Stay Dead

By Bob Liddil

"I'm back," said the demon.

"You're dead." Odem said flatly, letting out a long sigh that emerged from between his crusted lips and expanded into a cloud as it touched the frigid night air. He shifted his body slightly and reached for the brown paper bag as it was being passed.

"I killed you myself," he said softly. "I sunk a stake into that festering black hole you call a heart and watched you die."

The bag made a soft rustling noise as he rolled back the paper to better get at the bottle inside. He took a long, deep draught, savored the taste of the liquid in his mouth and then swallowed and convulsed slightly, as it burned it's way down into his empty stomach.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," the demon taunted softly, its voice projecting the beginning of a venomous edge. "I won't leave until you do what I've ordered."

"You're not even real." Odem shot back. "You're just a voice in my head. What you want me to do is evil - you're evil. And I won't do it."

Ten feet away from where Odem sat leaning up against an old car, a fifty gallon oil drum shot sparks up into the night on a rising current of hot air from the fire within it. The light from the flames made shadows of those huddled around it for warmth. Every so often it popped loudly, causing one or
another of them to step back in surprise. Even at this distance the fire cut through some of the chill of the night.

"Tonight's the night," urged the demon. "Tonight you must kill a priest. Tonight, you have to make one of them pay for the sins of them all."

"I will kill you instead." Odem passed the bottle back in the direction from which it had come, reached into his jacket pocked with a gnarled, half frozen hand and drew forth a long handled knife. He pressed a hidden button. Instantly a wicked sleek blade emerged, faster than the eye could have followed had anyone been watching.

"Show yourself, you bastard." Odem demanded. He drew himself up from the place he had been sitting and faced toward the fire in the oil drum. "Show yourself and I will kill you."

Rising at the speed of smoke above a hot fire, the demon began to form above the oil drum. Fire burned at the edges of its outline. It grew in substance and form. Those standing nearby froze in time and space. Only Odem had the power of movement.

"Tonight, you will kill a priest." Repeated the demon as it swirled above him. "See who I am and know that I will consume you if you do not do as I say."

Odem marveled at the scope of the demon, the clarity of the details of its monstrous body, the way the flames seemed to defy law by burning downward. Then he flipped the knife in his hand so that he held the blade loosely. Reaching into another pocket, he brought forth a small orange pill bottle and
held it up to the demon.

"See this?" He declared. He shook the bottle and the pills rattled against the plastic from the inside. Then he flung the knife, with all his strength, straight into the demon's heart.

"Now die!" Odem hissed. "Die."

He popped the top off the bottle and shook two capsules into his hand, then popped then into his mouth and swallowed. As quickly as the bottle had appeared and been uncapped, so did it disappear. All the time, he never let his eyes leave the demon, who now screamed in pain, writhed in agony, clutching its chest and spitting fire into the sky, cursing in an ever higher pitched voice until it vanished into a sudden shower of sparks that raced heavenward like angry fireflies.

Odem collapsed where he stood, leaning back against the old car. Someone picked up the knife from where it had fallen as the demon departed and returned to him. A calm washed over him. Sleep began to overtake him.

"Can't mix pills and booze, brother." A voice spoke from somewhere off in the rising fog, but Odem did not see who it belonged to. A small smile spread across his unshaven face as his eyes traced the path into the heavens where the demon had gone.

"Stay dead." Odem whispered, his eyes closing at last. "Stay dead."