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Excerpt for The Devil Beckons by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

The Devil Beckons




Frank J Perez

Copyright 2018 Frank Perez

Smashwords Edition



This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Contents

Saving Sarah

Deal With The Devil

The Decision

Goddess

Behind The Stories

More From Frank

Saving Sarah

I’ll try not to bore you with too much detail. I mean, let’s face it – if you’re currently reading this then you’re crystal clear on who I am. My name and face has been splashed all over the news and social media for what seems to me an eternity, about two weeks in the real world. One very brief introduction for those of you who may have been living on a different planet recently, my name is Maximilian Suarez. Max to my friends. Mad Max to those of you following online.

It’s been a long time since the word ‘mad’ has been appended to my name. Way back when I was still an undergrad and surrounded by juveniles. It was inevitable that those less gifted would place that moniker on me. What else could I possibly have expected from them when my name had been written about as the next Freud and Jung combined? Someone who wasn’t even fully qualified as a psychiatrist had millions of other professional psychiatrists around the world talking about them, about me, as the second coming? And now I find myself having to live with this pseudonym once more and not for the same reasons.

So I guess you’re all itching to get the answer to your most vexing question- Am I the heartless, evil, conniving devil incarnate that you’ve read about or am I truly insane? Would anything I put down in writing actually make you change your mind, regardless of what I write? Probably not. To let you in on a little secret, I’m not even trying to. This is all about me, I couldn’t give a damn about what any of you think. I guess a comment like that will make certain people out there think I really am the devil while others will see it as a sign of a psychotic. I get it. I didn’t rise to the top in my field by hiding from that type of thing and even if I am considered a crazy nut-case now I’ve not forgotten a damn thing about what I’ve learned in my professional life.

So, enough rambling I guess. Let’s get to the heart of the matter, the meat on the bones if you will. Ten-year-old Sarah Wilkins. The cute little girl whose picture you would have seen a million times over the past few months. I know what you want to ask; did I kill her?

Well, if you ask the prosecutor, the judge or any of the jury members that sat in judgment the answer would be a great big resounding yes. I dare say if you were to take a poll amongst most people in the country, they would also agree. But does this make it the truth? Perhaps, or maybe not. I’m not one hundred percent sure myself anymore.

I will clear up some of the things which have been reported. Some of you may not even bother reading anything further. I urge you to do so. It may just save your life one day.

Did I stab her body, as the court claimed, over one hundred times?

More than likely. I lost count after a while and I can honestly say that my arm was aching when I was done.

Was her throat sliced so badly that head was almost completely cut-off?

Yes, I did. Unfortunately I didn’t get a chance to fully complete the decapitation. Yes, it was my goal to do so.

Did I drink her blood?

Hell no! Regardless of what some of the more sensationalist journals and glossy mags may have written. I do not believe myself to be a vampire of any sort. The sight of blood actually sickens me. Let me put to rest the other ‘truths’ that have been written. No, I did not rape her. No, I did not mutilate her body in any way, apart from trying to decapitate her. No, this was not some kind of black magic ritual and hell no, I did not eat any of her flesh in some kind of cannibalistic fervor.

But I know the main question remains unanswered as yet. Did I kill that sweet, innocent, ten-year-old Sarah Wilkins?

In one word, no.

How can I possibly claim to not have killed Sarah when my preceding comments clearly mark me as having almost decapitated her head from her body? To give you answers to that I must beg your indulgence for a few moments more, even though quite a few people will have already stopped reading. But to those few brave souls who are still with me, I beg that you put any preconceived notions aside for the moment. I know I’m asking a lot and honestly, if this was someone else’s words I was reading I would have switched off by now, at least in my previous life.

This nightmare began for me at the request of a certain organization that I won’t name at this point. Not because I fear any retribution from them. There’s not really anything they can do to me. Not when I’m getting myself ready for death row. I’ll leave them nameless for the sake of leaving religion out of my story. Though I’m not confident I’ll be able to do so and tell you the full story but I’ll give it a try regardless.

As I alluded to earlier, prior to any of these events I was regarded as the best psychiatrist in the world. Some even claimed me to be the best ever, period. I won’t question your intelligence, it was something I was damn proud of, probably a little too much, but that’s hindsight speaking. And I see now that many people in the ‘real world’ would have looked at me as a stuck-up son-of-a-bitch. Rightly so I would hesitate to add, but honestly-I was the damn best! But back to the details. There’s no way I would have gotten involved if it had been Sarah’s parents or the above mentioned organization who had come to me direct. They were so far beneath me that I doubt they would have even gotten an appointment to see me. When the request comes from the Vice-President of the country however, the willingness to help out became something I would never say no to. I’ll try to leave politics out of the story as much as religion, both hold no interest for me apart from the perceived power that goes along with them. The chain of events and the relationships between all those individuals don’t form part of this story. Someone knew somebody, who in turn knew somebody else… All ending up with the Vice President calling me in to do him a personal favor. I should have turned tail and run for my life but again, that’s eagle-eye hindsight talking. The truth is, I leaped at the opportunity of having the second most powerful person in the world owing me a favor. Really, would any of you claim to do anything else? I doubt it.

So with no other thoughts going through my mind, I put aside all my other commitments and headed out to meet the Wilkins family. A normal family whose only daughter Sarah, was showing all the signs of demon possession. It was my responsibility to help this poor girl come back to reality with as little damage as possible. Nothing too demanding for such a bright individual like me.

As the car pulled up to the Wilkins's home I could already see how the poor girl’s mind had been assailed and her reality warped. No less than three individual crucifixes stood out clearly from the front gate to their front door. If this was the type of environment Sarah had been exposed to then the diagnosis wouldn’t take long to perform, even if her recovery would take longer. Ringing the doorbell, I tried to keep my thoughts in check. Preconceived notions and ideas would not help me, though I will admit to you now that I had pretty much made up my mind already. If the poor girl was being raised by a couple of deeply religious parents, then something as simple as being bullied at school would have the ability to cause some major divisions in her mind. Some people would cope by fighting back, others would retreat into their own worlds and others, depending on the level of pain would split into different personalities within the confines of their own minds. It had been decades since I’d heard of a small child believing they were possessed by an external force, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.

When Sarah’s parents answered the door, their very appearance backed up my suspicions, the fact they were flanked on each side by a priest in full regalia cementing them in my mind.

*~*

Since my incarceration all of my writings and journals have been strictly forbidden to me, so all that I write down in this instance is based entirely from my memories of these events. Some of the more pessimistic among you will say that I have probably twisted the reality of the situation to suit my own particular circumstances but let me assure you now that nothing could be further from the truth. While my memory may not be eidetic, what most people know as photographic memory, it comes damn close, enough to have landed me in the high 180's IQ bracket. I may mess up a tiny detail here and there but overall I can tell you with certainty that what I write down now are the events as they actually occurred.

So back to the Wilkins family, all three of them. Sarah's parents weren't the type to make much of an impression on me. Truthfully, if I had come across them anywhere else they would have dissolved from my memories before they were even out of my sight and Sarah herself? Well, you'll probably think me heartless but she wouldn't have fared an awful lot better than her parents in my life. At least not before all this happened.

After opening their door to me, I was ushered into a tiny lounge room, probably about half the size of my walk-in closet back home. I took in the surroundings as Mrs. Wilkins went off to the kitchen to prepare some tea. No matter where I looked, at least a dozen images or statues of one saint or another would peer back at me. Every single stare another nail in the coffin of what my professional opinion would be. If the poor girl was as far gone as I had been told, I would not hesitate to have her removed from this household. She would never have a real chance at recovery while surrounded by these things. No-one would.

Ignoring the priests I turned my attention to Sarah's father, asking him to elaborate on his daughter's behavior. I wasn't really surprised by his behavior as he mumbled something incoherent under his breath and made a quick exit, leaving me alone with the two priests. From the moment I'd seen them I knew they would have taken over anything that happened with the family. Self-appointed no doubt.

The elder priest turned to me and smiled an apology, “Please don't take it personally doctor, the family has been through a lot these past few months. Enough for them to have lost faith in most of the people they come across.” His head turned towards the wall where the kitchen lay, as if he could see through it to the couple in the next room, “We did try to make them understand that if you were going to be of any help to them that you would not only want to hear the story from them but absolutely need to. I'm sorry I failed you in that.”

Turning my eyes from the priest, I started taking a closer look at the religious icons on display as I answered, “Don't take it personal father. I would have been astounded if any of them opened up to me on first meeting. A certain level of trust needs to be laid as a foundation before the real building can begin.”

Both priests nodded at my words as the elder one's eyes followed my gaze, “Couldn't agree with you more doctor. Not just about the Wilkins but also about your unspoken thoughts on the decor.” His nodding head turned into a shake as he added, “There's more religious paraphernalia in this one tiny room than there is in most churches. Whilst I don't disagree with some form of acknowledgment to our faith this takes it beyond what is really healthy, especially for a ten-year-old girl like Sarah. It's easy to see where the psychosis evolved from.”

The priest's words caught me off-guard as I had fully expected both of them to be fueling the delusion that Sarah had obviously crafted for herself. And yet within moments of meeting me, the two priests appeared to be concurring with my own diagnosis of the situation. A diagnosis I had yet to give voice to. Something traumatic had happened to the young girl and her mind had done what it could to protect itself. Surrounded as she was by such religious fervor being possessed by an evil demon would be the obvious choice. I caught the priest's eyes once more, “I'm glad I won't have to be fighting you two when it comes time to help the poor girl. No offense meant but the parent's religious affiliations mean absolutely nothing to me. Sarah's well-being is the only thing that matters.”

The smile returned to the priest's face as he leaned towards me, “Trust me doctor. The Holy Church would never get in the way of your diagnosis. This is no longer the middle-ages and we know that nearly every case investigated by us has turned out to some form of mental breakdown. We really don't want it any other way. Being possessed by demons can stay in the dark ages as far as we're concerned. It has no place in modern society.”


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