Lazarus Grey

Chapter: V

Piano Paranormal.

Eight weeks, eight frigging weeks it took Dominic to recover enough to finally be left alone. Gave me time to recuperate though, and for Mona to cast her voodoo magic to re-sanctify the church, and no demon would ever be able to get her to remove it. Mona, the darling, came round everyday for those eight weeks to check on Dom and me, even prepared us some great food to make sure we didn’t starve, which would have happened if the cooking had been left to me. On the final day Mona came round to see me off.

“You take good care now, sugar,” she ordered while she wrapped her arms round me in a tight hug.

For a woman of only five foot two, she sure had some strength to her. I shook Dominic’s hand and he pulled me to him in a friendly embrace, and whispered...”Thank you Lazarus.”

Ten minutes later I was back in the driver’s seat of my beat up old Mercedes and hitting the road at sixty.

About two weeks passed, and I hadn’t received any calls from Dominic giving me any new hunts. I’d spent most of that time just driving, staying in a few towns overnight now and again. I was simply cruising the roads and enjoying the views.

It was a Sunday afternoon; the sun was beating down with a temperature approaching the hundred degrees. I pulled into a gas station with the intentions of firstly taking a leak, and secondly grabbing a coffee from the diner. I’d been driving hard and almost falling asleep at the wheel, so needed the coffee to wake me up a little. Having visited the bathroom, and performing the necessary, I strolled into the empty diner and sat myself down near the window.

I looked out to see nothing but prairie with a backdrop of far off mountains. The sky was a bright blue without being marred by a single cloud.

“What can I get ya hun?”

I looked round to see the waitress, a woman in her middle years with unkempt dark brown hair, black horn rim glasses, and smudged ruby red lipstick. She held a notepad in her hand as she chewed on the pencil impatiently.

“Huh? Oh, yeah...coffee, black no sugar.”

“Anything to eat?” she asked in between scribbling my order on the pad and then tapping the pencil on her teeth.

“No, just the coffee.”

She shrugged and walked over to the counter.

I returned my attention to the mountainous landscape. Maybe I’ll head for the mountains, could do with some new scenery.

The waitress returned and slid the cup of coffee in front of me and walked away without speaking. I took a sip, it was hot and tasted good, the aroma of the coffee beans tantalised my senses. I placed the cup down and returned my attention to the landscape. I could live in the mountains, give all this shit up and retire, sure would be good.

Well my thoughts of retirement didn’t last long as my cell brought me back to reality; it was Father Ryan. Turned out he had a hunt for me. He gave me the lowdown; apparently I was needed by some highbrow dame who was having a spot of bother with a ghoul at her mansion. As she’d promised to make a large donation to the church if I eliminated the presence, and as they are the people who make sure I have all the cash I need, I could hardly refuse. I slung back my coffee, dropped a bill on the table, and headed outside to the Merc. I punched the destination into the satnav. Hmm twenty hour’s drive...maybe stop off half way, get my head down for a few...should arrive late Monday evening.

I drove all Sunday into the early hours of Monday morning, and then pulled over for a break, and a few hours sleep before continuing. I just couldn’t get comfortable, the events of the last few weeks kept bringing back memories I didn’t want running round in my mind. I made myself comfortable on the back seat, and it came rushing back...

After the incident at the diner where I lost Jooles to that son of a bitch vampire, Father Ryan kept me restrained and sedated for something like two months, I can’t really remember just how long for sure. He said it was time needed to ‘come to terms’ with what had happened. During those weeks, every time I came out of sedation all I wanted to do was rip the priest’s heart out for keeping me prisoner.

Slowly I realised my anger and hate would not get me free. Time passed and each day Father Ryan would sedate me less and less until I was awake most of the time. He never once lost patience, never once argued back during that time. He’d told me Jooles had been provided with a good funeral, and he was sorry to have had to keep me from it. I’ll admit I cried when he told me, I never had the chance to say a final goodbye, although about a year later I did visit her grave and said farewell, but she has never left me really. I carry Jooles always, in my heart and fondest memories; that can never be taken from me.

Eventually, the pain of Jooles death eased, eased enough for me to be released from my bonds. When Father Ryan removed those bonds, the burning need for retribution didn’t come as I expected. We had in fact moved on to become friends, I no longer saw Father Ryan as the enemy. Then followed the question and answer period, a time where I asked and Father Ryan answered as best he could.

I told Father Ryan I was thankful he was at the diner and had killed that monster; his reply was that he wasn’t there for the vampire. I said well fate stepped in; his answer was the beginning of what I was to become.

“Fate had nothing to do with it, it was preordained. I was there for you Lazarus Grey.”

“For me?”

“I had been sent to collect you. Your destiny has been written by the saints.”

“Sorry Father, I haven’t a clue what you are talking about.” I replied with more than a little astonishment.

“Lazarus, there are a great many unworldly things in this world that the masses have no knowledge of, thankfully. Most only think on these things as nightmares or myths and legends, stories to frighten children. But they do exist.”

“Well I know that now Father, I saw the vampire, fought with him.”

“The vampire is not the only things that roam the earth. Evil is everywhere, it is your destiny to find this evil and destroy it.”

“My destiny...you’ve got the wrong guy Father!”

“I know you are not a believer Lazarus, I only do as instructed by those above. They told me you are the one and to prepare you for what is to come.”

“Look Father, I’m just an ordinary guy. I have no belief in heaven or hell. Only what my eyes show me. Yet you expect me to understand and believe I am some chosen one to root out evil?”

“I did not choose you, the saints did.”

“The saints, yeah right!”

“In time Lazarus you will come to believe all is possible. I will be your guide and through me you will receive your necessary training. When you are ready, the Quorum of Saints will bestow upon you their gift to aid in the quest. This they have told me.”

Firstly I thought maybe the Father had lost his mind, but as time went on he showed me things that I would have never thought possible. I learnt the ways of old, the demon names and the life of damnation along with hell’s plan. Father Ryan taught me the ways of...

My wristwatch alarm woke me as dawn broke. Time to get moving, should be there by eight tonight.

I drove through Easterville just before eight; the house was just out of town, situated along a private drive with surrounding forestry. On reaching the driveway I found my way blocked by two large black iron gates between two beige stone pillars, on the left pillar sat an intercom. Fancy!

I leaned out the car window and thumbed the intercom button.

“Yes?” came an immediate crackled response to the pinging of the intercom.

“Lazarus Grey.”

“Ah yes, Mister Grey. You made good time, come on through.” The intercom guy’s voice replied as I saw the gates slowly swing apart.

I drove  up the winding driveway and on up to the house, well more than a house really, a mansion that stank of cash. Langstrom Manor, the residence of Mrs. Amelia Langstrom; a widow whose old man had croaked a few years back, and left her with the family fortune, and one twelve year old daughter.

Halting the Merc at the main entrance, I got out and tossed my cigar stub on the gravel and ground it in firmly with my boot. Then I went to ring the doorbell only to see it open immediately. I guess the guy stood in front of me could be described as the butler type. Roughly six feet tall, aged at about sixty was my guess; greying hair, half-rim gold spectacles, immaculately dressed in a black pinstripe with matching black tie.

“Where’s the funeral?” I joked.

“Mister Lazarus Grey?” the butler type inquired with a deadpan look and what appeared to be an upper-crust English accent.

“That, I am.”

“Mrs Langstrom is busy at present. However if you would care to wait in the library, she will meet with you in due course.”

“So, what they call you?” I asked in idle chatter as he practically marched stiff-backed in front of me.

“I am Robinson, Mrs Langstrom’s personal aide.” Robinson answered coldly.

“Robinson? What no first names where you come from?”

“Robinson will suffice Mr. Grey.” He again answered with a regimental precision as he opened a door, to which I presumed, was the library.

“Can I bring you anything Mister Grey? A drink perhaps?”

“A scotch would be good.”

“I was referring to a tea or coffee perhaps?”

No alcohol? “Coffee, as it comes.”

Robinson went off to fetch the coffee, I took the opportunity to case this library, and a library it definitely was. Two of the walls are virtually bookcases, lined with numerous hardbacks and paperbacks; some leather bound first editions too. Over in front of the large window sat a desk made of lacquered wood, a green-shaded bankers lamp sits on one corner while an old fashioned telephone takes the other. In front of the desk is a coffee table of green onyx and in front of that, a dark brown leather couch. The last wall had double doors in the centre and either side hung portraits of someone, not sure who though, probably old man Langstrom.

Robinson came back with a tray and placed it on the coffee table, it held a pure white china cup with delicate handle and pink rose patterns, complete with saucer. I looked at it not knowing whether to drink it or frame it; I’m more of a chipped off-white mug type of guy, and not used to such refineries.

As Robinson left, Mrs Langstrom came in. She glanced at me and then at Robinson.

“Earl Grey.” She said and Robinson nodded.

“No. Lazarus, or Laz.” I said.

She smiled. Well, how was I to know she was asking Robinson to bring some tea?

“Nice to meet you Mister Grey.” She said offering her hand.

I clasped it gently and shook it.

“Please, sit down and drink your coffee.”

I sat, but didn’t touch the coffee; something told me if I did I’d break the damn thing. Robinson came back with Mrs Langstrom’s tea and made a quick exit.

“So Lazarus, I have heard of your gift throught my friends within the church. Can you tell me how you came by such a gift?”

“Long story Mrs Langstrom.”

“Amelia, please.”

It was then I notice Amelia’s dress; it had the same rose pattern as the china cup. Amelia Langstrom, I placed her age somewhere in the thirties, shoulder length auburn hair tied back, brown eyes, and a definite British accent.

“Let’s just say it wasn’t of my choosing.”

Amelia sipped on her tea with her small finger extended.

“I have heard that you were apparently graced by the Saints?”

I didn’t respond. I was here to sort out a spook not give out my life story.

“Mrs Langstrom…”

“I will of course require this background information before allowing you to see my daughter!”

“Your daughter?”

“The reason you are here.”

So something was up with the kid, maybe a possession.

“What’s the problem with your daughter?”

“Lately there have been…” she sighed before continuing, “…Lately there have been some unexplained happenings involving Olivia, happenings that are just too miraculous to be normal!”

“I’ll need to know more Mrs Langstrom.”

“You should know Lazarus that I had you investigated before inviting you to my home. There are certain people high up within the church that speak of you with some regard while others say you are somewhat of a renegade.”

“If you mean I don’t conform to the whims of the bishops and the like, you are right. I do what needs to be done Mrs Langstrom, but I do it my way or no way.”

She took another sip of her tea, and at the same time her eyes moved up to the clock on the wall, a clock that up until now I hadn’t even noticed. When she placed the cup down she said with a hint of trepidation.

“As I understand it, your gift Lazarus, your righteous hand, turns the messengers of evil to dust. So if a human is possessed do they survive the ordeal?”

Funny, the only thing I could think about at that precise minute was I could sure do with a smoke. It was then I heard the music.

“The truth is Mrs Langstrom, not many have survived so far. There have been a couple but my reckoning is they weren’t possessed too long.”

“I cannot have any harm come to Olivia!” she said with raised voice.

“There are no guarantees in this business, but if you want my help I at least need to know what the problem is.”

“You are hearing it now.”

“The piano playing?”

“Follow me.”

I followed Mrs Langstrom; we walked down the hall past several well furnished rooms. The hallway itself was all solid wood, highly polished, so much so that you could smell the odour of beeswax. The piano playing had stopped. When we reached the end of the hallway was a carved wooden door, its colour was much darker than the other doors we had passed, almost black yet still brown. Mrs Langstrom gripped the handle the deeply shining brass doorknob, and as she did so, she put her finger to her lips indicating for me to be quiet.

She turned the doorknob slowly and quietly pushed the door open as the music started once again. She's at a black grand piano, in the centre of the music room was a young girl; Olivia Langstrom,  her back was to the door as she played Beethoven’s Pathetique

We stood there just listening for several moments, the girl never turned from the piano.

“Your daughter is very talented.” I whispered.

“You would think so wouldn’t you?” Mrs Langstrom answered just as quietly.

I looked at her with some puzzlement at her reply.

“Olivia cannot play the piano Mr. Grey.”

Mrs. Langstrom’s announcement came as a bit of a surprise as Olivia was playing the piano like a professional.

We continued to watch Olivia play, she never hit a wrong note, it was as if she’s been taught by the best.

“How long has she been doing this?” I asked.

“For just over four weeks now. It began one night; I heard the piano and came to see who was playing. I do play myself but not to this standard. I found Olivia playing the same Beethoven sonata. Since then Olivia has done the same everyday at the same time. The musical pieces vary, but Olivia never has any recollection once she stops playing.”

Once finishing the piano piece, Olivia got up from the piano and walked past us; she appeared to be in a transfixed state of some sort; she didn’t even see us. Yet the Righteous Hand didn’t pick up on her being possessed or that there was any sprit or demon present. Strange! Maybe remotely possessed?

“She now goes up to her room where she will sleep until the morning, and will not remember anything.” Amelia Langstrom said as we watched Olivia walk along the corridor.

“Well Mrs. Langstrom I can assure you there was no demon present while Olivia was playing the piano.” I tried to assure her as best as possible.

“Then what could it be?”

“Well, there have been a few cases of remote demonic possession whereby the demon latches onto the targets mind, but is actually elsewhere.  The demon would have to periodically visit Olivia to renew the possession. So I guess I’ll need to spend the night in Olivia’s room.”

“I will have Roberson ready a guestroom next to Olivia’s.”

“I have to be in the same room Mrs. Langstrom.”

“Oh, I see, well I’ll have Robinson prepare a camp bed in Olivia’s room. Maybe I should stay with you too?”

“That won’t be necessary Mrs. Langstrom, and I won’t need a camp bed, I won’t be sleeping.”

Mrs. Langstrom pulled a thick knotted cord next to the door, and soon after Robinson appears.

“Robinson, see to it that a comfortable chair is placed in Olivia’s room will you?” she asked, but her voice commanded an astute authoritative tone.

Robinson scurried off to do as told while Mrs. Langstrom ushered me back to the library. Where she told me of her concerns for the safety of Olivia; you couldn’t fault her for being a concerned mother that’s for sure. But whatever was controlling Olivia, wasn’t harming her, at least not yet. I tried to assure Mrs. Langstrom, that although Olivia was going through a spiritual manipulation, if there had been any demonic influences present I would have been aware of it.

“You mean your gift?” she said while gesturing to my hand, “The righteous hand?”

I nodded; “If you can call it a gift!”

“Mr. Grey’s chair is prepared.” Robinson confirmed from the doorway.

“Thank you Robinson…that will be all.” Mrs. Langstrom dismissed.

I knew if I stayed here she’d start to dig, want to know how I gained the righteous hand, but I wasn’t in the sharing mood.

“Well in that case Mrs. Langstrom, I’ll go to Olivia’s room now if you don’t mind?”

“So soon? I was hoping to…”

“Spirits don’t run on a timetable Mrs. Langstrom.” I cut her off.

“Yes…I see. Well goodnight Mister Grey.”

“Night Mrs. Langstrom, and please…don’t worry.”

Olivia’s room was as it should be for a child of her age, although immaculately clean and tidy, but I guess when you’re as well heeled as Amelia Langstrom, you don’t need to do your own tidying. Olivia’s room wasn’t overly done, a dressing table, TV, games console, stereo, wardrobe, a toy box which has toys in bright red letters inscribed on the lid, and her bed, a pink bed and several dolls lining a shelf to the bed’s left.

Robinson had placed an armchair fairly close to the door, and so was faced at an angle into the room, giving the ideal overall view. I took a slow walk round the room just seeing what was about, and finally checked on Olivia. She was sleeping soundly, oblivious to my presence. I turned off the lights, settled into the armchair, and began the long wait.

The drive down here must have taken its toll, because before long I was drifting in a sort of half-awake, half-asleep state, and the memories came…

I’d been with Father Dominic Ryan in training for roughly five months. During that time Dominic had worked hard in giving me all the information I needed on the lower domains of damnation. I’d learnt about the levels of hell, the ranking system of the demon regime, the powers of the high demons and the minions of Satan himself. Father Ryan has shown me how to exorcise a spirit, how to send a ghoul back to the pit, how to protect myself from the mind to the body in order to be able to face what was to come.

Months of listening to him dictate from Latin scriptures on the ways of the underworld. Then one day, a Wednesday as I recall, he came to me and said I was needed in the church. I looked at him strangely, usually the church was quiet on a Wednesday, well at least until the evening, but it was ten in the morning.

“How can I be needed in the church at this time?”

“You’ll see, now go.”

When I entered the church it felt different, cold yet not an unwelcoming cold. There was something different about it, not visual, but a feeling. I walked along the lined pews up to the altar, the church was completely empty. What is Dom up too? I was about to go back to the house when the cold suddenly became icy. My walk became slow, strained as if something was holding me back.

Next all the windows in the church became dark, like something was covering the entire building. It was a strange experience, my feet became like molten glue sticking to the red pattern carpet that ran the length of the aisle. It became colder, unbelievably colder, I actually began to shiver.

Then they appeared, and with them an intense light so bright I had to shield my eyes. Slowly the brightness subsided; the church filled with a sense of well-being, warmth not of heat but of compassion and forgiving. I stop shielding my eyes, as the light is now subdued and before me stands what I thought were three spirits.

The male was flanked either side by a female; human in appearance yet not of substance. Translucent but whole. It is difficult to describe something that is so beyond the mortal. They are like wisps of energy swirling to form the appearance of mortal beings, yet not entering this earthly domain fully.

The male spoke…

Coldness interrupted my half-sleep dream, and I knew instantly the spirit that held power over Olivia was near. I quickly opened my eyes to see a flowing smoke-like figure hovering above Olivia. The spirit just flowed above her as she slept. Smoky appendages seeped from its cloudy form to touch Olivia’s head.

I began casting the exorcism, keeping my words to a mutter, but it wasn’t enough. The spirit felt the exorcism approach, turned to glare at me with eyes of hatred and dispersed into the air before the exorcism was completed. But I knew it was near, I had felt it had come from somewhere close to this house. This place must have a mausoleum!

I checked my watch, five-thirty, the rest of the house would rise soon. Come seven Robinson was about, going through his daily routine, I caught up with him while he was polishing the family silver in the dinning room.

“Good morning Mr. Grey.”

“Robinson.”

“Breakfast will be served in an hour.”

“I don’t eat breakfast. Mrs. Langstrom up yet?”

“I believe she is in the lounge with a cup of tea.”

“Thanks.”

I immediately headed for the lounge and found Mrs. Langstrom. I told her of my views and she confirmed the house did indeed have a mausoleum. It was a distance from the house, set back in the forest but still on its grounds.

“Do you have any records of who is interned there?” I asked

“I believe we have a record of deaths somewhere in the library!” she answered as she placed her china cup down gently. “Shall we go look?”

I followed Mrs. Langstrom through the connecting door, which I might add I hadn’t notice, into the adjacent library.  She moved along the lines of books to halt on several black leather-bound folders, she pulled one from the shelf.

“Ah, here we are.”

She flicked through the pages, settled on the list of the interned and passed it to me. It was a fairly concise list of the eleven people who had passed away at the residence over the years. I ran my finger down the list, and settled on one Samuel Reins, a musician. Got ‘a be the one!

“So where’s this tomb?” I asked as I handed back the folder.

“I will have Robinson show you.”

While Mrs. Langstrom spoke with Robinson, I went to the Merc to collect a few things; holy water, salt, the usual paraphernalia I used to exorcise a corpse from coffin. On my return, Robinson was ready to lead the way. The walk didn’t take too long; Robinson led me along a narrow, overgrown path through the forest at the rear of the house. The path led up to a clearing that had been well kept over the years, and there it was the Mausoleum.

Robinson fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, fingering through them he found the right one, and opened the gate.

“Stay here.” I said.

“As you wish Mr. Grey.”

Inside there wasn’t much room before the steps led downwards, a copper oil lamp was sat on a shelf, I picked it up, lit it and made my way down. There were only twelve steps, and the oil lamp gave off enough light. There they were embedded into the wall, eleven tombs, their faceplates covered in dust; nobody had been down here in a long time.

I moved along each of the tombs wiping away the dust to read the inscription on each. I came to the forth one in, brushed away the dust and cobwebs and the inscription read…

Here lies Samuel Reins, a renowned concert pianist.
Found in his music room brutally murdered 1880 aged 44.

I ran my fingers round the plate’s edge, and used the tire iron from my car to pry it open. It took some levering but eventually began to give. The air was musty when I pulled the casket out. I quickly levered the lid off, and covered the remains with holy water.

“Please don’t.” I heard from behind. I turn and there it was…the spirit of Samuel Reins.

“I mean the girl no harm.”

I turned back to the casket and poured salt over the bones. “She belongs with the living.”

“I only want to hear the music.” Reins pleaded.

“Time for you to be at peace.” I replied and began the exorcism ritual.

It didn’t take long, there was nothing Reins could do except fade into oblivion. I stood there and watch him dematerialise, and when he’d vanished I pushed the casket back and resealed it.  I reported back to Mrs. Langstrom telling her Olivia’s piano playing should now be over.

An hour later I was hitting the highway at sixty. I turned on the radio and out came Spirit in the Sky.