, staring back moon-eyed.

“You ready?” Henry asked.

Mercury studied Henry. He didn't know what to think while trying to figure out the expression of horror etched on his face. What had a hold on Thelma couldn't be a ghost or evil spirit—if there was a difference. Mercury feared that it might be beyond his help, though; he didn't deal with anything supernatural. He knew the Digs to be good people, and he'd see if he could do anything to help.

“Show me what's going on,” said Mercury.

Henry walked toward his house like he was part of a Scooby-Doo cartoon. Mercury caught himself doing the same. Henry almost put his foot on the bottom step them decided to head to the back of the house.

Mercury shook his head and followed.

“Where are you going?” asked Mercury.

“I ain't going inside,” Henry huffed.

Mercury frowned. “It's your house.”

Henry got moon-eyed again. “Not tonight.”

“And Thelma?” Mercury questioned.

“God forgive me, but she ain't my wife... not tonight.”

Mercury inhaled. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“Follow me, and you'll see,”

Mercury exhaled, shaking his head. They got around back and stood next to a dead, leafless oak tree ten yards from the house.

“There.” Henry pointed. “Look through that window, and you'll see.”

Might as well get this over with, thought Mercury, throwing up his hands. He marched to the window, placing his face against the pane. Mercury flew backwards to where Henry stood, almost landing on his foot.

Henry swallowed hard. “See... I told you.”

“What the hell?” Mercury gasped with his hand over his heart. He had seen things hard to explain while serving his country, but nothing like this.” Is that for real?”

Henry nodded. “Told you you hand to see it for yourself.”

Again, Mercury had seen a lot of things he still couldn't explain while serving with the Combine, an elite force of trained killers. But the Combine wouldn't be able to explain what he just saw.

“Too early for Halloween—damn!”

“How you going to help us?” Henry asked. “And that's my wife you talking about."

Mercury gave him a look. “What on God's green earth made you think I could handle something like that?”

Henry shrugged. “You were in the military, and you do some detective work now.”

Mercury nodded. “Yeah... I was trained to handle any situation that required me to use a gun and knife, but that thing—bullets and a blade would only tickle it.”

“We got to do something. That's my wife in there.”

Mercury frowned.

“Okay, used to be, but we got to do something,” said Henry.

“How long she been that way?”Mercury asked.

“What time is it now?”

Mercury took out his cell. "A little after one.”

Henry shrugged. “I woke up because I felt something clawing my back.”

Mercury gave a wide-eyed look. “That milk-white, pink-eyed, ten-foot-long, spider-looking thing with black stringy hair?”

Henry swallowed hard. “Turned over, and that's what I saw. Had enough instinct to haul ass out of bed. You would've thought I was having a nightmare, but something told me this shit is real.”

Mercury nodded. “Preaching to the choir, brother.”

“Can't believe this is happening.”

Mercury gave a dubious look. “Where are the kids? It didn't eat them, did it?”

“That ain't funny, and no. As soon as I got up, I took them over to my cousin's house.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Me and their mama had to be alone to take care of some serious business. So can you help us or no?”

Mercury snapped his finger. “The Internet.”

“What the hell is that going to do?”

“You own a PC, Henry?”

“Damn, Mercury, this ain't the time..."

Mercury got to his feet. “It's a serious question, and watch how you talk to me since I ain't charging your ass.” He punched the Google logo on his phone.

Henry shook his head. “Still don't know how the Internet going to help.” He spread out his arms as if he was a crucifix.”I came to you for help and you surfing the Internet.”

“I could shoot it.”Mercury replied.

Henry cleared his throat. “Now hold on. That was—or still is—my wife.”

Inside Mercury's head danced a a joke, but he knew Thelma's situation was above amber alert. “Glad I'm single,” Mercury remarked before Henry could retaliate. "Got it.”

“What?”

Mercury observed his phone. “Since the unworldly done took over Thelma's body, we need someone who specializes in these types of things.”

“And you've found him.”

“Let's go,” said Mercury. "I'll call him while we head over to his place.”

“What's the name of this place?” Henry asked.

“Hel's Haven, and that's Hel with one L in case you wondering.”

Henry shook his head. “Still,” He said staring at the long, dark serpent of highway ahead of them. “You ain't scared, are you?”

Mercury knew this was real, since he was wide awake, and experiencing a true nightmare, and talking to Henry. He had read and heard about people getting a taste of things you read about in books and see on TV in the category of a nightmare, and now he was living proof that nightmares are real because he was living one.

“Of meeting this Crabbe guy, or that thing turning Thelma into a monster?” Mercury questioned.

Henry swallowed hard. "Just plain and simple scared?”

Mercury exhaled. “I'm human, Henry.” He didn't want to show Henry he had his doubts.

He didn't believe in voodoo or witchcraft, if there's a difference between the two, but the monster—or Thelma—was too real to think otherwise, and her being in the shape of a monster gave them no choice but to hope this man could save her.

Henry snorted. “You thought I was lying. Didn't you?”

“No.” Mercury swallowed hard. “If I knew what she looked like before I saw her then, yeah. Seeing is believing. A milk-white, pink-eye, eight-legged monster.”

'That's my wife.” said Henry.

Mercury glanced at Henry.”I'll let you work that out.”

“I'm glad I came to you for help. I knew you'd figure out what to do.”

“Don't thank me yet.”

“Still though... glad I came to you. How much further?” Henry asked.

Mercury inhaled. “Anytime now. Siri will let us know.”

“About a mile on your right,” said Siri.

Henry flinched.

“Easy,” said Mercury. “Won't be long.”

“Can you blame me? Henry replied.

A mile ahead stood the big Carvana dealership, looking like a display of Match-box and Hot wheel toy cars. On the right, like Siri said, Hel's Haven, which shared the block with a tattoo parlor named Banging Tattoos. The parlor was side-by-side with a red brick hole-in-the-wall burger joint with a marquee that read BURGERS, BREW, & PIZZA TOO, and like all burger-under-the-radar eateries, they claimed to have the world's greatest burger. Mercury heard of the establishment by word of mouth; the food was good and he planned to one day find out for himself.

A black and gray half brick building with a sign on the roof, HEL'S HAVEN, gave clues to Mercury they arrived at their destination. The back of building, gray wood, gave a homey look while the front was all business. A bi-level building as unique as its name. They parked in front of the building and got out. Both men stood in front of the door.

Mercury studied the Gothic themed dwelling. On the door there was a mid-size silver metal pentagram with pointed arrow heads on each end and, in the middle, a closed eye that opened when he rang the bell. The red-iris black-slit serpent eye gave Mercury and Henry the heebie-jeebies. Henry glanced at the restaurant.

“I could use a drink,” he said.

Mercury stared at the serpent eye. "They're closed.”

“Seeing that beer sign making my mouth water.” said Henry.

“Celebrate after we save Thelma.” Mercury started to knock when the door opened.

He thought he'd stepped into a 1970s blaxploitation movie. The red, loose-fitting pullover shirt and Old Navy relaxed fit blue jeans looked modern, but the Afro and sideburns touching the corners of his mouth rivaled Sly Stone. The man looked young, and stood at least six-one in black high-top converse sneakers Mercury was sure had the name Chuck Taylor written on them. Thank God he wasn't wearing a puff sleeve shirt, bell bottoms, and platform shoes.

He flashed pearly whites. "Gentlemen, please come in.” He stepped aside. “Crabbe H. Appleton at your service.”

“I'm Mercury Slim and this is Henry Digs.”

Henry frowned. “What does the H Stand for?”

“Hel with one L,” said Crabbe, with thunder in his voice.

“Crabbe with one B and not the Y or IE?” Mercury questioned.

Crabbe frowned and laughed. "The ladies sometimes pronounce it using the Y or I E.”

“Crabbe it is with the one B sound," said Mercury.

“Awkward introduction,” said Crabbe. “Gentlemen... follow me.”

Mercury and Henry tailed the man from the 1970s and observed the confines of his store: Shelves of herbs labeled in glass jars and plastic bags, incense fragrances in shapes of sticks and cones, to solid and hollow for back flow; burners, rainbow colors of candles, holders, jars of colorful liquids, and powders as well as books new and old; pendants, Wicca supplies, wands, Chalices, Athames, knives, jewelry, oils, calendars, crystals, gemstones, and robes.

Henry's mouth hung open looking amazed at all the items on display. A cloak was hanging in the corner, and there was a glass counter with a cash register and credit card machine sitting on top. The floor shined varnished parquet, and the room smell of incense. Down the hallway through a red, blue, yellow, green, orange beaded curtain leading to a brown smooth Mahogany room with a winding stairwell, shiny parquet floor, an open space that look like a portal, a fern and Aloe plant near the stairs.

The far corner of the room contained a life-size fortune telling machine with a six-foot manikin figure wearing a turban and a colorful hollow cone dome sculpture with crystals. There was a crystalline wall guarded by a two headed purple gold dragon wrapped around it. The journey ended with Crabbe leading them to a mid-sized thick mahogany round table and three solid wooden chairs the same color.

They sat down at the table.

“You an herbalist?” Mercury asked.

“Anything dealing with the occult,” said Crabbe

Crabbe noticed Henry's eyes staring.

“You okay, Mister Digs?” Crabbe asked.

“That's a big ass cat,” said Henry.

The swarthy feline raised its head, observing the strangers with his jade eyes.

Mercury raised an eyebrow. "Looks like he sizing us up?”

“Protective.” said Crabbe. "Mister Kit, give us some privacy.”

The forbidding cat headed up the round mahogany stairs. Crabbe leaned back observing the two men.

“Okay,” Crabbe looked at Mercury.”You said you had a problem you believe I could help you with?”

Mercury elbow Henry. "Talk to the man.”

Henry swallowed hard. “My wife ain't with me no more,” said Henry.

Crabbe shrugged. “Sorry, but I'm not a marriage counselor.”

“She's a monster.” Mercury blurted.

“Mercury!” Henry replied.

Crabbe gave a stern look.”What kind?”

Henry looked as though he expected a different response.

Mercury nodded to Henry. "Talk to the man.”

“A pink-eye, eight-legged, spider-looking thing sleeping where my wife use to sleep,” said Henry.

Crabbe rubbed his chin. "An arachnid demon.”

Henry's eyes glistened. “You believe me?”

“If you told me she was a one-eyed, one-horned flying purple people eater,” Crabbe remarked.

“Well I want my wife back,” said Henry.

Crabbe frowned. "You know anyone who wants to harm your family?”

Henry shrugged. “This is all new to me. I mean..." He swallowed hard. “I heard my parents talk about root-workers, but they were superstitious people.”

“And you?” Crabbe inquired.

Henry shook his head. “Not like them, but after tonight...” He inhaled. “My mama told my daddy somebody sent a hag to disturb her sleep. I shook it off as a boogie man tale.”

Crabbe got moon-eye and puffy cheeks. He inflated his face, blowing toward the ceiling.

“Since you've seen what happened to your wife, hags and boogie men are real.”

Mercury snapped his finger. "I knew that was coming.”

Crabbe snickered. “Good news: Parents mention Mister Boogie to force their children to go to sleep, and hags are sent to disturb your sleep; nothing more.”

Henry bit his lower lip.”How do you know when a hag disturbs your sleep?'

“You're pinned down, unable to move, and you hear a buzzing sound,” said Crabbe.

“Sound like my mother's mother,” said Mercury.

“You'd be wise to listen to her voice.” Crabbe replied.

Mercury gave a look.

“You believe?” Crabbe asked.

“Mind over medicine,” said Mercury.

Crabbe raised an eyebrow. "Consumption, but why are you here?”

Henry slapped the table.”My wife! Don't mean to be rude and all but guys—my Thelma's been possessed.”

“And times a-wasting. Your wife's humanity is being taken as we speak.”

Henry threw up his hands. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Mercury rose from the table. “We better get moving. Do we need anything?”

“Follow me,” said Crabbe. “Everything's out front.”

Crabbe's hands grabbed for incense and jugs of water. The men piled in the Ford Ranger with Mercury in the driver's seat. He wanted a calmer drive than what got them to Hel's Haven. As soon as they arrived at the Digs home, Henry opened the door, and all three men stood in the living room.

“I need three tall drinking glasses,” Crabbe ordered.

Henry rushed to the kitchen, coming back with what Crabbe asked for.

Crabbe pointed. “Put them on that table near the window.”

Henry did, and Crabbe arranged them in the shape of a triangle, touching each other. He took the jug of holy water and filled the glasses to the rim.

Mercury frowned. "What's that for?”

“A trap for negative entities,” answered Crabbe.

They heard a disturbance in the bedroom down the hall.

“What's going on?” Henry asked.

Crabbe nodded toward the triangle trap. “It's doing its job.”

Henry exhaled. “I sure hope so.”

Crabbe patted him on his shoulder. “Believe, Henry. Believe.” He looked down the hallway. "I assume you looked the door?”

“Yes sir,” Henry replied.

“Give me the key,” said Crabbe.

Henry handed Crabbe the key. ”I'm coming with you.”

“No.” said Crabbe. “I work alone. If you want to help...” He looked around the house. “Do you have bottle caps?"

“I recycle.” said Henry.

“Good man,” said Crabbe looking at Mercury. "I need you two working together. And then afterward, leave the house.”

“Say what?” Henry questioned.

“Get four bottle caps and fill them with ammonia, placing them in the four corners of the house. Then exit the premises after lighting the incense.”

Mercury nodded then looked at Henry. “Let's do what the man says.”

Crabbe headed down the hall to the bedroom while Mercury and Henry did what they were told. He slid the key inside the lock, lining up the tumblers; and, with a twist of the knob, opened the door.

The pink-eye, milk-white arachnid demon lept to the ceiling, landing upside-down and giving Crabbe a look of recognition.

“Nooooo,” said the demon in her airy voice. “You've set a trap for me.”

Crabbe gave a ghoulish grin, closing the door and looking upward at the demon. “Too late, since you've already infiltrated the house, possessing this woman.”

“Thelma.” said the demon.

Crabbe nodded. “Smart. You know your victim's name. Makes me believe you're sincere.” Crabbe knew the person who sent the demon knew Thelma, and to conjure such a creature the person had help from the devil himself. Crabbe looked around; nothing antique about the furniture, and the neighborhood humble, equaling a middle-class life. So what fool would sell their soul to the devil for a person living an ordinary life?

“I swear,” The demon gasped. “On my mother's grave.”

“Lie!” Crabbe remarked. “You murdered your mother with the help of your siblings the day you were born,” Spiders, demonic or not, feasted on their mother when born, and Crabbe believed the same for the supernatural.

“But..."

“It's okay. Natural or supernatural... it's your way.”

“The same for me when I give birth,” said the demon.

“You should be so lucky,” said Crabbe.

“I was forced upon this woman. I swear to you I did... “

Crabbe held up his hand. “Give me names.”

She gasped. “I was compelled not to do that.”

Crabbe laughed. He figured the person----or people---who did this to Thelma would compel the demon to secrecy. “I understand your code will not force you to break it, but you know you can't stay inside the woman's body much longer without killing her. And if that happens...”

“No, please,” The demon gasped. “if you can make it painless... I was forced into this, I'd be in your debt.”

Crabbe smiled. “I'll do better than that, I can make your exit from her body painless and allow you to get revenge on your conjurers.”

“Excellent. Excellent.” said the airy voiced demon, getting moon-eye.

“Kill the headlights and put it in neutral.” Crabbe commanded. “You will not kill them.”

The demon's eyes grew wider.”Then how will I get my revenge?”

Crabbe shook his head. Why do humans and monsters think killing is the best way to get revenge? “You will possess the person who called upon you. Stay inside their body for three days and make them sinfully sick, vomiting and extreme diarrhea.”

The demon nodded, flashing jagged teeth of glee. "Yes, yes, I can do that.”

Crabbe held up a finger. “And if that person had help, then they too will suffer—by being trapped in the same room with the windows closed, door locked."

The pink eyes got wider, looking as if they were about to explode. “Yes, yes, so deserving.”

“It will be house arrest for the both of them. Were children involved?'

“No, no. Just her—” The demon gasped.

Crabbe nodded. “So it was a woman who did this.”

“Please..."

Crabbe waved for the demon to come down off the ceiling. “It's okay. You didn't reveal her name, but you narrowed the field. I need to touch your head to know who she is.” He saw hesitation in the pink eyes. "You want your revenge?”

The demon trembled. "I'm afraid of you.”

Crabbe exhaled. “You have rag doll stringy hair covering your face, bulging pink-eyes, jagged teeth, a mouth the size of a toilet, and eight-legs,” he snorted. “And you're afraid of me? If I didn't possess the power I have, I'd be hauling ass. Now cut the crap and get down here.”

The demon landed face to face with Crabbe. I hate spiders and snakes of any kind, he thought. The pink eyes got watery.

Crabbe frowned. “Are you about to cry?”

“You hurt my feelings.” She said.

What the hell kind of demon was this? It can't take harsh words? He shook his head realizing she was a woman, and women... whether human or monster... are all sensitive. He placed his hand on her head, closed his eyes, and went on a journey, tracing both women back far enough to see why this woman became Thelma's enemy. Crabbe saw two families; the first family got blood and tears, and family two got all the love and attention that family one should have gotten. Thelma and her enemy shared the same dad.

In Thelma's defense, she didn't know she had a half sister who grew up blaming her and her mother for the pain and suffering they got because their father loved his second family more than his first. Crabbe saw the straw that broke the camel's back. Senior Prom, their father worked a humbling job what money he save he bought a dress for Thelma. The day after seeing her in that dress, he drowned.

He left one daughter with a loving high school memory and the other with enough hate for him she carried to pass on to her sister. Enough hate to make a deal and dabble in the black arts, conjuring a demon. Crabbe didn't try to figure out who or how because he got what he wanted to why what was happening now happened.

Crabbe exhaled. "Okay, ready?”

The demon nodded.

Crabbe closed his eyes and raised his head, making a fist with both hands.

The room got darker, the wind howled outside the house, and thunder sounded and lightening flashed.

Crabbe spoke in a strong voice.

“The wicked Demon, the Demon of the Desert, the Demon of the Mountain, the Demon of the Sea, the Demon of the Marsh, the wicked Genius, the Enormous Larvae, the wicked winds, the Demon that seizeth the body, the Demon that rendeth the body, Spirit of the Sky, remember! Spirit of Earth, remember! The Demon that seizeth man, the Gigim who worketh Evil, the Spawn of the wicked Demon, Spirit of the Sky, remember! Spirit of the Earth, remember! He who forges images, he who casts spells, the Evil Eye the Evil Tongue, Spirit of the Sky, remember! Spirit of the Earth, remember! May the wicked Demon depart! May she seize another! Spirit of the Sky, remember! Spirit of the Earth, remember!"

The dark sky, flash of lightening, and clap of thunder made Henry hold onto Mercury. In the blink of an eye, everything returned. Mercury looked at Henry.

“You can let go now.” said Mercury.

Henry straightened, looking around the neighborhood and seeing no lights turn on. "Think anybody noticed?” The surrounding houses were still dark despite the excitement.

Mercury snorted. "This only happened around and over you house... nah.”

Inside the house, eight legs retracted, a shape of a human face, pecan brown, eyes, full lips and hair neck length belonging to an average height woman in her late 30s in her birthday suit, regurgitated an eight-legged, rectangle shape, pink-eyed, stringy ink black threads of hair, and milk-white bodied demon. It climbed out of her mouth. Thelma attempted to scream, but fainted when Crabbe snapped his finger. He caught her in his arms, carrying the traumatized woman to bed and, where he covered her naked body.

Crabbe glared at the demon.”Don't like the way you came out of her.” He looked at the pointy legs.

The demon shook its head. “Like she was never possessed.”

Crabbe inhaled. "She should've crapped you out, but it's over and done with. Which way did you enter the house?”

The demon frowned. “Why do you ask?”

“I'm sending you from whence you came.”

The demon nodded to the far wall. Crabbe took a piece of white chalk and drew a small circle and a triangle shape star inside it— a pentagram. The demon got moon-eyed looking at the small circle. “It's so tiny.”

Crabbe snorted. “Thelma felt agony ridding you from her body. Whether you meant it or not I feel you deserve discomfort as well . Unless..."

“No, I just want to get back where I came from,” said the airy-speaking demon.

Crabbe nodded. “Remember: Nobody dies, and I will be monitoring you at all times.”

“Whatever you command, magician, I will obey.”

Crabbe closed his eyes without the theatrics. He recited the banishment spell.

“As a river carries foam! The man or the woman has performed the sorcery, that person shall here proclaim him or herself! The vaunting hither and receive with alacrity! Put him in subjection and pierce him through! Slay the offspring and drop out the father and the nearer eye of the braggart! Wherever, thou perceive the broad of these hidden devourers, do thou mightily strengthened by our own, slay them: Slay their brood, piercing them a hundredfold!"

The circle glowed and, acting like a vacuum, sucked the demon through its hole, like a straw sending it back to where it came from. The demon and circle disappeared, leaving the wall clear and clean as if nothing had happened. Crabbe grabbed his head with both hands, dropping to his knees and grimacing in pain.

“The woman doesn't have any children. So when you say slay the offspring, drop the father, you mean me?” The Voice questioned.

Crabbe inhaled then exhaled. He stood up, smiling. "Anyone who deserves it.”

“How long do you think you can continue to defy me?”

Crabbe shrugged. "Been doing pretty good so far.”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha. You're good, Hex. Bravo.”

Crabbe stroll to the front door opening it then waved for Henry and Mercury to come inside. Henry hugged the warlock.

“Premature,” said Crabbe.

Henry pulled away, looking at Crabbe moon-eye. "Is she okay?”

Crabbe smiled. “Go see for yourself.” He snapped his finger. “Wait,” He said, after Henry made it to inside the bedroom.

Mercury frowned. “What?”

Crabbe shrugged. “I wanted to warn him she's naked under the covers.”

Mercury pursed his lips. "She's his wife.”

“I know... “ Crabbe raised an eyebrow. “She ended up naked after I took the demon out of her body.”

“You saved his wife.” said Mercury.

Crabbe eyed the kitchen.”You think he'd mind if I used his scullery?”

Mercury frowned. “You mean the kitchen?”

Crabbe nodded.

Mercury rubbed his head, wondering why people use colorful words to express themselves. “He's in your debt.”

Crabbe entered the kitchen carrying his bag; he grabbed two glasses and placed them on the counter. He took out a mason jar, filling the glasses halfway with a dark syrupy fluid.

“Make sure they drink this,” said Crabbe.

“What is it?” Mercury asked. He picked up a glass, examining the concoction.

“A wine that will help them both forget this experience so they can live normal lives. Tell Henry on our way out.” said Crabbe.

“You know we rode here in his truck.” Mercury reminded.

Crabbe took out his cell and looked at Mercury. "Uber or Lyft?”

Mercury did what Crabbe instructed, telling Henry that he and Thelma needed to drink the wine for good health. Then he had the Uber driver take them to his new office, where he and Crabbe hopped in his Cougar and Mercury drove the both of them back to Hel's Haven. Crabbe invited Mercury inside for a chat and a drink. Mercury accepted, feeling it was the least he could do for the man who looked like a throw back from the 1970s. They sat at the table in the same room where they discussed Henry's problem.

“Drink up.” said Crabbe, pouring Mercury the same tonic he poured for Henry and Thelma.

Mercury stared at the drink.

“You want to talk?” Crabbe nodded.

Mercury studied the man he'd labeled a throw back to the nineteen-seventies. He seemed to know what you were going to say before you spoke. A mind reader? After what happened tonight, he'd made a believer who would seek more clarification.

“They won't remember tonight?” Mercury questioned.

“If they drink the wine.” said Crabbe. "The elixir will put you back in your world, taking you out of mine.”

Mercury frowned. "You saying..."

“What you saw tonight, I see every day.”

Mercury snorted blinking rapid. “How and why?”

“A curse or gift... either way, you can drink that or join me.” said Crabbe.

Mercury gave a look.

“You have a choice, and I believe you'd adjust.” said Crabbe.

Mercury swallowed hard. “Where are you going with this?”

“Ally,” said Crabbe.

“I don't understand.”

“You have a skill set that would be valuable,” said Crabbe.

Mercury shook his head. "This supernatural... right?”

“The demons and monsters you deal are in legit human form, and I deal with humans too, but..."

“What the hell?”

“Yeah,” Crabbe nodded. “You don't drink that? You will see what I see.”

Mercury eyed the drink.”I'm not as naive as you think.”

“You know, there is life on other planets and..."

Mercury put up his hand as if to say not to challenge his intelligence. "UFOs and what not from books and TV, I know came from the minds of actual experience.” He gave an inquisitive look “Is there a difference between Voodoo and witchcraft?”

Crabbe shrugged.”One's from Africa and Haiti, and the other is Celtic—not the Boston Celtics.”

They both laughed.

“I grew up hearing my family talk about root-workers, root..."

Crabbe nodded. "Origin of Voodoo.”

“You Voodoo or witchcraft?”

“Whatever the situation calls for.” Crabbe replied. “Let me see you palm.”

Mercury hesitated.

“Not a marriage proposal.” Crabbe remarked.

Mercury submitted his hand. "You're full of surprises.”

Crabbe shook his head. “Palmistry,” He traced the lines with his finger.

“Is it bad?” Mercury asked.

“The opposite. Drink up,” Crabbe demanded.

“Sounds like an order?”

“You don't belong in my world.” Crabbe gave Mercury back his hand and slid a business card on the table toward him.

Mercury picked it up. Crabbe's number and email. "What's this for?”

“Your intuition will tell you. Drink up.” said Crabbe.

Mercury picks up the glass studying the elixir. “If I don't?”

Crabbe smirked. “You don't want to know if the woman you love has a tail, furry or scaly, do you?”

Mercury moved the glass to his lips. "Are the Digs going to be okay?”

“We left their home protected.”

Mercury nodded. "What was that all about anyway?”

“Thelma don't know she has a half sister who hates her.”

Mercury frowned. "Why?”

“They shared a father who was an asshole. Showered one family with love and neglected the other.” Crabbe gave a look. "Furry or scaly tail.”

Mercury downed the drink. He rose with Crabbe, shaking his hand. The man who reminded him of the 1970s escorted him to the door. Mercury walked out without looking back hearing door lock behind him.

Mercury got comfortable sitting behind the wheel of his namesake roadster. He reached inside his shirt pocket, taking out a small white rectangle card: CRABBE H. APPLETON, with a number and email. He thought about tossing it, but his intuition told him to keep it.

THE END