“HOW?” THE MOTHER Divine interrogated the being. “How did she make you, Demon?”
Alan’s eyes darted back to the girl. “That is not my name,” he snarled irritably.
“What is it, then? Tell me,” she asked him.
“What is your name, Demon?”
The demon hesitated, staring fixedly at the Mother Divine. Finally, he hissed indignantly and said, “My name is Prince; Alan Prince, born to Jonathan and Samantha Prince.” His tone now was subtle and spiteful, ending in a mocking hiss.
As he spoke, he walked away from the girl and meandered slyly towards the other women praying, picking his steps from one edge of the Star to the other. He held his head low, leaning forward and sideways discretely, twisting his whole body shape at impossible angles as he moved about. He kept glaring at the women, hating the sight of them and repulsed by their continuous intercession.
“I am Alan Prince,” he said again, with contempt in his voice.
He got close to where Samantha and Davies stood, and cast his gaze upon the baffled police officer for a long moment, a leering grin playing around the side of his lips.
“Hello, Detective,” he hissed foully. “It’s good that we finally meet in the physical, although I’ve known you for quite a while longer.”
Davies gasped. There was sweat on his forehead.
Shifting his stare to Samantha, Alan said, “And here she is; my beloved mother, begging salvation when she ought to be cowering in shame and pleading for mercy.” He moved closer towards her, burrowing into her soul with his piercing gaze.
“I have been merciful all this while, Mother. I should be your God, for sparing you all,” he continued despicably, hissing. “I would have taken your life the very night I took Dad’s, but I wanted to give you the opportunity to see for yourself. Now do you, Mother?”
Samantha gasped, whimpering in fright with severe tears streaming down her cheeks. She seemed desolate, broken and horrified. She couldn’t take any more, couldn’t stand the presence of this vile being before her claiming to be her son and blaming her for everything. It was too much to bear, and she fell on her knees, crying sorely.
“No! Dear Lord, please help me!”
Alan scoffed quietly, mocking her. “Lord?” he snorted. “To which lord do you cry for help, Mother?”
She kept sobbing.
“How loathsome you are, Samantha,” the demon snarled. “How so repulsive I find you even in your abject state!”
Then slowly, he put out his hand as though to touch Samantha’s head. But he didn’t; he only kept his hand a few inches from the sobering woman’s head. Yet she let out a faint cry of anguish, jerked backwards suddenly and sprang to her feet.
But, as was abundantly clear to the people around, Samantha was acting out of her will; she was then under the manipulation of the demon who only kept staring in her face. She looked suddenly emaciated and bony, her face contorted out of shape, her countenance pale and flushed.
Alan Prince moved his hand upward, thus lifting Samantha off the ground cleanly, slowly and steadily to the consternation of the horrified detective standing just close by.
“Stop it!” he blurted, perplexed. “Stop it now!”
The demon ignored him, kept his cruel gaze focused on Samantha, lifting her higher in the air and suffocating her in his invisible grip.
“Stop it,” Davies shouted again, and drew his gun, releasing a shot in the same swift motion. The sound rang loudly in the hall.
Alan’s head instantly spun round in rage – just his head while his body kept the same posture – as he caught the detective up in the air without physically moving or touching him; only swiping his hand viciously, sending Davies flying precariously through the air and crashing on the floor several feet away. The gun fell from his grip and slid down a few feet further. The stunned policeman winced and grunted painfully, staring in disbelief.
Alan’s head rolled back into position to align with his body, and he looked up at Samantha wiggling in mid-air with sordid satisfaction. “Do you deny me, Mother?” he roared angrily at her. “Am I not your son?”
Samantha remained powerless with imminent death staring her in the face.
“Answer me!” the demon shouted, clenching his fists and immediately casting a great amount of physical torture on her. Samantha groaned in anguish, twitching and convulsing helplessly in mid-air.
“Am I not your first born son?”
“Let her go, Demon,” the Mother Divine charged him in an authoritative tone, coming forward with her scepter pointed at Alan. “Put her down.”
Alan turned and looked at the girl with indignation. “Why do you keep calling me that reproachful name, Mother Divine? I already told you my name is Alan Prince!”
Samantha coughed in agony, tried to move, turned her head with great difficulty and looked at the demon through partly shut eyes and a ghastly visage. She gasped and paused as she struggled to get her words together.
“I…I am…not,” she managed to say, breathing hard with each word she forced out, “…not your mother.”
The demon glared at her squarely and spitefully as though perplexed at the audacity of her confession. Then he let out a cold, dreadful laugh. “What?”
Samantha kept her gaze on him, sweat dripping from her forehead and every line of vein in her body stiffening. “You’re…not…Alan.”
There was a tensed silence. The demon paused for a moment and considered her repugnantly. Then he stepped back a foot, letting her fall to the ground in an exhausted, wind-sapped heap. Samantha groaned in pain but quickly pushed herself up and crawled backwards, sobbing and whimpering, till her back came against the wall.
“She’s right,” said the Mother Divine, through gritted teeth. “You’re not Alan Prince and she’s not your mother.”
The demon smiled. “Then who do you say that I am?”
“Do not make mockery of the Lord, Demon,” returned the girl.
The demon looked at her. “This fight is not yours, Mother Divine.”
Fixing a hard gaze on him, the girl said, “But it is.”
“Then you bring damnation upon yourselves.”
The Mother Divine glared defiantly at him. “Be gone, Demon, I charge you this instant; be gone!” she cried furiously, raising her hands, her voice instantly loud and terrible.
“Soon enough,” retorted Alan Prince, lightly. “But not yet, not without my body and not before I’m done carrying out my task.”
“And what is that?”
In response, the demon grinned wryly and rolled back his eyes in feigned exasperation. “Questions, questions,” he hissed. “All you do is ask stupid questions, and yet you know so little.”
There was an unnerving dark glow in his eyes now, an unmistakable evil oozing from his being. Then abruptly spinning around, he bellowed vengefully, “SILENCE!”
The hall fell into an instant, awful silence. The prayers seized as the Sisters cringed under the graveness of the command and stared in trepidation at the demon. The hall itself seemed to quake, vibrating at the beastly voice that hit the roof just then. Everyone turned, stared nervously at Alan.
“You cannot expel me,” he growled, moving his gaze across the faces ruefully from one person to the other, his lips contorted in a vicious snarl. “You cannot make me leave. This is my home, you miserable lot.”
Unfazed and undeterred, the Sisters soon picked up the tempo of their prayers in earnest again, chanting and reciting the Holy verses quickly. The Mother Divine herself, being physically drained from the exercise, lifted her hand firmly, pointing to Alan Prince with her silver scepter.
“I banish you, Demon,” she raved boldly, “in the Name of Jesus the Christ, Who was crucified for mankind and raised again the third day. I banish you!”
The being fixed her with a cold stare, unmoved by her words. If anything, he appeared rather wary of the whole episode. “Let it go, Mother Divine. It is futile to resist me, to contend with me,” he said.
“I command you in the…,” the girl was saying, but was abruptly silenced by the demon with a swift wave of his hands, putting a finger to his lips in a menacing grimace and shaking his head at the same time.
“Ah, not so; you don’t give commands,” he reiterated darkly. “There’s darkness in your heart, poison festering in your soul even now.”
As he spoke the words, Alan Prince proceeded forward fluidly as though walking on an escalator. Then he stopped directly in front of the girl and lowered his eyes, bearing down on her sinisterly.
The Mother Divine’s face was only inches away from his, and she could smell his sour, sulfuric breath in her face, almost suffocating at such close quarters. She shivered, repulsed and petrified by the depth of malice she saw in his eyes.
Shrinking back, she cried dreadfully: “You’re the devil himself!”
Alan Prince laughed sardonically and threw his hands in the air in triumph. “Oh, dear! You flatter me,” he leered in amusement, grinning uncharitably at the girl.
And he kept laughing, his voice rising and echoing loud in the air.
The Mother Divine let out a sudden shriek and doubled over, falling backward as though pummeled in her gut and shoved by an unseen hand. Her screams grew terrifying as she clutched herself desperately, wailing and quaking in agony.
“Dear Lord, help me!” she prayed in a squeaky, terrified voice, cupping her face in her hands.
Staring on in sheer speechlessness, both Samantha and Lee Davies froze in sheer horror when they got a peek at the contorted face of the young girl then; she appeared suddenly advanced in years, wrinkled and aged beyond her time.
And she was crying. But her tears were crimson dark, running down the sides of her palms in earnest. The tears coming from her eyes were cold rivulets of blood.
The Mother Divine was crying BLOOD!
Literally shedding bloody tears!