Creep: Karma Inc. Case 4 by Gillian Zane

Author:Gillian Zane [Zane, Gillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Parajunkee Publishing
Published: 2017-11-12T22:00:00+00:00

Someone pushed a glass of water closer to me and I took a big gulp with a nod of thanks. What I didn’t mention was they never believed they had summoned anything and never saw any indication of a demonic entity. Their parents had found the spell book, and being very religious had accused the twins of practicing devil worship. Everything that happened in the family, from car accidents to rashes, was blamed on the twins and their devil worship. They saw that their parents truly believed a demon existed and the faith they put in the demonologist when he came into the home and banished it. It made an impression on their young minds. Later, when faced with dead-end jobs, and living check to check, they remembered their parents forking out money to rid the house of a demon. A plan was set in motion. They became Roselle and Raul, paranormal investigations.

They’ve never seen anything that they couldn’t explain away rationally in their pursuit of demons, but they, like the demonologist who came to their house when they were children, take the money, they put on a show and all is right in the world.

“We’ve told no one that story. Not even our parents knew what spell we tried to cast.” Roselle stared at me with interest now, and a little fear. Could she tell I knew the entire story, and not just what I was saying aloud?

“They thought the demon came because we were pre-pubescent as well as the spell casting,” Raul finished for her.

“They do like that age,” I finished. “It might not have been the spell alone.”

“It was the spell.” Roselle looked at her hands clasped in her lap, in contrition.

We were interrupted by the waitress with our food, trailed by an older man in a chef’s jacket. He was carrying one dish, my dish. His eyes found mine, and squinted with some unknown emotion. I don’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t me.

He walked around the table and set the plate in front of me, pausing for a moment to let me speak. To let me explain. But I wouldn’t. I wanted him to voice his questions, preferably in front of my audience. The final nail had to be pounded into the proverbial coffin, and not with my interference.

“How did you know about this?” he finally asked.

“I was told it was the best dish here,” I replied.

“One of the older people in town told you.” I smiled and shook my head in response.

“Then who?” he prompted.

“She did,” I whispered. “She checks up on you, on this restaurant. She wants you to bring the bread pudding back. She said everyone loved the bread pudding.” His face went white as a sheet, but he managed to back away without looking too upset.

“Oh-oh, okay,” he stammered. I could tell he had more to say, but nothing was coming out of his mouth. His head was doing this bobbing, nodding thing, reflecting his inner turmoil. I couldn’t tell if he was scared or excited.

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