Fair Balance by S.M. Kirkland

TONIGHT.

Celisa Cooper froze, the fingers of her right hand entwined in one of the many chains and necklaces hanging from her thin, pale neck. The sterling silver cross felt cool in her hand. Her grip tightened, and her heart thundered.

Tonight? I’m not ready.

Tonight.

Celisa slumped against the huge, overstuffed black pillow. Her artificially dark features, her eyes trimmed in black with heavy black mascara coating her lashes, narrowed in bored dismay, then glared in contrite acceptance. She would not argue. Ready or not. Tonight.

Posters of dragons and mythical creatures adorned one wall of her bedroom, but her eyes drifted past them in the same glare, stopping on the other wall. Her expression softened, her eyes studying each cross.

Crosses were safe, she determined, as the heathen and the saved used them symbolically for both mockery and support of their faith. She mounted them in an array of positions, upside down, right-side up, sideways. But her favorite was a grouping of similar-sized ones arranged to make a strange, crucifix-spoked wheel. Mounted in a circle, the long ends made the spokes and the smaller arms made the wheel. Her black-lined eyes traced the invisible circle made by the larger crosses, then followed the smaller wheel. She loved them, each one as the only token of her love affair in a forbidden world. She couldn’t remember not collecting them in her nineteen years. Chilled, she brought her black fish-netted legs up and wrapped her arms around them, resting her cheek on her knee.

She carried this heavy burden, a spiritual heaviness that sometimes wore her down but she did not bear it alone. Pushing a strand of bottle-black hair streaked with bottle-ruby red shimmers behind her ear, she stretched out on the bed, her chains and black leather jewelry clinking and spreading over her tiny frame. From the other bedroom, her brother’s voice floated muffled through the wall, invading her privacy. She was out of time and once she crossed that line, her family would, at best, disown her. At worst. . .she let the thought fade.

Tonight

Are you serious? Tonight?

It made sense. Her mom would meet friends for what she called praise and worship, giving Celisa time to do her dirty work and leave. How ironic, tonight they would both be serving their own god. Guilt snaked around her like her chains. Despite their differences,
she loved her brother.

A war was brewing in the Cooper household that her brother knew nothing about. He thought her rebellion during the last year was a way to break out of their clean, conservative appearance. He teased her about the black fingernail polish, playfully turned his nose up at her fishnet stockings, and offered to take her to a tattoo parlor to complete her look. Her mother had a fit that shook heaven and hell.

“Give her some time, Mother. She won’t always look like a devil-worshipper,” he told the woman with a playful smile. “Train a child up. . .”

Celisa bit her lip, trying to force back a smile. The smile faded and the heaviness turned to a stabbing pain. Their love for her had boundaries; they just didn’t know it yet. Anger welled
up inside of her.

They’re wrong. Their beliefs are radical and wrong.

Let them hate me.

But maybe Cain wouldn’t. Maybe he’d follow her lead. Anger faded into a painful hope that he wouldn’t turn on her. After tonight, her mother would hate her. Undoing all the brainwashing inflicted by their overbearing mother would be the biggest obstacle. Mother always had to be right. Celisa and her brother were forced to believe in one true faith, black and white issues, clear wrong, clear right, no in-between.

Since meeting E.C. and Ty, her world grayed. Suddenly, all the things her mother declared as evil weren’t quite so bad. She began removing her jewelry, starting with the spiked leather bracelet and the black and red jelly bands around her wrist. Next her chain necklace, the long one, then the bicycle chain. She unfastened the leather dog collar and the choke chain. Anything that could be a weapon needed to go.

In less than an hour, her mom would come home from work, change and leave again. Her brother, the obedient, good child, usually accompanied their mother on these rituals. But tonight, she had the assurance that he would stay behind. Perfect.

She needed to let E.C. know the time. He and Ty would have to help her–she wasn’t physically strong enough to accomplish the mission, and they were a team. A need to plan forced the guilt from her mind, but Cain’s singing bombarded her. His voice was lulling, and captivating and had soothed her to sleep many nights as children enduring a bitter, nasty divorce.

Don ‘t. She couldn’t be soothed by that voice now; it would open a
door back into their world. Too risky.

Living here the last few months was its own type of hell. Imprisoning herself in her room most of the time, she forced herself to engage in their conversations only enough to escape their suspicious nature. The hypocrisy stung her with guilt, but it meant survival. At the local college she and Cain attended, she would arrive early for the classes she shared with E.C. and Ty for the sake of their company. Outside of class, she ignored them. More hypocrisy. She came out of her room and almost collided with her brother. She eyed him before stepping out of his way. Tall, strong, and sure, Cain reminded Celisa of everything she wasn’t.

His face, always clean-shaven, mirrored his desire to enter the prim and proper business world, or some other noble profession. He rarely wore black, preferring khaki pants and polo shirts or button-downs in all the latest colors. The only similarity was the stark blue eyes. Those eyes now focused on her, causing Celisa’s stomach to shudder.

“Where are you going?”

“Outside. I need some alone time.”

“Oh.”

He sounded bored, but his eyes met hers with such intensity, chills rushed down her spine. Her soul shuddered, violated under the weight of his stare. If he saw the truth, she may not make it until tonight. She looked away and left.

Outside the warm, comfortable air filled her lungs and its breeze washed over her strung nerves. Fall kissed the trees in the yard, their leaves blushing. She hurried down the street and around the bend. The abandoned house provided her with good phone reception and concealment.

She pulled out her phone, heart racing as her fingers punched in numbers by memory. It was too risky to save it in the contacts. Waiting for him to answer, she fished under the garbage can lid lying on the ground. A gallon zip-top bag kept her book safe.

“Hey, C.,” E.C.’s voice chirped in its usual fun way. “Whassup?”

She opened the bag and pulled out the book. “It’s time. Tonight.”

Silence on the other end. “Are you sure?” His voice was no longer light, but calm and serious.

“Yeah.”

“Everything is in place. I’ll call Ty.”

Panic gripped her again and her fingers flipped through the book, forward, then backward, searching the marked pages.

I can do this. I know where my power lies.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “Yeah. But if I get caught, my death warrant is signed.”

“Are you afraid?”

“Not of dying, just the process of getting there.”

He laughed. At least someone realized she had a sense of humor.

“It’s initiation, babe. You’ll do fine.” His voice had sobered a bit.

Then he laughed again. “Maybe one day I’ll share my secrets.”

“You don’t have a secret. You just have more practice.”

“That’s my secret. Where do you want us to meet you?”

“At the house I showed you before, the one for sale, when it’s dark. He won’t notice the car, but it’s close enough if we need to leave in a hurry.”

“Any chance your mom will come home?”

She winced. “She’s usually gone most of the night, but, what if she does? Can they tell her something’s going on?”

He was quiet for a moment. “It’s possible, but I’m not worried. If she does, we deal with it.”

She deleted the phone number from her outgoing call list and opened the book. Flipping toward the back, about three-quarters of the way, she let her eyes fall on the page. Just as having E.C.’s number in her cell phone was too risky, this book would be the nail in her coffin. If
caught, she winced, then sighed. But then, after tonight, it wouldn’t matter. Concentrate on this.

The words in the book sank in, relaxing her. She breathed them in and exhaled them out over and over and over, wanting the moment to last. Reassurance wrapped around her like the warm breeze and the fading daylight. She was ready.

Her smile at seeing them approach in the glow of the streetlights consumed her whole being. She smiled more in the last few months than she had in years, sometimes it bothered her, but this was her new family from this point forward. The moment was catching up with her,
her heart raced, the adrenaline pumping through her veins, bringing with it uncertainty and excitement.

“There’s our girl.” E.C. smiled, pushing his nappy blond curls out of his eyes and pulling them through an elastic band.

E.C. Hayes was two years older than Celisa. His clean appearance resembled more Cain’s style than Celisa and she wondered if, in a different life, they could have been friends. He had the sturdy, athletic build of a basketball player, and his easy-going nature reminded her of
how Cain used to be until their mother began grooming him for a leadership position in her church.

Now, Cain no longer laughed at her dry jokes nor talked to her about her life. She couldn’t remember the last time they went to the movies or the last time he helped her with calculus. Cain was so serious all the time, studying, praying, and learning. Her mother, fortunately, had not attempted to groom her for anything. Celisa decided the black clothes and sarcastic attitude had served its purpose. Maybe tonight, she could help Cain remember how he used to be when he was fun and spirited.

Her stomach twisted and knotted. Blood drained from her face, replaced by a chill. This morning’s muffin and soda burned the base of her throat. She closed her eyes and clamped her lips together.

“I feel sick.” She opened her eyes.

“I used to puke before these moments.” Ty’s gruff voice held no sympathy. Blunt and to the point. That was Ty.

She smiled. Ty Wilson had the build and muscle of an entire defensive line. Puking didn’t fit with his aloof confidence. She always felt safer around Ty, although it was a superficial security. Her real strength and protection were in the one who couldn’t be seen, only felt. Her best suit of armor, unshakable faith teamed with new authority. Celisa looked up at E.C. The sparkle in his green eyes turned fiery.

“Things could get ugly fast. If it gets out of hand, I’ll take over. I won’t say a word until I need to, and if that happens, you close your mouth and pray.”

She nodded. “Can we do that now, as a group?”

Ty nodded and she conceded authority, at least for the moment, to him. She loved to hear Ty’s baritone voice when he prayed. He wasn’t nearly as blunt with his Father as he was with his brothers and sisters, but his voice was sure and soothing.

Celisa paused at the front door and stood taller, drawing her shoulders back. Grasping the doorknob, she opened the door. Ty’s simple prayer made the hair on the back of her neck stand at attention. A strong wind gusted past them whisking away her nausea and uncertainty. Cain came out of the bedroom and both siblings froze at the sight of each other.

Celisa wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, or if everything E.C. had told her was coming to pass, but Cain’s eyes looked red and menacing, ready for a fight. He glared at E.C. and then faced Celisa.

His eyes narrowed and the room chilled. “You didn’t! I know these guys- they’re liars. You can’t believe them.”

“They aren’t liars. They helped me see the truth. Cain, listen to me.”

Let him listen.

“You!” Cain roared like sheet metal rattling angrily in a storm.

Celisa jumped back. It was not Cain’s voice.

“Who are you?”

“I don’t have to tell you!” the voice hissed.

“Yes, you do!” she focused hard on her brother as E.C. and Ty moved away from her.

“You have no authority in this house!” he growled.

“I have authority over you, in this house, outside this house, and anywhere else, now what’s your name? In the name of Christ “

The demon howled, a shrieking, painful pierce that ripped through Celisa’s eardrums, but she didn’t flinch. She didn’t blink.

“Cusion! Don’t say that name again.”

“How many of you are there?”

“More than you can count.”

Her brother’s body paced back and forth, never coming closer to her. His body twitched, shaking in little tremors – small groans escaping his lips. E.C. and Ty stood at opposite ends, watching with cold, hard glares of warriors waiting for the command. The miniscule living room felt like it was shrinking. Tension weighed in the air. Celisa tried to find the reassurance she heard earlier. You will not leave me nor forsake me. You are my shield, my strength.

“How many?”

“Three.”

“Who are the others?”

“Rahu and Pyro.” The voice, now high-pitched and raspy- – like the brakes of a train trying vainly to stop.

“Rahu,” she ordered. He gave his disciples, He gave me, power and all authority over all demons. Don’t ask for deliverance, just claim it. Be tough. What was that verse? Luke, Luke something. Ten, eighteen. He gave Me authority over the enemy.

“Leave,” Celisa commanded with more authority than she thought possible.

The air chilled further and a cold wind bit her entire body.

It left. Her eyes darted in the direction the wind had blown. Thank you, Lord. But something caught her attention, the sound of singing, and Celisa looked toward Cain’s room. He’s here, who’s –

His weight crushed her against the floor. She never saw him pounce. His hands wrapped around her throat stopping her scream before it left her mouth. Celisa grasped his hands, struggling for freedom and air.

“You are going to die!” his hands constricted around her throat.

Ty leapt at Cain, lifting him, but he didn’t loosen his grip on Celisa. Her gasping body hung as she clawed around, hoping to free herself.

Celisa gasped for breath – dull pain spreading from her throat to her head.

Cain’s vice grip tightened; she struggled, her feet off the floor, trying to pry his fingers away to no avail.

 You are in control, Lord. He has nothing on you. Break his grip. I didn’t
mean to fail.

Be still and know that I am Lord.

She stopped.

The pressure exploded in her head, but she didn’t move.

E.C. moved deliberately, with no rush. Ty had Cain in a modified Nelson hold. Celisa squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to stop them from popping out of the sockets. Cain was half the size of Ty, but Ty couldn’t break his hold on Celisa. Ty’s eyes trained on the back of Cain’s head. She could hear him praying but couldn’t make out the words.

“Let her go, now,” E.C. said, his voice quiet, but frigid. Celisa hit the floor with a thud and gasped for breath as she dragged herself out of the way. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. Awesome, mighty Master, Creator, I don’t want him to stay here. He’ll die. He can serve you. Desperation took over, strangling her prayer.

“Rahu.” E.C. tilted his head up slightly in a show of power. “She’s ours. Christ pulled her off the altar your mother sacrificed you two on. She only wants to pull you off, too.”

“Mother will hunt her down and kill her.”

“Your mother has no more power than you do. We are the brothers and sisters of Christ and neither the angels nor the vile and stupid demons can touch us.”

“You don’t know our power.”

“I don’t need to know your power. I know my power, my authority, given to me by my Father in Heaven, who created you. Don’t talk to me about power.”

“What are you going to do to me?” the raspy voice faltered.

“Get out and return to your pit, Cusion!”

Cain’s body went limp and Ty dropped him onto the floor before going to Celisa. She rubbed her throat, her breathing labored. Ty rubbed her back until she bolted up, staring at her brother.

“Is he okay?” She pushed Ty’s hand away from her and crawled to her brother.

“He should be,” E.C. said. “We can take him with us. But cleansing him won’t do any good if he’s not ready to come to Christ.”

She gingerly turned Cain’s body over and touched his face, her black fingernails tracing down his cheek and around his chin. Cain opened his eyes. They were clear and focused, but lifeless.

“What did you do?” he asked, his voice weak.

“You had demons,” she whispered. “We got rid of them.”

He groaned. Not from physical pain, but from mental anguish radiating from him. “They were from Mom. You have them too.”

“No, mine were cast out months ago, when I came to know Christ.”

Cain winced, agony etched over his face. “When?”

“Months ago – at school. I met E.C. and Ty in my literature class and they showed me. All the anger and fear, they were demons. They are gone. I’m free now and I like it.”

“Mom is going to kill you,” he whispered. “The coven -”

“I’m not scared anymore,” she said. “You have to come with us.”

He shook his head.

 “No.” Reaching up, he stroked her face with his hand. “You go. I won’t tell Mom anything, but this is where I want to be.”

She jerked away as if it burned. “Cain, he lies to you. You can’t believe him. He is the father of lies.”

“No, Celisa. He’s going to make me great. He was going to do awesome things for you too and you’ve betrayed him.” Cain’s eyes narrowed. “You need to go. Mom will be home soon.”

The high-pitched whine of her mother’s car drew Celisa’s stare to the window. We need more time, Father. Please.

“Celisa,” E.C. said. She faced him, hoping he could see the pleading in her eyes, she had no words to express it. He shook his head. She knew the dangers of facing her mother. Celisa didn’t doubt her God was more powerful, but right now, her faith struggled. Staying would be foolish, even deadly.

They hurried out the door and around the corner, down the road to the empty house, and piled into EC’s car.

“He’s going to die.” Sobs racked her body, watching her mother’s car pull into the driveway. “We left him to die.”

Ty put his strong arms around her and let her cry on his already damp shirt. She forced the tears back and watched the buildings blur past her. She didn’t ask where they were going. E.C. said earlier they had safe places – bathed in prayer and claimed for their service- – where she could rest. Exhaustion weighed over her like a heavy coat in the summer.

“You’re drained,” he said quietly. “It’s normal. The first time I slept eighteen hours, woke up long enough to eat, and slept another six. The harder the battle, the more it gets you. Some are easy, weak demons, willing souls. But most put up a fight. You’ll be safe.”

“I don’t care about that. “We have to get him out of there. He’s been
brainwashed, but we can help him.”

Black eyeliner ran down her face. Brushing the side of her hand underneath her eyes, Celisa wiped the grayish-black makeup on her skirt. How could he not understand, Lord? Where did I mess up?

“Why wouldn’t he come?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”

“Celisa, it was his choice,” E.C.’s voice was soft, but she didn’t find it reassuring. “We’ve only been given power over demons, not humans. That’s the fair balance.”