The Wall - Part Three

When I woke up, the first thing I did was go to my office and I ran my hands over the wall. I didn’t know what I was looking for, maybe some kind of special gimmick that would pop a hand out of the wall, thinking that maybe the prior people who lived here had some sort of warped idea for practical jokes—or something.

Then, after finding nothing, I looked around the room for perhaps some sort of projection viewer, again—nothing.

First it was the noises and now a—a hand appearing mysteriously and honestly, that did freak me out, that and the one word—Come.

I couldn’t tell by how the voice sounded if it was male or female, but I had to ask myself, come where? Why me of all people? This was beginning to sound like something from—wait!

Ride into Darkness, book thee, The Silent Ones. Jazzie had to uncover beastly demons who had managed to come up from Hell and invade people’s bodies, but they did it by walking through walls and would come up to the victim-to-be and utter the words, “Come with me, to paradise.” If the victim took a step forward, they relinquished their soul. Jazzie found them after an exhaustive search through other-worldly mishaps and put an end to them when she shot them with a paralyzing spray of blessed water. Those who didn’t disintegrate, fled away in fear and never returned.

Was this one of those demons? Did what I write—could it actually be true? Nah, couldn’t be, but it’s the only answer I have, for now. Oh, Jazzie, if only you were real and could be here, I’m sure you could figure this out.

______________________________________

After breakfast, and a good thirty minutes mowing my lawn, I made a few calls; one to my parents, who are happily retired and spending the summer in Barbados. I then called a good friend of mine in Augusta and we swapped spit on a few jokes and stuff.

The doorbell rang, and when I opened it, a UPS driver stood there holding a large white envelope. Looking at who sent this, I quickly signed for it and went to my office, opened it and read the new contract from my publisher. First, they were ecstatic I was writing a new book, and how much so? Along with the contract was an advance check for $150,000.

Looking everything over carefully (even after all the years gone by, I’m still careful), I was satisfied with the terms, signed it and would return it first thing in the morning. For now though, I had other papers to look through as far as my bills were concerned. I wondered if money were never invented, would we be so eager today to simply barter away for our needs?

_______________________________________

Night came as it always did. Outside the blackness was obvious, so much so, not a single star or the moon could be seen.

For me, it was a perfect setting for what I was about to write. Jazzie had just cornered Maleke’, one of the strong-arms of his boss, King Dumango’ne, once ruler of the western hemisphere of Hell. Since he was banished by the Lord of Darkness once it was learned he was planning a coup; Dumango’ne took it upon himself to do what the Lord of Darkness had always proposed but never did, and that was take control of every living being’s soul and transform them to be part of his Legion. He would then run amuck in Hell and dethrone the Lord of Darkness and finally reign as one true supreme entity.

Jazzie had Maleke’ strapped tightly to a metal chair and started asking questions and when he refused, she would fire small pellets of sacred water to parts of his lower body that would cause Maleke’ to cry out in pain.

“We can make this simple, or we can keep this up all night, Maleke’. Doesn’t matter to me, but I keep shooting you, eventually both your legs will be gone, and you won’t be of use to your boss any longer.”

“You—get—get, nothing from—”

Jazzie fired another pellet. Another agonizing scream.

“All … right! Stop! Ask your questions but know this; you will pay for what you have done to me. King Dumango’ne will see to it.”

“Works for me. I can’t wait to meet him. We’ll dance a dance and then I’ll blow him back to hell. Now, tell me, where can I find him?”

Come.

My fingers were about to type out the answer when I heard that word. My head turned in the direction it came from but as before, no one was there, not even that mysterious hand.

Come. Take my—

And then a hand slid from the wall again, like last time, palm up. This time, three words. Did this person (thing) want me to grab the hand extended? No way was I going to do that. Then the hand retracted and the movement along the wall intensified, and the thud-thud-thud from before became a larger, banging force, as if who or whatever it was, was trying to break through the wall. The voice, garbled, sounded like a warped scratched record being played backward. It made my skin raise goosebumps in the hundreds over my flesh.

What if it did break through the wall? What would, or could I do to defend myself. I have no idea what I’m up against. Honestly, I was scared as hell, and yet, curious as hell. And if it was, is, some kind of demon, what could I do to protect myself? I don’t have blessed water as I’m not Catholic and I know damned good and well, the Pepsi I was drinking wouldn’t do anything if I hurled it at this, this—thing.

“Mom, your son is in deep shit.”

The banging became louder, more forceful. It sounded like two fists and feet were wailing away at the wall. I even thought I caught another sound but not one of anger but as if something on the other side was crying. This was really getting to be a mess and complicated beyond anything I could write.

Then my grandfather clock struck eleven times, and on the twelfth time, the pounding stopped.

It wasn’t until then did I realize not one inch on my body was dry. I was soaked in sweat.

Taking some time to calm myself down, I slowly sat in front of my computer to finish the last page for the night. Page two-hundred and one. My thoughts rambled about the number believing by two-seventy this would be finished, but tonight the numbers weren’t as important as what almost happened or what could have happened.

I might have been a step away from death or maybe living an eternity in Hell, for surely, this didn’t ring of a trip to Heaven.