I stopped writing this one in the middle. Sorry :X

The books were mostly useless, containing things she already knew (“Demon possession is a metaphysical presence that harbors itself within an unwilling victim.”), and things she knew were not true (“There have been no proven cases of demonic possession.”).

She began to levitate multiple books at a time, utilizing the omniscience of the demon to read them all at once. She could feel the same feeling she’d felt before, a deep, relentless joy. It was tinged with something she knew was not good, not pure, but she let it go. There was no one here to harm. It was safe.

She poured over the stack of books. There were case studies and “true stories”, academic and science-based research, and philosophical thoughts on demons from believers and skeptics. One book outlined the process for exorcism, and then immediately admitted the real ritual is closely guarded by the church. Another noted that while Catholics are known for their connection to exorcism, all religions have some form of possession ritual.

She frowned. These were not helping. They were storybooks at best, built on the premise demons weren’t real, or possession was just a mental disorder.

The demon yelped, a far away sound that was more like nails on a chalkboard.

It was calling to her to do something. She sensed what it wanted. She levitated a book she’d read twice already, and turned to page 396.

It was a chapter on religious fervor, stories about nuns and priests who’d been possessed.

She read through them again, paying attention for any signs from the demon she was on the right track, but it was silent.

She wasn’t finding anything. The books all fell from the air, and the demon made a sound like a wheeze and then a grunt.

She laid back on the old, misshapen pillows and shut her eyes.

There was something she was missing. Why would people go missing at the same time someone would be messing with her?

She was so deep in thought, she almost missed the demon signaling her that someone was outside.

—

“Your friend lives… here?” Sister Lou said skeptically.

Hector, hands shoved in his pockets and head down, nodded. “Yup. I told you, she’s… “

“Depressed,” Lou finished, looking up at the dark buildings around them.

They walked in silence for a bit, but as Hector had learned, that was not Sister Lou’s way. She’d talked all the way from uptown to here at the waterfront.

“Do you have siblings?”

He frowned.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, I forgot.”

There was silence again, and then Lou grabbed his hand and wrapped it in both of hers. They stopped walking and she held his hand up.

He was shocked and confused. She smiled at him and then closed her eyes and began to pray.

“Heavenly father, please help Hector find his brother,” she was silent for a moment with her eyes closed, and then she said “amen.”

Smiling wide, she pressed his palm in hers and then let go.

“Which way now?” She asked.

“We’re here,” he said, pointing at a warehouse with a door that looked like it had recently been painted, though with very little care.

The door flew up before they even reached it. Ramie stood silhouetted by the low light from the shadeless lamp on the floor inside.

When she saw Sister Lou, she shut her eyes in frustration.

“Why did you bring her here,” she asked, with quiet rage.

Hector started to say something, but Lou stepped forward and started talking first.

“He thought I could help. He said you’re-“

The demon growled- or did Ramie, too? – and her gaze shot to Hector.

“Depressed,” he added hastily.

“So he thought maybe we could chat, or you could come to the center, or… Whatever you want!” She said cheerily.

After a moment, ramie said, “I’m not depressed.”

Sister Lou looked confused.

“No? Then why-“

“Because of Rosalie,” Ramie said.

Hector slapped his forehead. “Because of Rosalie! Yes! That’s it.”

Sister Lou and Ramie looked at him for a moment before turning back to each other.

“Are you police?” Sister Lou asked Ramie. “Is that why you have all these… weapons?” she gestured towards the haphazard piles of knives and crossbows towards the back of the warehouse.

Hector stepped up beside them. “Yes, we’re undercover—“

Ramie glared at him, a low rumbling growl coming from inside her. “Stop helping,” she said.

“Got it,” Hector said, throwing his hands up and stepping back.

“We are not cops. The weapons are unrelated to the missing persons work we’re doing. What else can you tell me about Rosalie.”

Lou’s expression changed. Where before, Hector had only seen her radiating happiness and friendliness, now she looked more serious. Something told him he had underestimated her.

“What are the weapons related to?” she asked, never dropping Ramie’s stare.

A faint sense of annoyance passed across Ramie’s face, but something about Sister Lou – small and sweet, but scary in her own way – made it impossible for Ramie to stonewall her the way she always did to Hector.

“I provide service for some powerful people, which at various times require me to defend myself or others.”

“And why are you looking for these missing people?”

Hector started to step in. “I asked her to help find my—“

Both Ramie and Sister Lou’s hands shot up, stopping him short. He threw his hands up again. He put his hands in his pockets and stepped back again.

“I have reason to believe I am somehow connected to their going missing,” Ramie said.

“Wait, what?” Hector’s head shot up, but they ignored him.

“Why would you be connected? Did you know them?”

“No. Someone recently tried to contact me, and that seemed like too significant of a coincidence to ignore.”

They stood staring at each other silently for a moment. Hector stayed back.

“What’s with all these books?” they all looked down at the towers of books on demonic possession surrounding the battered mattress on the floor.

Ramie hesitated for the first time in their exchange. Finally, she said, “I thought they’d contain some useful information about… all of this, but they’re mostly just ghost stories.”

Sister Lou leaned down and picked up one of the books. Then, she smiled.

“It’s because you’ve got the wrong kinds of books,” she said. “You need texts from the church itself.”

“And where would we get those?” Hector asked, still as far back from the two of them as he could get.

“I know someone,” she said, clutching the book to her chest like a giddy schoolgirl.

Ramie reached to grab her jacket.

“Oh, no,” Sister Lou said. “We can’t go now.”

“Why not?” Hector asked.

“It’s, like, 3 AM,” she said. Hector and Ramie looked at each other. Neither of them had gone to bed before midnight in a long time.

“But we can go tomorrow. Meet me at St. Margaret’s at 6 PM, and we’ll go then.”

She handed Ramie back the book and looked expectantly at Hector.

“Oh, right, uh, let’s find you cab or something.”

—

He watched as they left the warehouse. He could sense their shifting energies: Incredible things were happening, and they were all so close to the next stage of his plan.

A whimper next to his feet broke him from his reverie.

Slowly, unsettlingly slowly, he crouched down and addressed the bundle at his feet.

“Sh sh sh, Miss Fatelli. We are almost home.”

The young woman looked up at him with terror in her eyes. She began to cry – again – her makeup running most  unappealingly down her face, staining the tape across her mouth.

Roughly, he grabbed her face. She tried weakly to use her taped up feet and hands to fight back.

He leaned down, very close to her face.

“You have been good so far, Miss Fatelli, do not make me punish you,” he dropped her face, and stood up.

“It is time, I believe, Miss Fatelli. I must have a little party for my – our friends.”

Quietly adjusting his jacket and collar, he lifted her up effortlessly, and throwing her over his shoulder, leapt down from the rooftop and began walking back uptown towards his office.

—

“How could you bring her here?” Ramie said through clenched teeth. She could feel the demon power surging through her, and it was all she could do to keep it at bay.

“How is this bad?” He said. “She can help us, AND she’s missing someone, too.”

Ramie stared at him, saying nothing.

“Some shit is clearly going down.

“You know somethings going on. My brother isn’t just missing, and you know it. I didn’t just come get you to do this because of my brother – all those other missing posters, those are real people, who are really missing, with families that love them.”

Ramie grunted. He was right.

“Look, I don’t know what the hell your deal is, but I just… Who else is going to do this? Do you know anyone else with superpowers and a shitload of weapons?”

She dropped her arms. The demon whimpered.

“Ok, but there are some ground rules,” she said. “One: no one else gets brought into this. You got someone we need to talk to, I go to them. Two: I call the shots. You can be the sidekick, deputy, whatever, I don’t care, as long as I’m the boss. Three: keep your mouth shut. Four: when I say run, you run.”

Hector nodded. “Got it. Do I get any weapons?”

She closed her eyes on frustration as the demon whined with annoyance.

“No, you don’t get weapons.”

“Damn,” he said, though he was smiling.

The warehouse door slide up, signaling him it was time to go.

“One last thing,” ramie said as he walked out.

“Yes, ma’am!” Hector said, turning smartly on his heel.

“I’m not going anywhere with that nun tomorrow.”

The door slammed shut with Hector on the other side.

—

Hours later, as the sun reached its mid-morning peak and people all over the city buzzed and hummed with work and life, ramie sat still on her deflated mattress.

They’d been looking at this all wrong. Now that she saw it, she felt stupid: why hadn’t she thought of it before?

Because she hadn’t been thinking of it at all. She’d just wanted to find Hector’s brother and go deep underground.

It was too late for that. What Hector had said made her see that.

When she looked at it bigger, when she looked at all the missing people instead of just one, the picture changed completely.

They were not chosen at random.

She didn’t know how or why they were chosen, but it had been on purpose. With purpose.

Just like she’d been chosen.

The demon growled, a low rumbling growl that built up into a crescendo that shook the ground in a 4 block radius.

The next day, the scientists at the seismic center were still scrambling to identify the cause of the quake, which seemed to have come from above ground.

—

“Your friend lives… Here?” Hector asked, looking up at the crumbling building. It had no door, and many of the windows were boarded up or covered hastily with torn plastic.

Sister Lou looked very serious. “Yes, well… You’ll see.”

They walked up the graffitied stairs and sister Lou rang the buzzer. It sparked and spewed loud static from its speaker.

“Jesus Christ!” Hector shouted as he covered his ears. “Sorry sister,” he added hastily.

“What?” Lou shouted back.

“Nothing, never mind.”

“Come on, let’s go,” she said, leading him inside.

“Why’d we ring the buzzer?” He asked.

“She doesn’t like surprises,” Lou said, starting up the stairs.

Up on the fourth floor, a single light flickered erratically. Some apartments were just shells left by former tenants, others had some dingy but true love to them, the interior design of those with nothing. A set of eyes peered at them through an old curtain over a doorway. A dripping sound came from somewhere in the walls.

At the far end of the hall was a door, covered head to toe with crosses of all shapes and sizes. Hanging from those were rosaries, and in between were bulbs of garlic, rotting.

“Who’s your friend, Sister?” Hector said.

Sister breathed in as deep as she could. “You’re not supposed to talk about certain things,” she said carefully. “Sister Mary Frances did. Now she’s here.”

She lifted up her hand to knock on the door, but Hector grabbed her hand and pushed it down.

“Hold on!” he said. “Are you supposed to be here?”

Sister Lou smiled for the first time since they entered the building.

“I come here every week, actually… Part of the center’s outreach program.”

Hector sighed. “I don’t want you getting into trouble,” he said.

She patted his shoulder. “Mother Superior says that sometimes you have to do the wrong thing to do the right thing.”

She smiled at him.

Then, the door swung open.

“What’d ya want!” An old woman shouted at them. She was hunched over almost completely, and her right eye was squinched shut. She wore a ratty night gown and one slipper.

“Sister Mary Frances!” Lou shouted. “I’m Sister Lou! I’m here to help you!”

“I thought you said you come here every week?” Hector asked her.

“I do, but her memory’s not so good,” she whispered back before following the old woman into what Hector assumed was a kitchen.

“Sounds good,” he said under his breath before he followed them.

Sister Lou began to prepare something in the little kitchen. The old woman stood there, confusedly looking back and forth between the “kitchen” and a curtain hanging from the ceiling.

“This is my friend Hector!” Lou said, taking cups from somewhere. “He helps out at the center sometimes!”

Sister Mary Frances grunted.

Sister Lou kept talking, getting a little extra of the old woman’s attention. Hector moved slightly to get a better look behind the curtain.

It was like he was peering through to Narnia: everywhere were papers, ancient books, candles – candles! – and in the middle was a tall desk. Next to it was a little rickety step stool.

“Get out of there, you blasphemer!”‘the old woman shouted. She grabbed his arm and yanked, sending him flying backward.

“You are not worthy, you child of filth! You devil’s kin!”

“Sister Mary! Sister Mary! He was t doing anything!”

“Get out! Get out! Get out!” She wailed, running at them with a quickness Hector would not have thought possible.

Quickly, Sister Lou reached out and grabbed the woman’s arm. As soon as she did, it was like Sister Mary had been hit by a tranquilizer dart. She immediately became serene and sweet.

“Sister Mary, it’s going to be ok, everything’s going to be ok,” Lou said quietly to her. “Let’s sit down and talk for just a minute, ok?”

Stunned, Hector watched as Sister Lou carefully sat the old woman down on an old armchair.

“What is going on?” He said, more to himself than Lou.

“It’s ok, she just gets… She’s not well,” Lou said. “Let’s just… Ask her what she knows, I guess.”

She crouched down next to the chair.

“Sister…” She paused, the looked up at Hector. “What does your friend need to know?”

His face dropped. “Oh shit,” he breathed.

The old woman’s glassy eyes twirled slowly over to hectors face.

“You’re brother’s gone,” she said.

Hector crouched down now, too.

“What did you say?” He asked.

“And your demon can’t save him. And when the time comes, she won’t be able to save herself.”

The old woman turned back to Lou.

“Are you here today, my dear? Is it Tuesday?”

Hector stood up and pushed a