Status: Active

Judas Is the Demon I Cling To

Well, My Goodness Gracious, Let Me Tell You the News.

I paced the six foot length of sidewalk between my motel room's door and the neighbor's curtained window, pressing my cell phone to my ear. Dad, pick up. Please. It went straight to voice mail.

"'You've reached Reverend Dave Adam's voice mail. I'm not available right now, but if you leave a message, I'll return your call as soon as possible." To leave a voice message, press three. To lea-"'

"Damn." I groaned in frustration and flipped my phone shut.

So dad's unreachable. I stopped pacing and leaned against the door, chipped flakes of paint falling to the ground as I slumped against it. That means mom will be too. They were probably in the thick of it, wherever they were. After all, they had the twins with them. The twins always did seem to carry bad luck along in their pockets wherever they went.

I put a hand to my forehead. My headache had only intensified after the mysterious phone call. At least I know what I'm up against now. I thought, playing the short discourse over in my brain.


"Roswell, are you there?" The man's voice asked through the phone's earpiece.

His voice was full of smooth tones, but something underneath made me grit my teeth. I stood, still and silent, waiting for what he could possibly say next.

The voice on the other end let out a laugh. A harsh, grating, inhuman laugh. My ears began to ring.

"Of course you're there. You hunters. Always letting your curiosity get the best of you. Will you not speak with me? I would just love to hear your voice."

I ground my teeth together to keep from spouting out a string of excorcismal prayers. The pain in my ears was growing all the while.

"Very well. If you won't talk, I expect you'll listen. I know, Roswell. I know all about the curse. About your family. And, most importantly, I know all about you."

"What about me?" I spat out, venom filling each word.

"Ah. Now we feel chatty?" I could almost hear his cruel smile through the receiver. "Too bad. You've ruined my generous mood."

"Who are you?" I hissed, my mind racing a mile a minute. He's a demon, whoever he is. Only a demon could manage something like this without due reason. I held the phone receiver pinned to my ear with my shoulder and knelt down next to the bed. I reached underneath into the dusty darkness and pulled out the shoulder bag I had hidden near the head of the bed. I pulled it out and opened it, quickly sizing up all the books I had stowed inside it.

"Oh, my dear, you don't expect me to tell you something like that, do you?" He chuckled again and I felt a new pang of pain against my frontal lobe. I winced but continued shifting through the books, searching for the one I needed.

Keep talking. Just keep talking, you bastard.

"What would that gain me? You and your family would just hunt me to the ends of the earth and then kill me. So, I don't believe there is any benefit to you knowing my name." He yawned into the receiver. I plunged my hand deeper until I felt the feeling of worn, leather binding brush my fingers.

Gotcha. I yanked the book out of the bag quickly and opened it, folding my legs under me and sitting as I did. I flipped quickly through the pages, my eyes scanning the paragraphs for the words I needed. The demon continued to blather into my ear. I didn't pay much attention to what he said.

"You know, Judas was a good friend of mine-"

Come on. COME ON. I scanned each page frantically.

"In fact, I'm sure I could arrange for each of you to meet him-"

STOP! My brain screamed at me as I scanned page sixteen. Perfect.

"And I'm sure you could get the same royal treatment as him-"

I placed the receiver on the floor in front of me. Obviously a demon put a curse on this phone. They were here while I was out. And now they're contacting me. I reached into the back pocket of my jeans and pulled out a small vial of holy water. I emptied the contents onto the receiver and reached for the rosary around my neck.

"In nomine Domini, arguo te.
Inimicus pereunt increpatione tua, Domine..." I began in a low, authoritative voice, holding my outstretched hand palm down over the phone.

The demon stopped its blathering.

"What are you doing?" It snarled into the receiver. My forehead began to fell as if it were on fire. I clenched my eyes shut and continued.

"... Fugit te inimicus exprobravit, Domine.
Dimittam arguens in furore in hostes reicerent..."

"You can't do this!" the demon wailed into the phone, his voice becoming less and less human and more and more like an animalistic wail.

"... Increpa hostem flamma ignis.
Mille fugit increpatione mea, Domine..."

"You can't do this!" It spat, screaming in pain."

I concentrated as my hand closed over the cross at the end of my rosary, imagining perfect, white light. My hand began to feel hot and the demon shrieked in pain on the other end of the line.

"Please. Please! Mercy! I beg!"

"Hold your tongue!" I hissed, repeating it in Latin for emphasis. "Lingua teneat!"

"Please! Spare me this and I can tell you anything. Anything you want!" It whimpered into the phone.

I paused only a second.

"I make no deals with demons." I stated harshly.

"Diabolus te arguo. Tace, et veni!"

The spirit fell silent as it was commanded. I opened my eyes and stared down at the phone, waiting to see if it would obey the second command and come out.


I held the cross tighter, waiting for something to happen. I leaned over the phone, slowly coming closer.

A hiss began to emanate from the earpiece and slowly, a thick entrail of black smoke snaked its way out of the phone and toward the open motel room window. The phone itself shuddered and slowly began to crumble as the smoke expelled. When the last of the smoke exited the phone, it gave a final shake before bursting into dust.

I raised the cross to my lips and kissed it lightly.

"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.


An incessant ringing interrupted my memory. I jumped and looked around, trying to establish the origin of the noise. It took me a moment to return to reality and realize that my cell phone was ringing away in the confines of my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the caller I.D. screen.


I flipped it open and pressed it to my ear.

"Roswell?" My father's deep, bearlike voice came over the line, worry thick in his voice. "What's wrong?"

"I just got a phone call-" I gulped and ran my fingers through my short hair, enjoying the prickling feeling on my fingers. "-from a demon."

"What did it say?" My father lowered his voice, his tone calming. I almost laughed at how little the mention of "demons" phased him.

"It said that it 'needed to talk' to me. That it knew all about the curse and our family and- me. For some reason it was interested in me."

The line fell silent, but I was sure I could hear the wheels turning in my father's head as he pieced it all together.

"Come home." He commanded into the phone a few moments later.

Home? I shook my head in disbelief.

"Dad! People are dying here. I haven't stopped whatever is committing these murders yet. People will keep dying if I leave before figuring this out-"

"Roswell, no." He cut me off, his voice full of authority. "You need to come home. Immediately. It's a trap. I didn't see it before, but this demon singling you out sheds a light on things."

My head was swimming in confusion.

"A trap? Dad, how-"

"I don't know. But you need to come home. Make sure the room is properly cleansed and make no stops."

The line clicked and turned to a dial tone. I pulled my phone away in disbelief.

What is going on?
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Title credit: "God's Gonna Cut You Down" by Johnny Cash