Previously on RUNNER RAMIREZ & THE RACETRACK FROM HELL…
After researching recent events surrounding Pompano Beach’s newest horse track, Runner headed to the local police station for more information concerning the town’s recent spate of mysterious deaths and disappearances. Unfortunately that station just happened to be full of hellishly corrupt officers, acolytes of a demon! After a brutal fight Runner’s just about to learn the identity of that particular demon.
And now…
Runner Ramirez & the Racetrack from Hell
By Tyler Tarlton
Chapter 8
"Azrael..." he whispered, the name steeped in terror. I had not heard that name before but my friend certainly had. The heat I felt from within increased tenfold, enough for smoke to rise from my body. I felt my right arm pull back and then swing forward with more force than I was capable of on my own. My fist smashed into the sergeant's head, cracking his skull in the process. He fell to the ground, limp and dead. At this point I was but a spectator in my own body. My arms reached down and picked up two of the dropped Billy clubs. I'll spare you the details but the other officers died shortly thereafter.
You see, even though we had worked out something resembling a deal my friend was a demon after all and really could do anything he wanted and I couldn't stop him. Now it didn't happen often but there were times he took full control. I don't think it was ever needed, his help allowed me to beat most foes, he just wanted to exorcise his rage. Something I could understand. I especially didn't mind when the objects of that range were acolytes, the worst of the worst. People that chose demon kind over humanity made no sense to me. The entire experience was quite frightening however.
Once that task was complete I stumbled out of the alley and onto the street. The coast was clear for the moment so I turned left and walked away from the police station. Once they discovered their dead comrades I knew all hell would break loose and I would be the most wanted man around. The desk officer had seen my face. That meant I had to get this case solved as quickly as possible.
"Who is Azrael?" I asked. Though he didn't always answer, my friend and I did have conversations on occasion. It looked to anyone else like I was talking to myself but there was no one around at the moment. After a few seconds the shocks started running down my spine.
"He's a bad one," the demon replied. "Wants chaos. The layout of the racetrack-"
"Psst. In here."
A voice interrupted the Morse code and drew my attention to an alcove between buildings on the left that I was passing. I couldn't see clearly but someone stood deep in the shadows.
"Yeah you, come in here."
I glanced around then turned toward the alcove. No message or warning from my 'friend' so I stepped inside. Instantly, water hit my face.
"The power of Christ compels you!"
I wiped the water from my eyes and blinked a few times so they would adjust to the low light. There was a young man, maybe 22, standing a few feet away with a crucifix in one hand and a jar of water in the other. He wore a fedora and cheap trench coat, looking like some scuzzy private eye. He wore a black shirt underneath with a white collar around his neck. A priest.
"Listen buddy, I-"
Another splash of water hit me in the face. Holy water no doubt. Classic tool of the exorcist. Demons hated that stuff. But since my 'friend' had no control over me it did nothing.
"I command you, in the name of Christ, be gone!" he shouted as he stepped forward and thrust the cross into my face. I stared at him for a moment then pushed his arm aside.
"You can stop that now," I said.
He cocked his head in confusion then straightened. He lowered his arms. A cautious smile crossed his face.
"I did it? He's gone?" he asked.
"What are you talking about?" I responded.
"I've been following you," the kid said. "At that speakeasy and back there where you killed those policemen. Well, I know it wasn't you...sir, you were possessed by a demon. You were not in control of your actions. But now he's gone. I exorcised it. You're welcome!"
I probably shouldn't have but I couldn't help but laugh. I knew of exorcists and their work of course but at that time I had never encountered one in the field. This kid looked very eager and earnest. He also looked very pumped to have sent a demon out of me. I was about to let him down.
"It's no joke," the kid said. "Those things you were able to do...not possible for a human. Only a demon could do those things."
"It's not that kid," I said as I shook my head. "I haven't been possessed. Well, not really. I do have a demon living inside of me though. He just doesn't have control. Most of the time anyway."
Now it was the kid's turn to laugh. He leaned against the wall. Shook his own head.
"Now that's rich mister," he said. "I have never heard of such a thing. Demons control, that's what they do. They get inside and take over. Period."
"Not in this case," I replied. I started to turn away when a burst of shock code hit my spine. All it said was 'offer him a partnership.' I looked off into the distance and considered that. Why would a demon want an exorcist to know his story. And why would he want to work with one? They were pretty much mortal enemies after all. I mean, priests and exorcists followed Jesus and we all know what Jesus did to demons. Then it hit me...demons wouldn't want to be anywhere near an exorcist. You see, my 'friend' is sort of an escapee from Hell. He got tired of that, um, life and ended up inside me. He's hiding. That's why he only helps out occasionally with as little extra power as possible. He's being hunted for desertion and any display of unworldly power is like a flashing beacon to these guys. But if a man of the cloth was around....I wasn't a big fan of the idea but it did make sense. I turned for the street.
"Where are you going?" the kid asked.
"To eat," I said. "Come along and I'll tell you a story.”
I walked on down the road. It didn't take long for me to hear footsteps rush to catch up. The kid fell in beside me.
"You're gonna tell me how you have a demon inside you but aren't possessed?" he asked. Off my nod he continued, "Then this I gotta hear."
A couple hours later we finished up our lunch at a corner booth in the diner. During this entire time we heard nothing from any of the locals about the scene at the police station. I imagined the rest of the force were acolytes as well and did not want anyone to know what was going on there. Several badly murdered cops would raise a lot of questions. Hold on, murdered is not the correct term. Loss of life due to self defense. That's better. Anyway, I related the story of how I came to know my 'friend' and a few of our subsequent adventures. And no, I still do not want to tell you my so-called origin story. It’s still pretty vivid in my mind, even thinking it takes me back to that day, and it still isn't that pleasant. One day I may tell you but today is not that time. The kid, whose name I learned was Reginald Fairweather, leaned back and sipped his coffee in a sort of daze. His eyes were wide but he seemed to believe what I had said. I was about to find out why.
"That's, that's crazy," he said as he sat his cup down. " But not impossible I guess. Makes sense now why the exorcism didn't work. We're kinda on the same side really."
The kid then launched into his own story. He had been a promising young priest who had decided to learn the art of exorcism due to an event that happened to him as a kid. He declined to elaborate on most of those details but the look on his face told me that it had affected him greatly. He had advanced to the level of an apprentice when he had taken it upon himself to perform an exorcism without his superior present. Things had gone south in a hurry and two people ended up dead. It really didn't sound to me like Fairweather was truly at fault in that situation but that wouldn't be the first time that organized religion and I had disagreed on an issue. Like the time this small church/cult up in New York tried to create this sinkhole to swallow their town and raise up Cthulhu or some other old-style god. That was a pretty harrowing disagreement. Anyway, back to the incident got Fairweather removed from the program and excommunicated from the Church. Undaunted, he went underground, seeking out possessed people not on the Vatican's radar, i.e. those without money or those derelicts no one cared about.
The story gave me a newfound respect for the kid; exorcisms were demanding work and that was when you had the Church's support. Fairweather stated that he had successfully performed almost a dozen exorcisms since that time without a single fatality. Sounded like hubris to me but a signal from my 'friend indicated that he was telling the truth. I guess that kind of work was discussed in certain circles.
"In all my experience and schooling I've never heard of a situation like yours," Fairweather said. "How does it feel having him in there?"
Now that was an interesting question.
Looks like Runner has himself a new friend! Just what shenanigans will this pair get into now? Find out next week in Chapter 9!