Chapter Text
The house looked so peaceful from outside, Miss Holloway thought. It was the kind of place one might find in a magazine. A white picket fence, not a chip in the paint. Bright green lawn. White house, green shutters, welcome mat on the front steps.
“It’s a cookie-cutter kinda place,” Duke said from the driver’s seat as the wheels of the old station wagon crunched on the gravel driveway. “Cookie-cutter kind of family. Too cookie-cutter if you ask me.”
The note in his voice gave her pause.
“You think there’s somethin’ going on?” Holloway turned to him. In all of the cases they’d worked together over the weeks and months, Duke had never once been wrong about something like this. “With the parents?”
“No, not exactly ‘something bad,’ per se, well…” Duke sighed. “You’ll see. They’re very, um, traditional people. I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
Duke and Holloway headed for the door, and she nonchalantly glanced over at him. His jaw was tight, and there was the slightest twitch of his fingers. Nobody else who looked at the man would think anything of it. Duke always hid it well, but Holloway knew him better than that. She noticed those little things about him without even asking, knew what they signified just by spending so much time so close.
He sensed the eyes on him and glanced over. When he saw her looking back at him, the corners of his mouth turned up into a small smile, those dimples indenting his cheeks ever so slightly.
“S’alright,” he promised. The reaction was almost instinctual. Apparently, he could read her worry as easily as she could read his. What he didn’t seem to pick up on was that he was what she was worried about. “The kid’s name is Isaiah, good kid. He’s eight. I’m sure you’re going to be able to help him just fine. I know you will.”
It was said with complete confidence, not a shred of doubt in his voice. Holloway wasn’t sure whether to be honored by the trust he gave her, or to fear it. Because she could fail. She’d failed before, and she could fail again.
There was an unexplainable pit in Miss Holloway’s stomach. It was a routine visit, just some nightmares, nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. It should’ve been no sweat. So why was her stomach doing flips and her feet trying to drag her back towards the car, as far away from this house as possible. And why was the door green? Why, of all the colors, was it green? It was the wrong shade, of course, but-
“Holly?” Duke was watching her, his face drawn with more concern now. He never called her Holly unless he wasn’t minding what he said. Referring to her as her nickname usually embarrassed him. “Holly, can you hear me? Are you okay? You need to sit down for a minute?”
She came to herself and realized that he had a hand on her arm, his eyes searching hers almost frantically. She then realized that she’d almost teetered off the steps in front of the house.
“I can hear you,” she said shortly, with a nod. “I’m fine. Come on. We’re lingering.” She pulled her arm away from his hand rather abruptly, and he jumped a bit at the sudden movement. “The kid’s probably waiting on us.”
“Right,” Duke said. “Sorry.” He sounded a little hurt, and the little catch in his voice when he apologized squeezed her heart a little, but she said nothing, she just nodded.
“So, is it still just nightmares?” Holloway asked him as he knocked.
Duke took a breath in to answer, but the door was already open and a woman all but collapsed onto him. Duke caught the woman in surprise, her manicured hands clinging to his broad shoulders.
“It’s horrible!” She wailed. “Oh, Duke, he’s possessed ! It’s awful!” She was in almost cartoonish hysterics, her wailing echoed down the silent streets, and her once-neat mascara was in streams down her face. “There are demons in our house!”
“Mary, Mary, please, try to calm down.” Duke did his best to gently remove the woman’s arms from his shoulders. His discomfort was obvious. “I brought a friend of mine, she’s a specialist. She can help your son, if you could just let us see him-”
“It’s horrible!” Mary wailed again. Holloway thought to herself that the woman acted more possessed than anyone else she’d met, including those actually possessed by some demon or rogue God.
“I know, I know.” How Duke kept his temper in check, Holloway had no idea. “But let us in so she can help. Trust me, whatever demon is afflicting your son, Miss Holloway can help. She’s an…exorcist. She’s helped hundreds of kids before.” His acting skills could use some work, and Holloway was biting her lip to keep from smiling, but the word seemed to have a sway on Mary, who finally stepped away from Duke, recovering herself. She studied Holloway with a shrewd expression, eyes narrowing.
“She’s not like any exorcist I’ve ever seen,” she said haughtily. Holloway recognized the tone of the woman’s voice. It was one of snide judgment, of superiority. Mary saw Miss Holloway’s eighties style, the way she dressed and wore her hair made her trashy, less than. She turned to Duke. “Where’d you find her ?”
“I’ve worked with her for some time.” Duke’s voice took on a hard, decisive edge. “Mary, I’m asking you to let us in to help Isaiah, because he needs it. You said it yourself, if he’s got a demon haunting him, he’s in trouble.” He stepped closer to Mary and lowered his voice, as if there were some invisible microphone that could pick up their words on this quaint suburban street. “And just imagine if word of this gets out at the denomination. It’ll ruin your family's lives .”
They had a brief staring contest before Mary stepped aside and let them in. It was clear she wasn’t pleased about the woman being in her home, but Duke’s words clearly won over.
“I’ll pray you’re able to cure my son,” Mary said shakily, wiping tears from her eyes and glaring at the both of them. She disappeared into a room and the slamming door resounded like a thunderclap. Duke let out a long huff of air, and for a count of three, the room was silent.
Holloway turned to Duke, her raised eyebrows giving up her surprise. “I’ve…never seen you do that before.”
Duke was trying to hide a smile, but those telltale dimples in his cheeks and the twitch of his lower lip gave him away. “I, ah, may have picked up a trick or two from you. Yours probably…works better, y’know, given the, um, the magic.” He chuckled nervously.
“Douglas Keane,” Holloway muttered. “You and I are spending entirely too much time together.” Her tone was teasing, but she really wasn’t sure whether to be proud or a little mortified that Duke had picked up her tricks.
“No such thing,” Duke said, waving her off. He stopped in front of a plain, unassuming wooden door. There was a cross hanging on it, brass that was just starting to rust. The cross seemed to glow ever so faintly, a harsh, burning light that seared into her eyes. Holloway wanted to rip it down.
Duke knocked lightly, careful to avoid the cross. “Isaiah? Buddy? It’s Duke. I brought a friend and we’re gonna help you, okay?”
A soft whimper answered his reassurances, and Duke let out a pained sigh, before opening the door and gesturing Miss Holloway inside.
The room was a prison of shadows. The fluorescent lights were on, blazing bright overhead, and a stack of what seemed to be new-age hip Christian children’s books made a colorful array along one sky-blue wall. The shadows on the wall and ceiling stretched across the whole of the room, twisting and dancing in unnatural ways.
Isaiah himself was sitting on a bed resplendent with simple white sheets and comforter, devoid of personality. Curled up in a fetal position, his hands over his ears and dressed in flannel pajamas. All of the shadows in the room seemed to be centered on him, the darkness licking at his feet, at the edges of the bed.
“Hey, buddy?” Duke said, kneeling down to eye level with Isaiah. He didn’t seem to notice the shadows, or if he did, he wasn’t bothered by them. “Heya, buddy. It’s me. It’s Duke.”
Isaiah looked up at him through red, puffy eyes. “H-Hi, Duke.”
“Hey.” Holloway could hear the worry in Duke’s voice. “I know that the nightmares and everything have gotten worse lately, so I brought a friend. She can help you, if you’ll let her.”
Holloway took that as a cue to step forward and give the boy a little wave. “Hi, Isaiah, right? My name’s…”
She paused. Isaiah’s bloodshot eyes were boring into her, almost staring through her. There was an intensity to them that tugged at the deepest part of her darkest memories, like there was something behind those eyes besides a scared little boy, and it was taunting her, daring her to find out what it was.
“Miss Holloway?” The comfort of Duke’s voice pulled her from her fog and drew her eyes to him. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” She managed a smile at him. “Sorry.” She turned back to Isaiah, who was watching her with his head tilted a bit. Whether she had been staring at him like a deer in headlights for a few seconds or several minutes, she had no concept. She cleared her throat and continued her practiced introduction. “My name’s Miss Holloway, an’ I work with kids. I’m Duke’s friend.”
Friend seemed such a hollow term for it.
“I hear you’ve been having some pretty bad nightmares,” she continued. “And…some scary shadows have been comin’ after you. Or so Duke tells me. Do I got that right?”
Isaiah nodded a bit. “Y-yeah. T-the shadows. They’re in my head.”
“Well, Isaiah,” Miss Holloway said. “If you’ll let me, I’ll help you get them out.”
Isaiah looked a little hesitant, something flickering behind his brown eyes. He looked over at Duke, who gave an encouraging smile.
“I promise, kid, that if anyone can help you, she can.” Duke nodded at Holloway, and Isaiah looked between them. “She’s an expert.”
“O-okay,” Isaiah finally nodded, looking over at Miss Holloway. “I’ll let you.”
“Good.” Miss Holloway tried to give her best reassuring smile. “Just give me a few minutes to get set up, and then you and I are going to kick whatever monster is tormenting you out of your head.”
As Holloway began to pull supplies from her bag, Duke waved her over. He stood in the doorway, ready to leave whenever she asked him to. He knew the drill by now, that Holloway and the children conducted their secret, nightmare-destroying ritual alone. She told him that it helped her to focus the children if they were alone, which was true, but her decision to send him from the room was more rooted in a desire to protect him from the horrors she saw in the minds of those children. She had no interest in breaking his heart.
“Holloway,” he said softly. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
She stopped pulling candles and lighters from her bag abruptly, looking up at him. There was visible concern etched on his face, and it dawned on Holloway, to her surprise, that the look was more for her than for the kid.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Holly, you’re…you seem off today,” Duke said. There was that damn nickname again. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, we all have bad days, but…but when you saw the door when we got here, a-and when you were lookin’ at Isaiah, for a second it looked like you were gonna faint .”
Oh. He had noticed that.
“All I’m saying is, if you’re feeling off, or something’s going on, I’d rather…I’d rather you be okay than anything else.” He shrugged. “You’ll help the kids better that way. S’not good for anyone. And…and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Holloway was taken aback by his words. She really should have come to expect them from Duke, but somehow he continued to surprise her with his kindness, the importance he placed on her well-being. She was used to being told ‘you’re a witch, you can do anything.’ ‘Come on, Holloway, just use your magic. ’
Holloway began to light candles, artfully placing them at the four cardinal points, on the edges of the room. The light mixed with the shadow like oil and water, to Holloway it looked like a rigid line. The boy’s room had become a battlefield between the soft glow of the candle and the thick darkness of the shadows. The lights in the room were irrelevant in this, the shadows themselves ignored them.
For the first time since they’d entered, Isaiah smiled a little up at her. “I hope you can do it.”
“We’ll do it,” Holloway said firmly. She gave Duke a nod, signaling that it was his time to leave.
Duke nodded once back, before turning to Isaiah. “Alright, Isaiah, I’m gonna go outside, make sure your parents don’t interrupt you and Miss Holloway.”
Isaiah’s eyes widened and his smile vanished. “No!” He lunged forward and gripped Duke’s hand tightly. “Please!”
“Isaiah, Duke’ll be right outside,” Holloway put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. He thrashed her off. “Isaiah-”
He was already lunging forward to cling to Duke’s arm and bury his head in Duke’s jacket. Duke tensed, but relaxed when Isaiah hugged his arm.
Isaiah sniffled, looking up at Duke. His entire body trembled as he stammered out his plea. “P-please don’t go. P-please, I-I want you to stay.”
Duke looked from Holloway, to Isaiah, and back. Holloway tried to catch his eye and quietly plead with him to go, but as soon as their eyes met, she knew he was set in stone. Wordlessly, she nodded and prayed she could keep him safe.
“Alright, Isaiah,” he said finally. “I’ll stay.”
Holloway took a deep breath. “Alright.”
Duke sat right by Isaiah’s side as he lay down, according to Holloway’s instructions. He was perched on the edge of the bed as she stood at his side.
“Isaiah, listen to my voice.” Holloway slipped into her familiar space. A weight settling over her mind as she talked, trying to pull Isaiah down with her. She reached out her mental hand, urging him to take it. “You’re falling asleep, and I’m going down with you. We’re gonna kick those monsters out of your head in ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three.”
A lightning bolt of fear shot through Holloway’s body and her eyes shot open as, at the same time, Duke’s voice came from the side of the bed, filled with apprehension.
“Isaiah?” His voice shook a bit, though he was forcing an even tone. “Hey-hey, bud. What’s up with your eyes?”
Holloway turned her head to face him and was met with a sneer. His face twisted in a Cheshire Cat smile when he saw she was looking. But it was his eyes that made Holloway’s stomach twist in knots.
Sickly, rotten apple green. Glowing from deep within the sockets.
“Hey there, Miss Holloway.” The voice coming from Isaiah’s vocal chords was not his own. Deep, rough and gravelly, pounding through Miss Holloway’s head and ripping up long-buried memories. “Been a while.”
Duke’s eyes were darting between this thing that was using Isaiah’s body, and Miss Holloway as they stared each other down.
“H-Holly?” He said hesitantly. “What…what’s going on?”
“ Holly?” The thing inside Isaiah’s body grinned a twisted grin, cruel delight in his eyes. “ Damn . That’s a new one. You were always such a hardass about the names.”
Holloway steeled her nerves, deliberately not looking over at Duke. She knew if she did, she’d crumble.
“I’m not standing here to chat.” Holloway took a step forward. “I’m here to get your influence out of this boy’s head, and you back to whatever cold, dark circle of Hell you crawled out of.”
Isaiah-but-not-Isaiah sneered. “Glad we’re on the same page, then. Because I ain’t here to talk either.”
He lunged for Holloway’s bag without hesitation. For the Black Book at her side. She grabbed for it, holding the bag close to her side with both hands.
Duke pushed his way in front of her. He grabbed Isaiah by the shoulders and held him back.
“Isaiah, stop it,” he said, straining under the surprising strength of an eight-year-old powered by an unseen eldritch force. “I…I don’t know what’s going on. B-but this isn’t you, kid.”
Isaiah stared down Duke. “This doesn’t concern you. Step aside.”
“Whatever you are, whatever’s going on,” Duke said. “I am not going to let you hurt Miss Holloway.”
“Oh, I’d love to see that.” Isaiah’s possessed lungs choked out a laugh. “I’d love to see you stop me.”
Suddenly, he seemed to forget all about Holloway and lunged at Duke, his hands outstretched directly toward Duke’s neck. Duke pushed back and Holloway grabbed the boy from behind, dragging him back from Duke.
“Duke!” She managed to say while holding the flailing boy, who was trying in vain to scratch and kick and claw for the book. “Duke, get outside.”
Duke was standing there, stunned. Miss Holloway’s words seemed to snap him out of it. “H-Holloway, I’m not leaving you. Not-not like this. Let me help you.”
Holloway met his eyes. The word seemed to still even as Isaiah kicked and thrashed, going for the book. “Duke. Please. Just. Go.”
Duke closed his eyes for a long moment, longer than she would have preferred, before he nodded, and opened the door, slipping outside.
The moment the door closed, Isaiah stilled, tilting his head and twisting to look at Holloway. Holloway pulled the boy back towards the bed, fully intending to force this monster out. She wouldn’t even let herself think the name.
“No need, Miss Holloway,” The Thing Inside Isaiah said casually, in that rough, gravelly voice that sent chills down her spine. “I’ll be goin’ now. This has been real informative, though. Great use of my time.”
“What’re you talking about?”
Isaiah just winked at her. “I’ll see you around.”
The green in Isaiah’s eyes slowly faded as Holloway stared, Isaiah slumped in her arms and all was quiet. Holloway breathed out a sigh of relief as the shadows retreated, the harsh fluorescent lights almost a comfort. Almost.
An hour later, the old station wagon pulled up to Miss Retro’s Throwback Diner. The sign flickered neon pink, washing the darkened parking lot in a soft glow. Isaiah had been laid in bed, Duke and Holloway had told Mary that the demon was gone, and now they sat in the parking lot in relative silence.
“Holly,” Duke said finally. “What was that? What happened back there, it was…”
“It’s over,” Holloway said, cutting him off. “It wasn’t good, but the boy is safe. It’s over.” She stared out at the purple dusk, tapping her fingers rhythmically on her thigh.
“Holly-” Duke said.
“I should go,” she said, opening the door. “Goodnight, Duke. Thanks for checking in on me today, when I thought. It meant a lot.”
“Miss Holloway-”
“I’ll see you soon.” Miss Holloway gave him a soft smile, trying to avoid the hurt in his eyes. “G’night, Duke.”
She shut the door of the old station wagon and slipped into the darkened diner, slumping into a booth and putting her head in her hands. The days events cartwheeled around her head. Isaiah. Shadows. Duke. That’s where all her thoughts tended to circle back around to these days.
She tried to look on the bright side: the boy was safe, Duke hadn’t been harmed. Sure, both were shaken, but Miss Holloway had won. She’d banished the spirit from the boy’s head and the shadows had retreated in fear. That’s what she tried to tell herself, but she knew the truth. The spirit had left willingly. She had done nothing. He had only left because he had gathered what information he needed if Isaiah’s voice was to be believed. And now he was still out there, biding his time and waiting for her.
Holloway stood from the booth and flipped a switch on the wall. The fluorescent lights flickered to life and Holloway almost thought she could see shadows fighting with them in the darkest corners, where the light bulbs humans had so cleverly designed all those years ago couldn’t quite reach.