Chapter 8 Go Back

The wheels of a taxi came to a halt at a motel. Matt paid the driver before stepping out. He made his way to the motel and took notice of Mark's car in the parking lot. Matt walked past the receptionist.

He dragged his feet up the stairs and headed for his room. Mark flung the door wide open, scowling at him. He stepped aside and crossed his arms. Matt ignored Mark and went straight for the wardrobe. He pulled out a bag and started to pack his things into it.

Mark wiped his face in frustration. "What are you doing?" he impatiently asked.

"I’m preparing to leave town." Matt bluntly replied without stopping to look at Mark.

"Are you trying to put yourself into more problems? There's an investigation going on. You can't just fucking leave town." Mark rebuked, "Where were you anyway? I have been trying to reach you." he asked, irritated.

"At the police station. My battery died, sorry." Matt replied, and zipped up his bag. He picked it up but Mark snatched it and threw it across the bed. "Mark," Matt sighed.

"I know that you are desperate to find Ruth but putting your life on hold is crazy, man. Mom won't be able to handle it if you go back to jail." this time Mark's words were gentle.

"She needs me!" Matt exploded, Mark stepped back. "Those idiots don't believe a word I say and while they are wasting time investigating, she is out there scared and alone!"

Mark raised his hands up in surrender, "Matt, calm down," he soothed.

"I am going after her." Matt declared with determination.

"You can't leave town, man. Doing so will make you guilty. You’re already a suspect." Mark tried to reason with Matt.

"I have been proven innocent. Two of the maids witnessed Muriel attack us." Matt admonished and picked the bag up.

Matt headed for the door but Mark blocked him with his hand up. "Even still man," he shook his head. "You are talking about going to face a demon."

"For Ruth, I will face even the devil himself." Matt said through his gritted teeth. He balled his hand into a fist as the scowl on his face became prominent. "Get out of my way."

Mark shook his head, skeptical. "You don't even believe in God much less demons. That woman was just sprouting nonsense." he tried again.

"You have been a Christian all your life. Can you honestly tell me that what I told you isn't true?" Matt asked Mark with a vein sticking out of his neck. "In fact, fuck what I told you. Let's talk about what happened to the psychic and her accomplice. Were their deaths natural?" Matt stabbed Mark in the chest with his finger, "Give me your opinion as a Christian."

Mark dropped his gaze as defeat took over his eyes. Matt brushed past him and made his way down the stairs. He left the motel in long strides. Not even a single taxi was available when he finally got out.

Fortunately, Matt didn't have to wait for long before he saw one turning into the road. He raised his hand to stop it but dropped it slightly when he heard his name.

"Why don't we take my car instead?" Mark offered with a faint smile and Matt turned back.

****

The next night, Matt and Mark stood in a queue at the airport. They presented their passports, visas and air tickets before getting into the plane heading to Brazil. Mark sat by the window with Matt beside him.

An air hostess stood in the aisle and demonstrated to the passengers on how to use the emergency oxygen masks. Having heard the tutorial more than once, Matt tuned her out and pulled out his headsets. He plugged them into his phone and sat back.

Due to the long drive, coupled with lack of sleep; Matt and Mark found themselves dozing off to slumber. As Matt slept, ‘Kiss an angel good morning’ by Charley Pride played through his headsets. The song got deep into his subconscious and made its way into his dreams.

Matt was at his house. He made his way into his room. Ruth was lying down on his bed in only his T-shirt. Her shaggy white hair nearly covered her whole face as she sang to the lyrics. She rolled to her side and grinned seductively at Matt. With only her finger, she asked him to join her on the bed.

Matt crawled on top of her. Ruth spread her legs for him. They’re lips hungrily met in a deep kiss. Ruth arched her neck. Matt traced his tongue down her neck. He caressed her thighs. She took off the shirt she was wearing. Ruth forced Matt down and sat on top of him in only a red thong.

Matt grabbed a cheek of her ass, squeezed and smacked it. Ruth moaned softly and slowly caressed her nipples. Ruth took his hand and put his finger in her mouth. Matt groaned at the sensual feeling it gave him as he felt himself getting stiff. Ruth kissed his hand all over.

She took his palm, kissing it ever so tenderly. Matt closed his eyes only to open them wide at a stinging pain. He screamed at Ruth sinking her teeth into his palm. Matt pushed her off the bed. She fell hard to her side.

Ruth whipped her hair back and laughed. Her laughter went from innocent and bubbly to demonic and raspy in a minute. Matt trembled at the macabre sight of his hand. Blood oozed out of it—staining the duvet.

He shakily looked back at Ruth as she got off the floor. Her laughter was gone. What was left was a bloody grin. She disappeared before his eyes in a poof. The room turned pitch black.

Matt shot his eyes open; panting heavily and sweating. He winced in pain. To his shock, his hand was bleeding. Matt got up with a jolt and woke up Mark in the process. He hastily moved past a woman. She glared at him upset. Mark sleepily watched Matt make his way to the bathroom. He then dropped his brows confused.

Matt held his hand away from his clothes and closed the door with his shoulder. He turned on the tap at the sink and washed the blood off feeling flustered. Mark and an air hostess rushed to the toilet door, looking perplexed.

"Sir, are you okay?" the air hostess’ friendly voice sounded through the door but Matt didn't answer.

"Matt, is everything okay?" Mark asked next, feeling tensed.

He and the air hostess ignored the stares and murmuring coming from the other passengers. They furrowed at each other and continued to knock at the door.

Matt let the water run through his wound until he was sure that the blood was washed away. Trapped in a roller coaster of emotions of fear and anger, he let the tap run and raised his trembling hand to his face.

Matt's eyes widened in terror when he finally got a good look at his palm. He covered his mouth with his other hand in shock. His wound was not just any wound. It had cursive words written on it in capital letters—‘GO BACK’

"What the fuck?" he mouthed as the knocks on the door echoed. "This demon is serious." he whispered to himself.

"Matt, do you need some help in there? Say something, man." Mark's desperate voice didn't break Matt's trance.

Matt opened the door in a daze. Mark and the hostess exchanged furrows and turned back to Matt. What caught their attention next was how Matt protectively held his hand. Mark reached out for it and the air hostess ordered for a first aid box.

"Let me see." Mark offered but Matt shook his head. "Come on man, let me see." he insisted.

Mark reached out and gently took hold of Matt's hand. He maintained eye contact as he gently unfolded his fingers. Mark dropped his eyes at Matt's palm. He raised his eyebrow and flashed Matt a stunned look.

"Shit is getting real, man." Matt anxiously whispered.

Mark narrowed his brows together and squinted his eyes inquisitively. "What are you talking about?" he asked, to Matt's surprise.

The air hostess, along with another man, separated Mark from Matt. The man quickly wore gloves and took hold of Matt's hand. He looked blankly at Matt's palm and stretched his lips when their eyes met. The next thing Matt saw was him walking away grumbling to himself.

Puzzled by his actions, Matt faced down. He gasped at his hand. There was no wound. No words. No blood. Nothing. His eyes trailed the aisle to the spot where he was sure that his blood dropped but it was clean.

"What's happening?" he wondered.

Mark gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Let's go back to our seats. Everyone is staring at us."

Matt took his seat in silence. He fixed his eyes on the palm that was bloody less than five minutes ago. Anger crept into his heart. Matt balled his hand into a fist. He clenched his jaw so hard that it hurt.

“Asmodues, if you can hear me, know that I am coming. Nothing you do will make me give up. This means war.”