Chapter 7

Suzi had never been one for religious dogma. Sure, she held a belief in God and identified as a Christian, but the inside of a church hadn’t seen her as an attendee in years. Aiden was more of an agnostic, or perhaps a Buddhist on his more spiritual days. Their children were raised in a household that encouraged exploration of faith, not adherence to a single doctrine. Suzi’s own exposure to a multitude of religions, a necessity given the diverse funeral rites and rituals she encountered in her profession, only reinforced this approach. Their daughter Maeve had once attempted to choose a religion, but that endeavor had ended in disappointment.

Belief, Suzi mused, was a strange thing. Believing in the existence of God was one thing, but knowing… that was something else entirely. It was akin to believing you could fly, only to wake up one day and find yourself soaring through the air, albeit on a plane of existence that defied perception.

Exiting the funeral home, Suzi slid into her car. It was Sunday morning, the church services were drawing to a close. She decided to seek out Father Gil at St. Matthew’s Church and set off in that direction.

Father David Gil was more than just a priest to Suzi; he was a close friend. Ever since she’d arrived in Chicago, they’d formed a bond, starting from the first funeral he’d officiated that she directed. Yes, he was a man of the cloth, but he was also just a man. He laughed, charmed, and wasn’t above enjoying a beer now and then.

Mass was concluding as she entered the grand cathedral of St. Matthew’s Church. She took a seat in the last pew, waiting as the congregation gradually dispersed. Catching Father Gil’s eye, she smiled and gestured towards his office. Understanding her silent request, they both headed in that direction. His greeting was warm and familiar.

“Sister Suzi. How are you?” he asked.

“Father. I’m not… Um. I thought I was good, but I am having an existential crisis.” She paused, took a deep breath, and faced him fully. “GOD is REAL.”

Her words echoed louder in the hall than she’d intended.

“Yes. He is.” The priest agreed, a smile on his face.

“No, I mean he is really real,” she insisted. She could see the confusion in his eyes.

“What can I help you with, my child?” Despite being roughly the same age as Suzi, Father Gil always addressed her this way.

“I think I need an exorcism.”

His chuckle echoed in the room as they entered his office. He hung his robe and stole on a rack.

“What are you talking about?” He motioned for her to sit across from him at his large desk.

“I have a demon in my head.”

“You are having impure thoughts?”

“Ding! Ding! Yeah, baby!” Annie chimed in.

“No…. well, yes, but no. You don’t understand. I have a demon…” She pointed to her head with both index fingers, bouncing them off her temples with each syllable, for dramatic effect, “….In. My. Head.”

“It speaks to you?”

“YES!” Suzi exclaimed, standing up in her excitement. “Its name is Azailkahbil.”

“That’s not one I am familiar with. Have you been ill recently?”

“No, not really. But I did get out of the hospital a few days ago. I was a witness to a shooting and that was pretty traumatic. It wasn’t until last night that I first saw it.”

Suzi recounted the events of the past week as the priest removed his collar and settled into a more relaxed posture.

“Wow. Damn. Wow.” This was Father Gil’s equivalent to ‘Holy Fucking Shit, Bat-man!’

“Yeah. You’re telling me.”

“Two and a half years away and Aiden is still that deeply in love with you?”

“Seriously? That is what you took from that.” Although irritated, she did press the sensor on her ring to let Aiden know she was thinking about him.

The man laughed. “Look. Suz. I think your mind is just dealing with the trauma. If you really think you are possessed, which I don’t see any signs of, not to mention you are on Holy Ground right now, which would be very uncomfortable for a demon, but if you really think you are, then I can give you a blessing, which should help. If you have a reaction, then you might be on to something, and we can look into other measures, but I think you really need to take some time to relax and process things.”

Suzi sighed in resignation. Maybe she was overreacting.

“Ok. I’ll take the blessing, please. And can I get a shot of something stronger than wine?”

* * * * *

Father Gil’s anointing had left her feeling both blessed and bewildered. The oil on her forehead seemed to seep into her skin, mingling with the doubts that swirled within. She wasn’t a churchgoer, nor did she adhere to any particular faith. Yet, here she was, touched by a ritual meant for believers. Was it the camaraderie with Father Gil that made her accept it? Or was there something more profound at play?

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As she sat in her car, the engine’s hum a distant backdrop, Suzi grappled with the aftermath. Unanswered questions buzzed like restless bees. Aiden beckoned from the recesses of her mind. She longed to call him, but if she ended up choosing not wanting him up here and she did not want to leave, she’d lose him and a week up here with her would just be a week filled with great sex.

“Damn it, Annie,” she muttered, her inner voice sharp.

The thought of Aiden stirred something primal—a twinge in her nethers, a hunger that transcended mere desire. She could almost taste their passion, their night of unbridled intimacy.

She decided she needed to try to keep her job at least, so she called Nick. He did not answer.

“Hi, Nick. It’s Suzi.” She hated leaving voicemails. “I’m sorry I ran out, and I’m sorry for fucking up Mr. McGillicuddy’s embalming. Doyle should be able to fix it if he has not done so by now. I need to try to process this a bit more, so I’d like to take the week off if you are okay with it. Please call me back if you guys get in a bind. I promise I am good, though. Please don’t worry about me. Thanks. Bye.”

She hung up her phone and dropped it into the passenger seat. Without hearing Nick’s voice, she has no way of knowing how pissed he is with her.

Her phone vibrated. She picked it up. Nothing. Another vibration. It was not her phone. Another phone. The realization set in that it was Dr. Adamson’s phone in her purse. It vibrated again. It was ringing. She quickly dug into her bag and pulled out the doctor’s phone before the caller disconnected. It rang insistently, its caller ID cryptic: ‘Genius, Inc.’ Suzi’s pulse quickened. She swiped the green check mark and pressed the phone to her ear.

“Adamson?” A man’s voice said. “Adamson? Can you hear me?”

A pause.

“Who is this? Why do you have his phone?”

The line disconnected abruptly. Shit. She’d hoped answering would unlock the phone, revealing its secrets. But no such luck.

Nick’s text interrupted her thoughts: ‘That’s fine. Jo and Doyle can cover.’

“Fuck.” Suzi said to both situations.

Nick was pissed, and she’d gotten nowhere with Dr. Adamson’s phone.

Dr. Adamson held the key to her strange predicament. The demon language—the heated exchange between him and his shooter—had marked her. She clung to the memory of those guttural sounds, desperate for answers.

“We know that demon language now,” Suzanne’s voice intruded, a whisper from the void.

Suzi nodded inwardly. Yes, they did. But what did it mean? She needed to return to that place, that nameless void, that place her alter selves call home. It deserved a moniker—a sense of belonging.

“Is it a place?” she wondered aloud.

“Void-Place,” Spike suggested, practical yet enigmatic.

“Ploid,” James chimed in, playful.

Annie, ever the provocateur, teased, “The ‘Bone Zone.’”

“Void is simple enough,” thought Judith.

Suzi’s quiet thought resonated: “Void Home.”

A Hispanic boy, too young for legal work, approached her car, arms laden with vibrant paper. Curious, she rolled down the window. His smile was infectious as he handed her a flier for ‘Guillermo’s Tacos’—a new Mexican restaurant in Naperville. Hunger gnawed at her; the scone she’d hastily devoured hours ago was a distant memory. ‘Guillermo’s Tacos’ lay on her route home, and this felt like a sign—an affirmation from the very real God she now knew was real.

She tossed the flier onto the dashboard and drove toward her apartment. Her thoughts swirled as she drove past ‘Guillermo’s Tacos’ and absentmindedly drove to her apartment. She pulled into her parking space, only thinking about getting back into that place. The void-place. She still had no idea what to call it. She opened the door and the wind picked up the flier and took it into the air. In a split second, as she watched the paper fly up, it blotted out the sun, and she knew the name of the place.

“Guillermo!”

“That makes no sense at all,” Judith scoffed.

Suzi, undeterred, sprinted up the stairs, newfound energy coursing through her veins. Ygritte, her docile companion, received an affectionate greeting. But Suzi’s focus remained unwavering. She retrieved a makeup mirror from her bedside table, its magnification side reflecting her intent gaze. This wasn’t about blackheads or beauty masks—it was about diving deeper. She used it to look deep into her eyes.

Whispering ‘Guillermo,’ she surrendered to the tunnel vision, darkness enveloping her senses.

Azailkahbil, no longer in turmoil, sat motionless. Its form no longer flickered between solid and ethereal. Shame weighed heavily upon it—the consequences of its choices.

“What do you want from me?” Suzi projected her thoughts toward the creature.

“Azailkahbil tonta pey,” it repeated.

“Yes, I know you want to live. Why did you attack me?”

It looked at her, confused. She was about to repeat the question when it said, “Luab yusib. Effum luab yusib.” – ‘Your power. All of your power.’

“Did you kill Dr. Adamson?”

“Skwaw?” Confusion clouded its gaze.

“Dr. C. E. Adamson. The attack a week ago—was it you?”

“Azailkahbil kug diwugnus,” it wailed as if crying for its Mommy. ‘Azailkahbil doesn’t know.’

“Okay. Calm down. You wanted my power. What power? I don’t have any power,” she said to the creature, feeling like she slightly offended Judas, although Judas did not flinch or indicate that she was even the slightest bit hurt.

Then Azailkahbil spilled its truth. “Ideq oc skwed si kuso. Xubi yusib, xubic yusib. Azailkahbil woffik Harold egk durqed yusib Azailkahbil peri ukbagway.” More power, better power. Harold’s death had intoxicated Azailkahbil, craving more.

“Harold? Who the fuck is Harold?” James interjected, the other alters equally intrigued.

“Why me?” Suzi’s mental scream echoed.

Judas edged closer.

The small demon looked at her floating mind with sad, puppy eyes.

“Ybiddl yusib. Yxaj hieadormaf yusib.” ‘Your pretty power. Your beautiful power.’

“Awww. Did he call us pretty? Can we keep him?” Annie asked.

“My pretty power? You can see power in people?”

“Umjuabci” – ‘We can.’

“What made my power so pretty?”

“Azailkahbil girib ces xafdoyfil jufubc ogfeg xeabe himubi.” – ‘Azailkahbil had never seen such colors in an aura before.’

“An aura?”

It nodded its spiney little head.

Suzi’s connection to Guillermo waned, slipping through her fingers like smoke. She thought briefly about trying to hold on but decided she needed to be in reality for a bit, and she willingly let Guillermo dissipate. She was face down on the floor.

Pushing herself up, Suzi’s body protested. Her face throbbed, her nose a battleground of pain. But her side—oh, her side screamed loudest. She winced, fingers probing the wound. Blood coated her skin, sticky and warm. A shard of mirror protruded from her left side, perilously close to her heart. Panic surged, adrenaline fueling her fight for survival.

Ygritte, her loyal companion, whined. Suzi’s phone rang, its urgency slicing through the haze. She reached, fingers trembling. A scream tore from her throat as agony flared anew. The shard pressed deeper, a cruel reminder of her vulnerability.

Her vision blurred, darkness encroaching. The ring Aiden had given her pulsed, red like a warning beacon. Suzi fought to stay conscious, her hand clamped over the wound. Blood seeped between her fingers, life slipping away.

“Ah, fuck me,” she groaned as she lost consciousness.

“I liked this top!” James protested.