The Exorcist

    'You and Regan?"

    "You and us, my good friend," croaked the demon. "You and us." And from deep in that throat, muffled laughter.

    Karras stared. At the back of his neck, he felt hands. Icy cold. Lightly touching. And then gone. Caused by fear, he concluded. Fear.

    Fear of what?

    "Yes, you'll join our little family, Karras. You see, the trouble with signs in the sky, my dear morsel, is that once having seen them, one has no excuse. Have you noticed how few miracles one hears about lately? Not our fault, Karras. Don't blame us. We try!"

    Karras jerked around his head at a loud, sudden banging. A bureau drawer had popped open, sliding out its entire length. He felt a quick-rising thrill as he watched it abruptly bang shut. There it is! And then as suddenly, the emotion dropped away like a rotted chunk of bark from a tree: Psychokinesis. Karras heard chuckling. He glanced back to Regan.

    "How pleasant to chat with you, Karras," said the demon, gri

    "You did that? You made the dresser drawer move just now?"

    The demon wasn't listening. It had glanced toward the door, toward the sound of someone rapidly approaching down the hall, and now its features turned to those of the other personality. "Damned butchering bastard!" it shrieked in the hoarse, British-accented voice. "Cunting Hun!"

    Through the door came Karl, moving swiftly with the tape recorder, setting it down by the bed, eyes averted, and then quickly retreating from the room.

    "Out, Himmler! Out of my sight! Go and visit your club-footed daughter! Bring her sauerkraut! Sauerkraut and heroin, Thorndike! She will love it! She will---"

    Gone. Karl was gone. And now abruptly the thing within Regan was cordial, watching Karras as the priest quickly set up the tape recorder; looked for an outlet; plugged it in; threaded tape.

    "Oh, yes, hullo hullo hullo. What's up?" it said happily. "Are we going to record something, Padre? How fun! Oh, I do love to playact, you know! Oh, immensely!"

    "I'm Damien Karras," said the priest as he worked. "And who are you?"

    "Are you asking for my credits now, ducks? Damned cheeky of you, wouldn't you say?" It giggled. "I was Puck in the junior class play." It glanced around. "Where's a drink, incidentally? I'm parched."

    The priest placed the microphone gently on the nightstand.

    "If you'll tell me your name, I'll try to find one."

    "Yes, of course," it responded with a cackle of amusement. "And then drink it yourself, I suppose."

    As he pushed the RECORD button, Karras answered, "Tell me your name."

    "Fucking plunderer!" it rasped.

    And then promptly disappeared and was replaced by the demon. "And what are we doing now, Karras? Recording our little discussion?"

    Karras straightened. Stared. Then he pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat dawn. "Do you mind?" he responded.

    "Not at all," croaked the demon. "I have always rather liked infernal engines."

    Abruptly a strong, new stench assailed Karras. It was an odor like...

    "Sauerkraut, Karras. Have you noticed?"

    It does smell like sauerkraut, the Jesuit marveled. It seemed to be emanating from the bed. From Regan's body. Then it was gone, replaced by the putrid stench of before. Karras frowned. Did I imagine it? Autosuggestion? He thought of the holy water. Now? No, save it. Get more of the speech pattern. "To whom was I speaking before?" he asked.

    "Merely one of the family, Karras."

    "A demon?"

    "You give too much credit."

    "How so?"

    "The word 'demon' means 'wise one.' He is stupid."

    The Jesuit grew taut. "In what language does 'demon' mean 'wise one'?"

    "In Greek."

    "You speak Greek?"

    "Very fluently."

    One of the signs! Karras thought with excitement. Speaking in an unknown tongue! It was more than he'd hoped for. "Pos egnokas hoti presbyteros eimi?" he quickly inquired in classical Greek.

    "I am not in the mood, Karras."

    "Oh. Then you ca

    "I am not in the mood!"

    Disappointment. Karras brooded., "You made the dresser drawer come sliding out?" He inquired.

    "Most assuredly."

    "Very impressive." Karras nodded. "You're certainly a very, very power demon."

    "I am."

    "I was wondering if you'd do it again."

    "Yes, in time."

    "Do it now, please---I would really like to see it."

    "In time."

    "Why not now?"

    "We must give you some reason for doubt," it croaked. "Some. Just enough to assure the final outcome." It put back its head in a chuckle of malice. "How novel to attack through the truth! Ah, what joy!"

    Icy hands lightly touching at his neck. Karras stared. Why the fear again? Fear? Was it fear?

    "No, not fear," said the demon. It was gri

    Hands gone now. Karras frowned. Felt new wonder. Chipped it down. Telepathic. Or is she? Find out. Find out now. "Can you tell me what I'm thinking right now?"

    "Your thoughts are too dull to entertain."

    "Then you can't read my mind."

    "You may have it as you wish... as you wish."