“It’s not Mary, dude,” I said to Jeremiah as he walked toward the specter of his older sister, my wife. He seemed mesmerized. I understood the allure. She looked so real. It was dark but her straight blond hair seemed to radiate the golden purity of a living Mary. Even in darkness her deep brown eyes were warm and caring. ****, maybe it was her. She had been an angel while she was alive, why couldn’t she be one now? Sa’Awen.

Trapped souls. How could my Mary be trapped? I couldn’t stop looking at her, she held me captive. She was glowing in the vast darkness around her, a soft, white luminescence reassuring and spellbinding. Everything in my field of vision, except Mary and Jeremiah, disappeared.

“It’s not Mary,” I whispered to myself. Jeremiah was closer to her, he reached his hand out to touch her shoulder.

“Jeremiah, dear brother. I’ve missed you so,” Mary crooned.

“Mary,” Jeremiah whispered as he reached a little closer to her. Gut wrenching instinct pulled me out of a rapt stupor.

“Jeremiah, no! It’s not Mary!” I screamed, but my voice was swallowed by a bigger shriek. A blazing fireball shot over our heads, tearing Jeremiah’s attention away from his phantom sister. I leapt for him, taking him to the ground. We rolled a few feet and crouched together, just in time to see the fireball erupt into a flaming, seething, demon, clad again, in the preacher’s garb. And in time to see Mary sprout horns and morph into a crouching, slobbering demon. A streak of blue light shot by us in silence. I could feel Jeremiah breathing heavily next to me. His tears had stopped and on his face was a look of terror, but also understanding. He was a student of the Bible after all. I suddenly thought he might understand more than I had previously assumed. Halloween was unknown to him, but the battle between good and evil was not. Nor were the agents of that battle, surely he could accept this situation as reality.

But there was no time to question him. The preacher had spotted us. He needed me, but he didn’t need Jeremiah, and would probably kill him if he got in the way. Suddenly Jeremiah heaved me to my feet. Even a short lifetime of barn raisings had made him much stronger than me.

“The commotion will have caused everyone to gather at the Bishop’s house. We should head there and be with the community,” he said, suddenly resolute.

“Jeremiah, that preacher, that thing, is going to follow me and endanger everyone else. I have to fight this on my own.” I tried to pull away from him, but he held me.

“You said my father came to see you. My father, not that abomination,” angry now, he pointed to the demon walking toward us, “He told you to come here. He knew Peter. He knew you would need our help. And you know it too, or you wouldn’t be here.” I looked around, the Angel of Mercy hovered above the demon that had been Mary only a few seconds ago. With a vicious roar it unsheathed ten inch claws from its seven toed feet and sliced the little demon to bits. My stomach churned as green blood sprayed everywhere and a horrible smell invaded the air.

“Ok, ok, ok, Jeremiah, you win, let’s go.” I nodded as he turned toward the flickering of distant lanterns.

The battle between angel and demon raged as we ran the short distance to the home of Bishop Eash. Behind me I heard the preacher screeching.

 “I’ll get you my pretty! I’ll get you! And your little Amish boy too!” Followed by ear splitting laughter. I hoped that didn’t mean the fight was going badly for the Angel of Mercy. And I hoped the Amish had some ideas for fighting a demon, because I had none. I looked at my watch. 12:45, I wondered if hiding out for another twenty-three hours and fifteen minutes was feasible. We stepped inside and were greeted with a warm fire and a community full of candle-lit, anxious and somber faces.

“Jeremiah?” said a man much taller than me and very thin, “what is going on out there? We have all gathered safely, but,” he stopped and looked searchingly at Jeremiah and me. We re-capped the story to the best of our ability. It felt surreal, standing in the hot, fire lit room surrounded by bearded men in suspenders talking about the Angel of Mercy and the demon who needed my blood to raise a god. The women and children were grouped in a different room, I could hear their soft voices carry over ours from time to time. And from time to time, blue and orange flashes brightened the semi-lit room.

“I remember you,” an old, white bearded man said, “you took Amos’ daughter.” Took was a strong word I thought. I loved Mary. Would always love Mary. I never had any intention of harming her, no intention of any of this happening. I was about to respond but Jeremiah jumped in.

“My father appeared to Peter today and told him to come to us for help. So it must be God’s will that we help him. I know nothing of casting out devils. Bishop Eash, we look to you for leadership.” Jeremiah bowed his head as the tall, spindly man stepped forward, stroking his long dark beard.

“We should gather salt and make a perimeter around this house. Demons fear it as a preservative.” His voice was grave, but I still thought the idea sounded absurd. Then again, I would have arranged an artillery line of men with water pistols filled with holy water if I had been asked my opinion.

“Then what?” Broke in a soft feminine voice from the back of the room. On cue every man’s head turned to see who had spoken. A very pregnant Ester stood in the doorway between the women and the men.

“Then nothing, if what I understand is correct, we only have to keep it at bay until tomorrow,” Bishop Eash said, looking uncomfortable.

“And leave it to come back next year and the next? Leave it to haunt this poor man for the rest of his life? No, we must take action. As the Lord Jesus said in Luke chapter 11, a house divided against itself cannot stand. Are we not now abandoning the Angel of Mercy? How can our house stand thus divided?” Ester leaned against the door jamb, her right hand pressed into the small of her back. I looked at Jeremiah. A wide smile spread over his face. He made his way through the crowd to stand with his wife and give her support. Tears welled in my eyes, God I missed Mary.

“What are you thinking of Ester?” Jeremiah urged her forward. She blushed a dark pink, and opened her mouth to speak. Just then a blue streak crashed through the window. Men were thrown aside and glass flew everywhere.

“The light! Please put out the light!”