Paimon [Part 4-Final]

It was a dark and fleeting voice in his ears, which chilled him to his core, whispering the name over and over again. “Paimon... Paimon…. Paimon…” he spun around in his chair, expecting to find someone there, but to his surprise, no one was there. He glared at the empty space behind him; he couldn’t help but let his hand rest on his SIG P226 DAO, which was holstered on his hip, for a moment.

James sat back in his chair, “Jeez, I gotta start going to bed earlier.” He said with an uneasy smile.
He spun his chair back to the computer screen and stared at it for brief second, when he got an idea. He opened the web browser, and went to Google, and typed Paimon, into the search bar and hit ‘I’m Feeling Lucky’.

As soon as he clicked the button, the computer shut down and, the electricity in the whole building went out. He could hear the other policemen in other rooms scrambling about. Luckily James kept a flash light in his desk for emergencies.

He slowly reached out for his drawer handle, he pulled it open and grabbed out the flashlight. He flicked the ‘on’ switch, and light illuminated the dark, empty room. James had not realized he was the only on in the room. An eerie feeling ran up his spine, as he heard a skittering noise behind. He spun on his heel quickly shining the light in the area while at the same time drawing his pistol. Nothing shown in his light as he stood poised for attack. He looked around anxiously wondering why the emergency lights had not yet come on, he was still afraid to be alone in the dark.

“A rat.” He said trying to reassure himself as he turned, back around and headed for the door, but before he could take more than two steps, the fleeting voice returned to his ear, barely louder than before.

“Paaaimon... The… Elegant…..” James turned quick with a startled yelp. He lifted his gun again trying fervently to find the voice. “Who the hell is that?” he yelled out as he jumped and turned again.

“… King……Paimon…” the voice continued into his ear.
James became frantic and ran to the door to find it locked. He threw his body at the door over and over but it would not budge.

“Paimon…holds... dominion…”

James looked around panicked again, his flash light stopping on his cell phone sitting atop his desk next to his small radio. He ran to grab it. As soon as he flipped it open, the radio turned on blaring Robert Johnson’s “Me And The Devil Blues.” James let out a panicked scream causing his phone to fall from his hands; he quickly dropped to his knees to retrieve it. He started dialing desperately but nothing happened. His phone was on but when he pressed a button it didn’t respond.  “What the fuck!” he screamed as he threw the phone at the wall, it shattered as it hit. James ran back to the door and started frantically banging on it again and screaming at the top of his lungs. But it seemed like no matter how hard he tried, he could not surpass the volume of the radio. He ran to it and snatched it from the wall.

To his amazement it continued to play, he dropped the radio, and brought his hands to his head as tears began to well in his eyes. He pointed his pistol at the radio and fired four shots through it, but it did not cease its noise.

He walked backwards staring at the radio. He slumped down against the door as Robert Johnson crooned out, “Hello Satan, I believe it’s time to go.”

His flashlight began to flicker out as he held it in his hand. Tears began to fall from his face as memories came crashing back into his head of being locked in a dirty, dark room, as a child, for days naked and by himself, listening to the sounds coming from the room over, knowing his turn would
soon be next.

He couldn’t help but whimper as the room slowly began being engulfed in darkness.. Right before the last illuminating defense of the light was broken, the voice returned, sounding louder once more,

“Paimon…… Comes!”

Paimon [Part 3]

To James, the drive to Headquarters seemed to take forever. They both were silent, brooding upon the morning’s case. Neither wanted to think of anything else really, they couldn’t even if they wanted to. Neither one could remove the image of the dead little boy from their memory. Keri could tell that James was on edge. She needed to calm him down before they went into the interrogation room with the mother. They had to handle this by the book, and not let their personal feelings get in the way, or else it could ruin the whole case. She knew James had felt some strange kinship with the little boy, she hadn't been working with him for long, but she noticed something had changed in her partner.
She pulled the car over into an abandoned parking lot, of some long forgotten convenience store.

“What are we stopping for?” James asked, looking around confused. Keri put the car in park and said sternly, “We need to talk before we get to HQ.”

“Talk about what?” He asked defensively

“You know what we need to talk about James… what happened back there?”

“Nothing happened,” he said looking into her eyes. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night and that was a hard sight to see, that’s all, nothing else.”

“James, you’re my partner, which means we gotta stay connected with each other, and if you don’t want to talk right now that’s fine. But eventually you’re gonna have to tell me about it, it’s not good to keep stuff like this bottled up, so I mea-” James cut her off. “Why do you even care?” he asked rudely,

“I’m an adult, I can handle my own shit.”

Keri stared at him with a cold gaze, and snapped back, “I care because, dumb-shit rookies like you, let your feelings distract you from what's at hand, and one distraction can cost us this fucking case! Now grow the fuck up and let’s play this by the book, and don’t do anything else, understood?”  And with that she turned and started the car and pulled away.

James knew he had lashed out at her needlessly, he immediately regretted it.

“I…I’m sorry, Keri I didn’t mean what I said.” He said quietly, “I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Its fine,” She replied, “you just can’t go in there and take all your anger out on the mother, all right? If you want to avenge that kid, lets lock her ass in a hole and make damn sure that she never see’s the light of day again!”

They arrived at their headquarters a half-hour later. Keri was still quiet, where as James seemed to be much too anxious. They went walked through the big oak doors of the police station. Immediately the quiet morning was interrupted by the bustling sound of one-hundred-and-fifty working detectives. Each engaged, each obsessed, entangled in their own cases. Keri led the way, as James followed. She led them down a long corridor where all the sounds died down. They went through a door that led to a dark room with two doors in opposing corners, one was labeled ‘restroom’, and the other led into a room with a two-way-mirror. A tall, husky man was standing, in front of the mirror, staring at the oblivious woman on the other side, as he took a long deep pull on the cigarette he was smoking, when Keri and James entered.

“…Chief?” Keri sounded surprised as she stared up at the big man. Even James had to arch his neck upwards, and James was not a small man. James had only met him twice, this being the second, on account that the Chief of Police’s wife, was in a coma due to a strange new blood virus that there was no cure for.

“What are you, doin’ here? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital, with Ellen?” Keri asked with genuine concern in her voice.

“Ah, she’ll be fine for a little bit without me by her side, besides, no way I was gonna miss seein’ this treacherous cow, go down. I saw the photos of what she done to that boy. I don’t see how a woman could do that to her own kin, crazy or not he was jus’ a child. A boy that young ain’t never done nobody no harm. It’s a goddamn shame.” He said as he puffed on his cigarette.
Chief Rey Murray was born and raised in Georgia and had grew up in a rough neighborhood, joined a gang and got shot five times all before he was twenty. He had come to this small city for a new start and had surprisingly took an interest in criminal justice, he finished school and worked his way, from being in a patrol car to being chief-of-police. He had seen his fair share of murders and dead bodies and beaten children. He had even seen things close to this before. But for some reason, this one had gotten to him like none had in a great while. He was forty-eight years old, and this one bothered him just as much as when he saw his first dead body.

 “Well alright then, what has she been doing? She ask for a lawyer yet?” Keri asked as she got her business tone back in her voice.

“Nope. I doubt she got one to be honest, where she’s from not too many of ‘em do. All she keep askin’ fo’ is a glass of water, and we’ve already given her four!”

“What’s her name?”

“Marie Evans.”

James looked through the two way mirror at her. She was wearing a blood-stained, Christmas-knitted sweater with green reindeer print, on a dirty white background. Her hair was a snarly mess, and she had a wild look in her blood-shot eyes, she fidgeted constantly. Lighting a cigarette, taking a puff and putting it out in the ash tray that was melded down into the metal table, then she repeated it over again. James couldn’t help but hate her as he stared at her. He could see right through her fake façade. ‘She isn’t crazy. She knows what she had done. She was too obsessed with her own feelings to think of any one else’s. She blamed her son for ruining her life, as many of mothers have done in this generation, but she took it one step farther than most. Most would beat them or mistreat them, but they were too scared of the law to do anything more. She didn’t fear the law. She got into her head that she could play us.’ He thought with hate and disgust. When he looked into her eyes, he saw the little boy’s dead mutilated corpse. He could feel his hands trembling.

“Has anybody been in to see her yet?” James asked as he gazed through the mirror.

“No.” Chief Rey Murray replied slowly, as he took another long drag from his cigarette. Keri looked at the woman, then back at James.

“You ready, Detective Kimble?” she asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” he said as he cleared his throat. “Let’s get this done.”

 Marie jumped as Dt. Keri Lockwood and Dt. James Kimble entered the interrogation room. Both of their eyes were locked on to her, she met their eyes for a second before they darted all over the room until they stopped on her half-smoked-cigarette. She quickly scooped it out of the ash tray, with a claw like hand. She stuffed it in her mouth, and lit it dramatically. Keri sat in the chair across the table from Marie, while James stood of to the side, leaning against the wall with his arms firmly crossed over his chest. Keri sat there for a minute, studying the way Marie responded to the attention. She was obviously anxious, she wouldn’t stop moving, but she wouldn’t meet the eyes of either detective. She tried her hardest to pretend that they weren’t there at all.

“Marie Evans?” when Keri said her name, Marie’s eyes jumped up to meet Keri’s, and a huge demented smile spread over her face, displaying a row of dirty brown teeth.

“Yes? Whom may I ask is asking?” she said far too readily, like she had rehearsed it.

“My name is Detective Keri Lockwood, and this is my partner Detective James Kimble, we’re investigating the murder of your son, and we’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Oh, well, go right ahead! I’m an open book.” She said with a giggle, which she must of thought seemed cute, but came off more as troubling.

“Ok, Ms. Evans, I am obligated to inform you that it would be a good idea to have an attorney present at this time, would you like to contact one?” Keri asked

 “I don’t have no money for a lawyer.”

“We could appoint one to you if you’d like?”

“Oh no, honey, I wouldn’t dream of it!”

“All right, then.” Keri removed a portable tape recorder from her pocket. She pushed down on the record button, and set it down on the table.

“Marie Evans, please state for the record that you have chosen to waive your right to have an attorney present, and wish to proceed with the questioning.”
Marie put on a ridiculous show, she scrunched up her face and put her hand over her heart and grunted in a deep voice.

“Yes sir, I don’t want any lawyers and I want to do these questions!”
Keri and James exchanged glances before they continued. “Where were you yesterday between 4:30 p.m. and 3:00 a.m. this morning?”

“Oh I know exactly where I was! Yes I do!” she said as she nodded her head up and down. There was a silence between the three as Marie stared at the two blankly.

“Well let’s hear it!”  James raised his voice slightly

“Oh, of course!” she exclaimed, as she reached for her stub of a cigarette, and brought it to her lips. Keri couldn’t help but to notice the blood underneath her finger nails.
She lit her cigarette and blew a puff of smoke in the air and said with a whimsical smile across her face and a faraway look in her eye. “I was at home.” She took another drag of her cigarette. “I was playin’ with my baby!” She grinned insanely at the two. “We was havin’ us a good time.” She said as she cackled, and took a swift pull on her cigarette.

Keri turned and gave James a quick glance. He was barely holding it together, he had begun to clench his fists till the knuckles went white; he was sweating and grinding his teeth slowly.
Keri turned and looked back at Marie.

“Playing? You do understand that your son is dead?” Keri asked while staring at Marie trying to keep her composure.

“Oh yes, I know he’s dead. I killed him! I had to… but it was a game we had to play. I had to play… he told me to and I have to obey… no matter what I gotta obey his command…… That boy got what he deserved any way! He was always acting a fool! Never listened…never listened… I’d always tell him, one day he was gonna push me too far. I don’t have any patience for naughty children.”
The room grew quiet; James had stopped grinding his teeth and was staring at Marie profoundly. He had not expected things to go like this. He thought they would have to push her until she broke; he hadn’t prepared himself for her blunt honesty.

Keri held up her front. “Who is ‘He’ Marie?”
She smashed her cigarette into the ash tray again and clasped her hands together. “HE… is my man… no one else can see him though, I don’t hardly see him myself!” She exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around herself.

“He would whisper, what he wanted me to do in my ear… and I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to! My body did whatever he wanted me to do…” she started to laugh hysterically. “And I loved it! Oh I loved every second of it! He even told me his name! He said he never told anyone his name before, I was his special girl… he said his true name… Paimon!” She began laughing again; she threw her head back and howled with laughter. And just as suddenly, her head flew down onto the table, colliding with hard metal. Her head stayed there, her body slumped onto the table.
Both detectives began to approach her when blood started pouring from under her hair, spreading violently across the table. The two detectives rushed around the table. The door burst open as Rey Murray came crashing into the room. James carefully lifted the head of the body to reveal a giant crack that ran up her entire face and half of her skull. Blood poured out like water from a faucet, he could hardly decipher that it was once a face at all. He didn’t need to check for a pulse it was obvious that she wasn’t getting up anymore.

“Jesus-mother-fuckin’-Christ” Rey exclaimed, “What the fuck just fuckin’ happened here?”
James looked up at him, “I think she just fucking killed herself.” He couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Goddamnit, Evans right now is not the fuckin’ time to be damn comedian, this woman’s head just cracked like a fuckin’ egg! And guess what? Now we ain’t got no damn suspect!”

“We don’t need a suspect!” James exclaimed, “she already confessed we got it on tape, case closed!”

“How in the hell did she even do that?” Keri finally spoke up. “I mean… I don’t think that’s physically possible.”

There was a long silence as the three contemplated the impossible.
Finally Rey broke the silence. “I’ll get forensics up here to take a look at her, why don’t you two take the rest of the day off…. If I need you I’ll call.”

“No,” Keri interrupted, “I think I’ll stay, I want to know what the hell just happened here. James will go and try to get a lead on whoever this ‘Paimon’ is.”

“Yes, Chief.” Rey said sarcastically “Kimble go get to it. I want everything you can get on this fella, who he is, who his mama his, everything, understood?”

“Yes, Chief.” James answered as he got up to leave. He left through the door with one last glance over his shoulder at the bloody corpse of Marie Evans. ‘She got what she deserved’ he thought as he walked down the hallways and corridors leading to his desk. For the first time since he had begun this job he felt happy. Keri watched as James left the room, she was surprised at how easily he had taken what just happened. He usually didn’t cope with the dead bodies very well, truth be told, she was beginning to wonder if he could cut it in this line of work. ‘Maybe there’s hope for him after all’ she thought as the forensic team and paramedics came in.

James sat down at his desk with a smile upon his face. He couldn’t stop thinking about Marie Evans getting the justice she deserved. No matter how Keri felt, he knew the only real justice for her crime would be death. An eye for eye. Maybe Marie reminded James of his own mother, who was also abusive with him. But if you were to ask him, he would deny knowing anything about what was being said.

Even though James thought Marie Evans  got what she deserved, he still was intrigued with how she was able to kill herself in such a fashion, and who this Paimon was.
He knew that it could’ve been the ramblings of a demented, murderous, woman. But that name, it sounded strangely familiar to him. It was swimming around in the back of his mind, like a fish just about to surface, but can’t quite get all the way up.
He pushed the power button on his monitor and it came to life with a flash. He typed the name into the search bar; the screen immediately began scanning through mug shots eliminating negative results.
It took a full five minutes before it was finished. It stopped with a blinking red banner that simply said, “NO MATCH”.

He sat puzzled, he was almost certain something would’ve come up, the name sounded so familiar. He wracked his brain trying to think of who he could know by that name, or even trying to place what kind of name it was. There was no part of the world that he knew of that has ever used that name. So why was it so familiar to him? There had rarely been something worldly that he wasn’t aware of. He prided himself on being socially aware; he obtained a rare and, unique taste for politics and history something very few of his peers had. He stared blankly at the screen, when he heard a sort of rustling behind him. He quickly glanced over his shoulder to discover no one there, he lingered for a while scanning the area. He turned back to his computer screen, and once again stared blankly for a few more seconds, trying desperately to figure out some sort of solution to his problem.

That’s when he heard something. Something so faint it was nigh impossible to hear. Yet he did, it was a voice.  

Paimon [Part 2]

The next morning was a cold and dark one. Single blades of grass were trapped inside of frosty prisons. Breath was visible as it slowly crept out. The man woke with a start, his pocket was vibrating and making a jingling sound, his cellular, he had fallen asleep with it in his jeans again. He groggily dug it from his pocket.

“….Hello?” he grumbled into the phone.

 “James, we got to go.”

“Keri?”

It was his partner; she was talking with a soft tone, but still stern, apparently realizing that he must have just awoken.

“We got a scene downtown. It’s ugly, and the chief wants us both down there.”

He was tired, and the last thing he wanted was to go see another bloody crime scene. He had just made homicide two months ago and already he had had his fill of murder.The night before he had, responded to a call of domestic abuse, which had gone too far. It began as a fight over which late night show the couple would watch. The husband, who had a history of abuse, and a grocery list of personality disorders, had decided the best way to settle the argument was to open his wife’s skull with a butcher knife, and cave his six month old daughters in with a cast-iron skillet.. When the cops finally arrived, he was sitting on the couch next to his former wife’s body, watching ‘The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson’. He had made a full confession without ever stammering or even sighing. He had no remorse. They gave him the insanity plea. He’ll probably be out in five to ten. A week before that, a case involving a three year old Tabitha, her father was shot to death by her mother, who then turned the gun on herself. Tabitha was found asleep, cuddled with the bodies of her parents in their blood soaked bed. This fatal incident was the last event in a chronic pattern of domestic violence, substance abuse, and chaotic living.

He rolled over and looked at his alarm clock; it read 4:17 A.M.

“Alright, I gotta get dressed first.” He said into the phone.

“Hurry, I’m already outside your building.”

She was a good cop, and an even better partner. She had been on homicide for six years and she had become one of the most respected officers in her division. She had come from a dark past and a lot of people thought it strange the career she had chose, but nevertheless, they were thankful that she was on their side. James thought it lucky that his partner would be Keri Lockwood, she was an excellent cop and for being so young she had made a pretty big name for herself. She boasted an amazing ninety-seven percent closure rate. Just about every case she had worked led to a long term conviction, and James being fresh out of the academy would never expect to be paired up with Keri. But it would seem that fate had chosen the two together, Keri would teach James the ropes, and James gave her something to take care of. They both needed each other more than they thought.
He took a quick shower, grabbed his pack Camel No. 27’s and rushed out the door. He got into his partners car, shivering.

“Damn! It’s so cold out, isn’t this supposed to be March?” James asked with a forced smile. He was still a little nervous around her, he was never too good at talking to girls he liked, even though they told him he was very good-looking, he just didn’t see it when he looked in the mirror. Keri began telling him about the crime scene without answering him.

“We got a homicide of an African-American child, age: five.”

“We know who did it yet?” He asked as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“Everything points to the mother; she was at home, neighbor called the cops complaining of hearing screams from the downstairs apartment where the mother and child lived alone in a one bedroom flat. Uniforms are already there, they’ve arrested her as a suspect and she’s at HQ waiting to be interviewed.”

“I hope this isn’t gonna be another gruesome one, I’m sick of seeing blood.” He said as they pulled off.

“You work Homicide,” she scoffed, “it’s in the job description to see blood.” They rode in silence the rest of the way.

When they arrived there was already a crowd, and news crews, outside the apartment building they treated the yellow caution tape that bordered the building like it was a snake waving its head, poised for its strike. The two detectives exited their vehicle, and made their way up to the apartment building. They walked up the stairs leading to the door of the apartment. The officer, that was first on scene, was standing outside the door, a portly, older-than-he-thinks, looking man, with a big thick gray mustache and a gleaming bald head. Keri approached him, flashed him her badge, “Homicide,” she stated “you the first on scene?”

“Yeah, Officer O’Malley,” he sighed, as he shook both detectives hands. James noted he wouldn’t look either one of them in the eye.

“So what happened in there?” Keri pointed to the door.

“I’ve been workin’ this beat for twenty-five years, and ain’t nothin’ ever get to me like this…. This is some sick shit.” He mumbled as he wiped his eyes, “The kid’s in the bathroom all the way to the back… that… sicko went to work on him like a scene out of ‘Casino’ or somethin’.” He said in a hard voice.

“All right, thanks for your help Officer O’Malley.” Keri said to him, as she brushed passed him into the small musty apartment. James walked up to the man and put his hand on his shoulder and said, “Hey, why don’t you take off for a while... you know, go get some coffee or somethin’.” Officer McMann finally looked up and met the eyes of James. They were red and bloodshot; it was obvious he had been crying. James couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of sorrow and pity for the man, more even because he would be just as embarrassed as McMann, if he were to be in his position.

“… The things that… Bitch did to that poor kid…” he growled through gritted teeth. James patted his shoulder. “Come on, why don’t you go get a pack of smokes or somethin’ huh? Go…go catch the numbers, maybe today you’ll get it huh?” he tried to cheer the man up. “Yeah,” McMann said with a much too forced laugh, “I think will go and do that, maybe it is my day ya’ know?” James watched as the older cop walked briskly out of the building, trying to appear as though nothing was wrong but it was much too easy to tell he was troubled.

 James looked back at the door dreading going in. No matter what Keri said to him, he knew that he could never grow accustomed to seeing people in such a way. All battered and cut apart, it just wasn’t right; he was on the verge of throwing up, every time he entered a crime scene. The only thing that kept him from doing so was his devotion to his pride and to Keri, not wanting to embarrass either of them, but more so Keri.

“Kimble, get your ass in here!” he heard Keri yell through the apartment. He hinted a strange emotion in her voice he hadn’t heard before. He couldn’t quite make it out.

He rushed through the living room where there were blood stains on the carpet, along with other various objects, that were covered in blood as well, there were little yellow stands next to each that were numbered. He walked through the kitchen that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in months. There was a mountain of dishes in the sink, and the sink was filled with grimy black water, it resembled more of a swamp then, a kitchen. Mold grew on the dishes, there was a stinking heap of garbage in the corner, and the counters were caked with a strange sticky substance, the smell was horrid. James couldn’t help but think, ‘Child Services should have gotten this kid outta here a long time ago.’ He entered the bathroom, and stopped cold in his tracks. It was a horrible site, Keri stood off to the side with her arms crossed tightly around her body. She had a blank expression masked across her face, but it was her eyes that gave her away. James could tell she too was on the verge of tears, and she was pissed off. He had never seen her like this; sure he’d seen her angry, like when he stepped on a piece of evidence, or when he touched something at a crime scene without wearing gloves. But this was different.

“Observe and report.” She commanded in a cold voice.

James’ eyes scanned the room, once again, more thoroughly this time and noted.
‘Blood splatters all over the floor, walls, toilet, there were bloody hand prints on the counter of the sink, which were obviously adults. Small scratch marks from the door to the middle of the room. Looks like the boy tried to run and was caught and dragged back. He could see fragments of his finger nails. He noticed something that smelled like bleach, it was apparent that it wasn’t used for cleaning, so it must’ve been used for something else. On the counter there was a collection of grisly torture items, which appeared to be: untwined wire hangers, a hammer, rusty razorblades, a pair of shearing scissors, a lighter, a screw driver, and an ash tray with about a hundred cigarette butts inside’. The worst was yet to come. James pulled back the curtain to the bathtub.  Laid out in a heart-breaking fashion was the, unbelievably small body of the five year old boy.

He was broken and bruised, bloodied and disfigured. He was naked and lying in a pool of his own blood and urine. The boy had cuts over the entire length of his body; he had two cigarettes burned out in his eyes, which looked postpartum.  His right leg was broken in a horrible way, it had snapped completely to the right at the knee-cap. All of his fingers were either broken or cut off. He had cigarette burns in each of his eyes, and all over his face. It appeared his mother had tried to pour bleach down his throat, due to the chemical burns around the boy’s mouth. It seemed she had tried to cut out his tongue, but gave up halfway through, and left him with his tongue in half. The right side of his face was so swollen it looked like the boy had elephantitis. He had deep cuts on each sides of chest and his ribs were badly bruised.

From the amount of blood that was puddled around the boy, James assumed he died of blood loss.
As James was looking down on the boy, he was in complete shock, he had seen dead bodies of children before, but this was something different. The cruelty here was so potent; he couldn't fathom how a mother could do this to her own child, he was nothing but a baby still. His death was obviously slow and painful; she took her time with him. She made sure he felt every little bit.
He reached down and touched the body with his hand.

“God damn it James!” Keri exploded, “how many times do I have to tell you to wear fucking gloves if you’re going to touch something!”

She continued as she pulled a pair of latex gloves out of her jacket pocket, and threw them to James.
“You’re gonna ruin the damn crime scene.”

“Sorry.” He mumbled, he had touched the body to see if it was still warm.

‘When was the time of death?” He asked Keri in a broken voice. She stared at the body then and said.
“Suspected to be 3:20 A.M., neighbors reported seeing the two arrive roughly at 4:30 P.M. yesterday.”
James stood up and stared at the body of the tiny child. He tried to imagine the fear the boy must’ve felt the anguish and the pain. He stood there, over the body, obsessed with how he thought the boy felt. James started to put himself in the boys shoes, began thinking of his own mother, she torturing him. He begs her to stop, but she just makes it worse.

He had to stop, for a single tear drop welled in his eye, it rolled down his cheek, and broke off from his skin, made its way down, and crashed onto the little boys half-tongue. He couldn't stop himself from shedding more looking at the boy, all of them crash landing like airplanes on the boys face. Keri came up to him and grabbed his hand and spoke softer to him than she had ever spoken to anyone, “Come on James, let’s go get some air, come on.” He stood there trembling with rage, and empathy. Keri clasped his face into her hands and turned his face to hers, to look directly in his eyes. “James, let’s go.” She said.

He looked deep into her eyes and could see she couldn’t hold out too much longer herself.
“Yeah, ok… lets go.” James said in a gruff voice as he wiped the tears away from his eyes.  Keri led James out of the apartment passed the camera crews and the passer-bys, and she led him back to their car.

“Where are we going?” James asked with, what seemed like to Keri, a strange child-like innocence.

“We’re going to Headquarters,” she answered slowly, “It’s time we interview our suspect.”

Paimon [Part 1]

He looked up as a perfect snowflake made its way down from the sky. He jammed his tongue out of his mouth in a lewd gesture trying to catch it, and taunt the passing cars in unison. His experiment was cut short when a large hand came crashing into the back of his skull, forcing him to fall face first into dirty cigarette infested snow, dropping the groceries his mother had just bought. His mother stood over him, and glared at him in disbelief.

“Boy, you better get up, before I really hit you!”

He laid there looking up at the huge stature of his mother  with brown sludge all over his face, he could tell she was serious this time, her jaw was locked, and her eyes were burning into his, she was clenching her own bags till her knuckles went white. She gave him a swift kick deep into his ribs, sending colossal pain waves through his tiny frame.
She scanned the area anxiously for anyone who might have seen her punish the boy, as she snarled at him passed her clenched teeth.

“You bastard! You wait till we get home; I am going to beat you till you bleed! Now get up… GET UP!”

He scrambled to his feet, holding his aching side, and trying desperately to pick up the spilt food as fast as possible. He had already begun hoping that their long walk home would cool his mother’s wrath-like temper and persuade her to forget the beatings she had promised him. But he knew his hopes were in vain, she wouldn’t forget… she never did.

He didn’t always fear the beatings as much, not that he didn’t fear them at all, they still were beatings, but as of late, they had become much more than just simple punishment. He had been getting ‘punished’ as his mother called it, since as long as he could remember. He didn’t like them at all, but they didn’t cause him the same fear as these new ones. The old ones didn’t make him bleed, and there was no torment afterwards. Before, his mother would tell him why he was being punished, and tell him that she loved him no matter what.
 Now she wouldn’t say a thing, she would just smile the whole time as she beat him. And eventually she would start to incorporate new objects, such as; untwined wire hangers, extension cords, and broken pieces of wood. He had learned to fear his own mother more than anything he could ever imagine. Obedience and terror were the only things she wanted from her son anymore.

As they walked through the snow, there was not a word spoken between the two. He was too scared to even try. But that didn’t stop her from talking, every couple of seconds she say something like, “you didn’t come from me, you couldn’t have.” Or “I’ll teach you to lie to me you little bastard.

He frequently saw children in cars staring at them as they passed by; he often wished he could be one of them, maybe if his mother had a car, and a nice home, pretty clothes, and a husband maybe she wouldn’t hurt him so much.

Maybe they would be happy together again like before. And they would watch TV together and she would tuck him into bed, and read him stories, and lay with him until he fell asleep. And then when she thought he was asleep she would sneak away, but not before she would give him a kiss and whisper in his ear, “I love you”, and leave his bedroom door open just a crack because she knew that’s how he liked it.

How he wished he could be one of them. He had to stop his thoughts for fear crept back into his mind; he could see their apartment building coming into view. He began to pray, silently in his head, so as not to further add to whatever pending demise his mother had in store for him, praying harder than he had ever prayed before that, his mother would be too tired from their walk to do anything to him. But his fear was confirmed when she began to quicken her pace towards the apartments. He wanted to stop and yell and cry and scream, anything to stop his mother’s ravenous obsession, he knew better though. It was better to go along quietly; she enjoyed hearing him frightened.
 When they had finally reached the stoop to their building, his mother was taking short ragged breaths, so he knew she was tired.

“This is my chance,” he thought.

He sidled up close to her and reached out to clasp her hand into his. He looked up at her with his saddest face, only for it to be returned with a cold gaze from his stoic looking mother.

“Mama ... I’m sorry mama!” He pleaded, as tears began to fall from his eyes, “I didn’t mean to goof around again, mama really! I’m sorry ma… I love you... please don’t hit me again ma, I’m sorry.”

He knew she probably wouldn’t care, but he was scared and his back was still covered in welts form the last punishment. She stared at him, for what seemed like hours to the little boy, with a blank look masked over her face. Then finally she turned around and walked up the tall staircase that led to their door, and she was putting the key into the lock, she murmured just loud enough for him to barely make out the words.

“Not yet you’re not.”

His heart fell to his feet, and tears began to fall from his eyes again.

“Now get in here.”

He followed her whimpering into the musty apartment.