WHERE EVIL BREATHES

Mann was welcomed by a dreadful presence as soon as he stepped into the Benetton house.

Though decorated into the most homely atmosphere, the dark energy confiscating the house had completely sucked out its soul - leaving behind only lifeless flower sofas that carried the smell of a funeral home - curved around a polished brown table, and a medium-sized kitchen that had been stolen of its heartbeat.

“Sorry I have nothing to offer you.” Jenevive Benetton apologized once again as she scuttled to guide Mann to her daughter’s room.

“We have tried every pastor, monk, scientist, doctors, you name it… none worked.” She curtly explained, “I know your religion differs from ours, consider this a last resort. And, am I not glad that you actually came!”

Mann nodded - dazed - his deep brown eyes fixed on the decayed flower painting hung on the wall.

“Raki? Is that how it is pronounced?” She gave a soft nervous chuckle, “Sorry, I am not really familiar with Muslim pastor’s titles.

“Not a Muslim pastor …” Mann spoke without breaking contact from the weird painting. “We are called sheikhs, and for exorcists like us…” he finally tore his gaze away and cast it on Jenevive. “Raqi… is what I believe you are trying to say,” he concluded.

“Ah…” Jenevive nodded her understanding. “Well, it is that way, Raaqi.” She said, implementing the corrections this time.

The sound stood out like a misaligned tune to Mann, still, he ignored the unintended mistake.

Mann gave her a nod as she directed him up the stairs. Immediately he climbed the second floor, the wood creaked under his weight. It sounded hollow, but thick with something Mann is yet to understand.

He moved sleekly across the floor, his frame towering over Jenevive’s despite him maintaining a light distance.

Jenevive stopped at the red door at the end of aisle. What Mann’s eye noticed first was the wooden bird toy hanging on the door - its eyes, though solid, seemed to follow his movements.

Without knocking, Jenevive took hold of the worn-out cold steel, turned it, and pushed the door open. The wood collided with the floor and groaned, loudly.

“Come in.” Jenevive forced a smile as she waddled inside the dimly lit room. “She is here.”

Leg raised, Mann prayed inwardly ‘Oh Lord, protect me from the evil of the devil.’ And then he stepped inside, audibly saying “In the name of Allah.”

Almost instantly, a wave of dread, and decaying hope washed over Mann. His feet slowed - as a damp smell punched his nostrils - forcing him to remain glued briefly on the spot.

Slowly, he swept his eyes about the room, capturing sight of: A normal mid-sized bed, one bean bag, pictures and posters hung all over the walls, a wardrobe, and one window across him.

Nothing weird. He noted.

Then he stepped further in. “Can you pull the curtains, please?” Mann requested. He tried hard to sound logical, but he was actually feeling a sense of claustrophobia starting to settle in.

“She doesn’t like the light.” Jenevive said, barely a whisper.

Mann had to lean in. “Doesn’t like what?”

“NO LIGHT!!” A gritty voice barked into his right ear.

Sharply, he spun around, his eyes falling on the sleeping sick girl sprawled on the bed. Her shackled wrists and ankles were a dark, gross purple from weeks of intense pain.

She is in a stained white night gown, her dry hair fell over her face, leaving only her cracked lips exposed.

Mann felt a clot of empathy in his heart, but he wouldn’t dare show it.

“Subhanallah.” He whispered.

The mother, Jenevive, sniffed and said tearfully, “This is my Sarah. If you had seen her before, you’d see how pretty my little girl is. And now, she looks like this …” she broke down, “I don’t understand how all this is possible. I don’t think I can do this any longer.”

Mann could only watch heavy-heartedly as Jenevive ran out of the room, weeping, and hurting for her poor child. He wasn’t there to console a hurting mother though, he was there to help her daughter.

When Jenevive reached out to him weeks ago, Mann declined; he was skeptical getting involved with people of different cultures and religions. But after seeing Sarah’s case, it felt like a calling. And there he was, staring cluelessly at the waning soul before him.

A younger woman sailing into the room snapped Mann back to the present.

“I’m sorry, I’m late.” The lady said as she placed her backpack on the floor, and her bracelet crinkled. She rose up with an overly wide smile, “Sorry again, I was occupied with my presentation.” She released a breath, and then extended her hand, “Hi, I am Laura. Sarah’s best friend.”

In the most respectful gesture, Mann nodded, “I am Muslim, I cannot touch a non-mahram woman.”

“Oh, yeah!” Laura sheepishly put her hand away, sighed, and glanced at her friend, “I can’t believe Sarah’s like this. She was fine, though she’s been complaining of a headache for weeks. She got checkups, doctors saw nothing. Pastors came, monks, Hindu monks, so many different people, none could help.”

She turned to Mann. “I pray that your own way works. I want to see nothing more than our Sarah healed.”

Mann heard Sarah’s words - genuine - yet practiced; she probably said it more times than she’s ever said her own name.

“Can you wake her up, please?” Mann requested.

“Of course, yes.” Laura swiftly moved to the bed, sat carefully beside Sarah, she pushed away the hair on her face, before gently tapping her shoulder, “Hey, Sarah, someone’s here to check up on you.”

Sarah flickered open her zoned-out green eyes and set them on Mann. “Hello.” She said - her voice weak and raspy.

“Hello, sister.” Mann started, “I am Raqi Osama Ibrahim, you can call me Mann, and I am here to help you. Please, do not be afraid and trust me.”

“I will try my best.” Sarah whispered.

Giving a short nod, Mann started, “In the name of Allah …” he was reciting the Ruqyah in slow but clear words, his smooth voice embracing the walls of the room, and almost immediately, Sarah started to react to the divine Ayats. She was trembling, sweating, and fidgeting.

Scared, Laura lurched away to the other side, watching in horror.

But Mann wasn’t watching Sarah, he was observing Laura - who was growing uncomfortable, she kept tapping her foot as if she was standing on burning coal. As soon as she opted for the door, Mann jumped in her path.

She shot him a surprised eye as she sharply rocked back. “Something wrong?” She inquired fearfully.

“Why do you envy her?”

Laura’s jaw slackened like a detached limb “Me? Envy Sarah?” her voice rose in a stridently tensed tone “Why would I? You must be delusional? Are you even a legit priest!?”

Mann remained unruffled, his eyes rather capturing her shaking hands. “I never mentioned any name.” he added.

Laura froze - realization dawned. “I-um… you just did …” she fumbled, the words dying on her lips.

“Enough!” Mann stopped her, “Do not give me excuses. I already have proof,” he pointed to Sarah’s portraits hung on the wall behind Laura, “You dress like her, from your hairstyle, shoes, makeup, and even her bracelet. For someone who wants her friend back, why does it feel like you are trying to replace her?”

Her face went pale - the color draining fast.

“This is a simple case of Al-Ayn. You have casted the dark shadows of evil eye on your friend, and for her to be healed, you must let go of your jealousy, Please!.” Mann pleaded. “You can just …”

“ENOUGH!” Laura barked, forcing Mann to fall silent. “How dare you accuse me of hurting my friend?” she snarled, “I am going to tell Jenevive to send you off!”

She threatened and stormed out of the room.

Mann turned with the intention of following Laura, but was forced to stop as a hysterical chuckle came from Sarah.

He wheeled around to face her. Sarah’s eyes were dark, inhumane. Her smile stretched from ear-to-ear. She perused at Mann with intent and clarity - her gaze evoking something flesh-gnawing inside him.

She spoke wickedly, “A simple case of evil eye?” Sarah mocked, “Not so simple now… RAAQI!!!!”

Mann’s heart skipped an abrupt beat. Only now, does he realize, this was more than meets the eye.

Sarah was not only affected by evil eye, a dark presence lurched inside her. Though underprepared, his defenses flared.

“I will repel you, demon!” Mann snarled.