Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Two nights later, on the opposite side of the lake where the murder of the couple happened, three high school kids, two girls and one guy, are hanging out, smoking weed, and drinking beer. One girl, Rebecca, has a hand-held video camera with a light on it. They were laughing and throwing the empty beer cans into the still water. The night was calm and quiet.
“Where did you get this shit, man?” Says Rebecca, pointing he camera at the other girl.
“Dude, my dad is a cop and he gets some of the craziest shit from arrests.” Says the other girl, Haley,” Hey, Adam, why are you so quiet, dude?”
Adam, a lanky kid with gauges in his ears, just looks at her without saying anything.
“Adam gets really quiet when he’s stoned, Haley.” Rebecca tells her, “Right, Adam?”
He just looks at her and barely gives a nod. She reaches her hand to his and hold hands. The night’s silence is broken by the sound of Haley’s phone going off. She digs into her pocket and pulls it out.
“Shit, it’s my whore of a step-mother.” Haley says bitterly. “I’ll be back guys.”
She gets up and leaves while answering the phone. Adam and Rebecca remain where they are sitting with the camera still rolling. Adam takes a hit of the joint he is holding. Rebecca turns the camera around to her.
“This is Rebecca Silver here, chillin’ with mi amigo, Adam.” She turns the camera to Adam, “Say hi, Adam.”
Adam looks at the camera and exhales a lungful of smoke into the lens.
“Isn’t he super cute?” She says with giggle, “Hey, Adam! Do that thing we do for the camera.”
Adam takes a long drag from the joint and leans in close to Rebecca. Their mouths are separated by only about an inch. He exhales the smoke in a steady stream while she inhales it all. She lets go of the smoke after a good second and smiles at him. Then they move in close to each other and kiss. Slow and sensual. He starts to move his hand over her body, finding he breasts and groping them softly. Suddenly, the wind picks up, blowing hard at them. The camera picks up the sound of the wind. It’s so strong that Adam and Rebecca break apart and look around.
“Da fuck?” Adam says gently.
Suddenly, Rebecca grabs Adam’s collar and looks wide eye past the camera. Adma follows her line of sight and jumps. She spins the camera around hastily and points it at a shadow figure standing in the lake, looking right at them.
“Who’s that?” She half yells, “Is this some joke?”
The figure just stands there and stares. Seconds go by without anything happening. The camera is picking up the heavy, scared breathing of Rebecca. Adam jumps down to the sand. The figure focuses on him. Adam walks to the water line. The camera has Adam in the light, but the figure is still silhouetted.
“What’s you problem, dude?” Adam says angrily, “Go bother someone else, you faggot.”
Nothing happens. There is no reaction.
“Adam?” Rebecca says frighten.
He turns to face her. The figure, with lightning speed, grabs Adam, picks him up, slams him into the water, leaves him, and stomps quickly towards a screaming and shaking Rebecca. The camera gets thrown away and it slams into the sand. It continues to record the water line gently rolling back and forth. It was silent and calm.
Two hours later, a tired Maggie arrives on the scene. Sgt. Green walks up to her.
“We got a positive ID on the victims.” He informs her.
“Who called it in?” Maggie asks.
“The girl who IDed them, Haley Wallow. The three of them were together, getting drunk and high.”
“Did she see what happened?” She asks.
“No, she was on the phone and walked away.” He says, “But there is a video camera.”
“Did it record the attack?” She says excitedly.
“The initial attack, yes. The actual murder, no.” He says.
“Show me.”
Five minutes later, Maggie has watched the attack. She watches it three more times. Something was wrong.
“Try to get your guys to enhance the video, send me a copy, and get a still of the attacker.” She demands.
“On it.” Says Green.
“Did you inform the families yet?”
“We sent out a couple of officers to bring them down to the morgue.” He replies.
“Good.” She says, satisfied with the response.
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out David Summerland’s card. She flips it over and stares at it. She gives up and dials the number on the card from her cell. It was 5am, she thought he would never pick up.
“Hello?” Says David, as if he had been waiting for the call.
“Mr. Summerland, its Detective Williams.” She says into the phone.
“It’s Detective Summerland.” He replies.
“Right.”
“Where?” He asks.
“Opposite side of the lake.” She tells him.
“Meet me in my office in 15.” He says and then hangs up.
She looks at her phone, not sure whether to be pissed at him for hanging up on her, or admiring his enthusiasm.
20 minutes later, she pulls up to David’s office. She parks in front of the store front and walks to the door. He opens the door for her before she could get there. She walks in past him. There was a fresh mug of coffee for her exactly where she left her mug before. He sits down across from her. He was buzzing with energy.
“What happened?” He asks.
“Male and female found drowned.” She says, “But we have a video of the initial attack.”
“You caught it on video?” He asks excitedly, a smile coming across his face.
“Yeah, lucky break.”
“But you still called me?”
“Something’s wrong with it.” She says, “I can’t explain it.”
“You brought a copy of it?” He asks.
“I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this.” She says in disbelief that she was sitting across from him.
“But you brought it.”
“Yeah…” She says with a sigh, pulling out a flash drive, “But let’s get something clear: you’re just a consultant on this. You’re a civilian who happens to know a little bit more about strange things than I do.”
“I’m way too interested to fight you on this.” He says with a smile.
“Are you going to charge the police department?” she asks.
“I’m fully booked right now, so let’s just call it a favor.” He says.
“Okay…” she says.
She hands him the flash drive. He takes it and looks at it on his computer. He watches ot through once, then a second time without volume, and then a third time with volume. He sits quietly for a little. Maggie watches him, without saying anything.
“I have a theory.” He says quietly.
“About the couples?” She asks.
“Yes.”
“How did you know?” she asks him.
“Honestly, it was a lucky guess.” He explains, “A gut feeling, really. It’s a key part of the original curse. The colonial man and the Indian woman met at the lake, her husband kills the colonial man at the lake, and then curses his wife and the lake. He was jealous, heartbroken, angry. Add all of that negative energy together, it can turn into an entity or demon if you will. But…”
“But what?” she asks.
“For this to suddenly happen, you would need a catalyst.” David says quietly, “We just need to know what started this all.”
“So is it Native American?” Maggie asks.
“Of course! An entity this strong can only be Native American. They have some of the strongest and most pure energy in the world.”
“So how do we stop it?” She asks.
“I’ll get started on researching on how to perform an exorcist on a Native American spirit.” He says, “Can you check out any unrelated incidents or deaths around the lake in the last 3 months?”
“What would I be looking for?” She asks David.
“Anything dark, nasty, violent, or creepy.” He replies.
“That narrows it down…” she says sarcastically.
David begins going through a filing cabinet to begin his research, as if Maggie was no longer there. She watched him for a bit, wondering why he is doing this kind of work. She shakes her. She has her own work to do. She leaves the office and heads back to base to begin the research.
At police headquarters, Maggie starts to see what traumatic events has happened around the lake in the last three months. She nearly spits out her coffee to see how many events went on. From drugs to vandalism, rapes to murders, every type of crime has happened around the lake. It seemed to her that there may actually be a black cloud that hangs over the lake, bringing negative events to it. She starts to go through each case, trying to find a link.
After hours of looking, she finds something. It was a suicide two months ago. A 19 year-old male, named Sal Montgomery, was found. Gunshot to the head, deep lacerations down his arms. According to the mother, Sal’s girlfriend passed away six months prior to his suicide. In winter, the girlfriend fell through the thin ice and drowned. Her body was never found. Sal was devastated, feeling cheated and vengeful; found his way into black magic and the supernatural to try to bring his girlfriend back from the dead. The scene of his death was an abandoned shack at the edge of the lake. The incantation that he performed required a pentagram drawn in fresh blood, which is why he cut himself. It also required him calling on the spirits to send the one he lost back. Apparently, it didn’t work. He got frustrated and ended his life. His body was found three days later, after his mother filed a missing persons report. No suicide note was found. The address of the shack was recorded, the instructions of the incantation are still in evidence, the name of the detective in charge was recorded, which he signed off on everything.
Maggie reached for her phone and called David. He didn’t answer. She called the detective that was in charge of the Montgomery suicide investigation, Detective Paul Hullihan. He answers his phone on the third ring with a cheery voice and he addresses Maggie by her first name.
“Can you tell me about the Montgomery suicide?” Maggie asks Paul over the phone.
“Oh, can I ever!” He says with a deflating manner, “I wish I can forget about it to be honest.”
“I saw there was a pentagram out of blood.”
“That was messed up.” He says with a sigh, “Just the smell in the damn shack was enough to make you have nightmare.”
“Did you get nightmares?” She asks.
“Still do.” He says, “Maggie, listen. Something is wrong with that place and that case. Every time I think about that place I get sick to my stomach.”
“Sorry to bring up then, Paul.” She says with sincerity.
“It’s okay, Maggie.” He says with a sigh, as if talking about was hurtful, “Just do me a favor: don’t go there. At least don’t go by yourself. You know I’m the type of guy to never back down from anything and I won’t even go back to that shack. Never again.”
They end the conversation soon after and say goodbye. However, she was left with a nagging feeling that this may be the place. Her phone rings. She answers halfway through the second ring. It was David.
“I found what you were looking for.” She says, filling him in on the details.
“Hmm…” He says thinking about what she told him, “Want to check it out?”
“Yeah.” She says without hesitation.
“Pick me up at my office and bring a copy of the suicide case with you.” He tells her.
“Got it.” She says, making her way to hang up, “David, wait.”
“Yeah?” He responds.
“Where were you when I called before?” She asks.
“I was following up on something.” He says, “And getting supplies.”
20 minutes later David was in Maggie’s car heading to the shack. She doesn’t question the large, black tactical bag in David’s lap. It was not that long of a car ride. Calling the location a shack was an understatement. It was wooden frame that was barely standing. It has white, peeling paint on the outside walls, moss on the shingles, and an overall dilapidated look to it. They both get out of the car. Maggie starts to walk to the car.
“Stop.” David says suddenly.
Maggie stops dead and turns on her heel towards David. He is standing there, not too far away from the car with both hands out by his chest, palms outward, as if he was pressed up against an invisible wall. It was deafeningly quiet. He takes a deep breath in and slowly release it. His breath appears as if it was bitter cold out.
“Don’t you feel that?” He asks softly.
“No.” She says flatly.
He shakes his head at her and begins to walk towards the shack with the bag slung over his shoulder. They enter the shack cautiously. There was no longer blood or a pentagram inside. The light from outside penetrates the darkness of the shack through holes in the ceiling. It smelt horrible inside the shack and had a creepy feeling to it. Maggie covers her mouth and nose with her hand and tries to filter the smell. David doesn’t seem to mind.
“What is that smell?” She asks through her hand.
“Blood.” He rpelies, “The kid’s blood was probably absorbed into the wood after he killed himself.”
“So what are we going to do now?” She asks.
“Well,” He says taking his bag off his shoulder, “We can try this.”
He takes out a braid of tobacco from the bag along with a plastic lighter. He starts to burn the tobacco braid and swings it gently from side to side, to spread the smoke.
“So you’re killing the smell of blood with the smell of tobacco?” Maggie says, questioning David.
“No.” David begins, “Well, I guess that is another plus side to it. Because we determined that this is a Native American curse, there are steps to lift it. Tobacco is one of those steps. Burning pure tobacco is an offering of peace to the spirits. Native Americans smoke tobacco with a communal pipe before meetings to promote peace. It’s also used to calm the spirits around them.”
“That’s so strange…but oddly sweet.” Maggie says, disbelieving her own words.
He finishes filling the shack with tobacco smoke.
“We have to do the outside as well.” David says.
She gets the door for him as David gently sways the tobacco braid back and forth. The braid is halfway gone as he circles the shack. He does three loops of the shack before heading to the water’s edge with the remaining tobacco. He gently tosses the braid into the lake and watches it float away. He turns his back and starts to head back to the shack where Maggie is watching him. A strong wind picks up from the lake and hits her in the face and whips at David’s back. Maggie brushes her hair from her eyes and looks back at David and the lake.
“David!” She screams.
He turns around to see the dark entity standing in the water holding the remains of the tobacco braid at head level. The braid, wet from the water, starts to smoke furiously, and suddenly bursts into flames. The figure doesn’t move, but stares straight at David. The smoke from the braid engulfs the entity. The same strong wind blows across the lake clearing the smoke away, revealing that the figure was gone. David was pale and sweating. He turns rigidly back to Maggie and the shack. Maggie was in the same state as David, but with her gun drawn, pointing to where the entity was standing.
“What the hell was that?” she shouts.
David doesn’t say anything. He walks into the shack and grab his bag. He comes out, walks past Maggie and gets into the car. Maggie holsters her weapon and runs into the car and peels out. She is driving fast.
“What the hell was that, David?” she asks again, but calmer.
“A warning.” He replies quietly.
“A warning for what?” She asks.
“Us interfering? I don’t know!” He snaps, “I don’t have all the answers. Never have I come across something like this.”
“But, that’s our spirit right?” she asks shakily.
“Of course it is!” He snaps at her.
He buries his face in his hands. The car goes quiet for a bit.
“Sorry,” He says, “I’m just a little freaked out right now.”
“Me too…” Maggie replies quietly.
They drive in silence for a while more.
“Pull over here.” David says.
“The bar?” Maggie asks.
“I need a drink.” He replies.
Without saying anything else, Maggie pulls into the bar’s parking lot. They go inside and grab a booth. The bar was empty, but open for the Happy hour rush. They sit quietly as they drink their pints of beer. Maggie breaks the silence.
“So,” She starts, “why did you quit the FBI?”
“I had an experience.” He says flatly.
“Similar to this?” She asks.
“Similar.”
“What happened?”
He drums his fingers on the tabletop and looks at her questioningly. After a long second, he sighs.
“I was on a case,” he begins, “double homicide, bodies dumped across state lines along the railroad. If that wasn’t enough to get the case passed to the FBI, it was also a subsection of a mob family in the city. Me and my partner followed the murderer to an abandoned railway station. Let’s just say that the perp wasn’t the only one there.”
He took a long pull from his beer. He continues.
“Apprehending him wasn’t hard. He was asleep with the help of sleeping pills and whiskey. However, we heard voices and footsteps, which we decided to check out. We split up, my partner and I, to try to find who was running around. I thought we were going to find teenagers, but I was wrong. I stumbled upon a satanic ritual site. Later on, I found out that it was portal, or open door to the spirit world. It’s a place where spirits and demons can cross over from their world to ours without resistance. I was attacked there. This dark entity came at me, scratched me all over. I was yelling in pain and out of fear. My partner came running to see me flailing around with no attacker, but bleeding all over. He got me out of there. I went home that night to see what happened to me, but I didn’t know the spirit followed me. I was constantly attacked in my own home. I lost my girlfriend of three years because of it. So, one day, I had enough. I researched what needed to be done. After a gruesome fight, I won. However, through my research, I found others like me struggling with malicious entities. So I quit the FBI and started doing private detective work.”
Maggie sits there quietly for a bit, absorbing what he had just said.
“What?” He asks her.
“I thought your story was going to be completely different.” She says laughing.
He stares at her seriously, but cracks a smile.
“Yeah, maybe I need a darker story.” David says with a smile.
“Yeah, like your girlfriend was killed by a demon and this is you taking justice in your own hands.” She says laughing.
“I’m guessing you were a comic book geek.” He says with a smile.
“My ex was…” She says, her mood trailing off.
“How long ago did you break up?” He asks.
“Three months ago.” She says, “He was sleeping with someone else.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” David said sincerely.
“It’s okay.” She says, “I didn’t really have time for a relationship anyway.”
They let that conversation die and just sit quietly drinking their beer.
“So,” David begins again, “why don’t you go by Maggie?”
“Who says I don’t?” She replies.
“I do. Don’t make me breakdown how I came to that conclusion.” He says.
“Williams is just easier.” She says in a sigh, “No one wants to talk to a female officer. Williams is just more masculine sounding.”
“Do you like it?” He asks.
“No, but my closer friends call me Maggie.”
“Can I call you Maggie?” He asks.
“Are you my close friend?” She asks.
“We just witnessed a demonic spirit set fire to a wet bundle of tobacco, we’ve seen each other at our most vulnerable, and, to top it off, we had coffee in my nook. Nobody has coffee in my nook.”
“Well, I guess you can call my Maggie because of the whole nook part,” she says laughing, “It’s only fair since I do call you David.”
“I would prefer detective.” He says.
“And I would prefer…” She trails off, thinking of a comeback.
“You were going for a wishing our joke, weren’t you?” He says with a smile.
“Yes…” she says embarrassed, “Shut up.”
He just smiles and finishes his beer.
“So what’s our next move?” Maggie asks.
“We wait.” He says.
“That’s it?” she asks.
“Well, I’m going to do some additional research to find a better curse breaker.” He explains, “You can look up what keeps drawing this guy up.”
“I thought it was the couple thing?” She says.
“It has to be something a little bit more.” He explains, “Like a couple can go down and have a fight, or they can get intimate. I don’t know.”
“So you want me to dig into the victim’s history?”
“Yes.”
“I’m so glad you’re in charge here…” she says sarcastically.
“I’ve always been top dog on cases. Don’t take it personally.” He says.
“Uh-huh…” she replies.
They leave the bar and get to work. After hours of digging and family interviews, Maggie shows up at David’s office. She walks in on him imitating a Native American tribal dance. She crosses her arms and stares at him in disbelief.
“This is research?” she asks coldly.
“Yes.” He replies.
“This is doing research?” she says again.
“Part of it.” He pauses his video, “Native Americans ward off spirits with tribal dances and drums. Finding the right dance and beat is going to help.”
“Okay.”
“What did you find?” He asks.
“The teenage couple dated for six months,” she begins, “Parents on both sides were not happy with them, but they had to admit that they were in love. The couple in their 30’s never met before that night. They were at a wedding, getting chatty and drunk. The last anyone saw of them was them making out in a corner, getting ready to go.”
“So is it intimacy or lust?” He asks.
“They’re dead, I can’t ask them.” She replies.
“Hmm…” he begins to think.
“What?” she asks.
“There’s two different dances, depending on what draws it.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Two different energies. Ever had a one night stand?”
“Yes…” she says, a little embarrassed.
“That rush you get, followed by a somewhat empty feeling?”
“Don’t remind me.” She says flatly.
“Now what’s the feeling when you’re being intimate?” he asks.
“Like you are a perfect match.” She answers, “Like you were meant for each other.”
“Different feelings, different energies.” David says.
“But what about the young couple?” Maggie asks.
“They’re young. They’re just fucking.” He says bluntly.
“Good point.” She says with a smile, “But how do we find out if you’re correct?”
“We get lucky?” David responds, shrugging his shoulders.
