#1

Henry Howard the Chaplain

Henry Howard was busy putting away books in the ship’s library. It was a duty he never loved, and merely inherited from his late friend Ian. Regardless, he treated it with respect not for the books because he really hated to read but for his friend. Over time it became a meditation for him. The smell of old books brought back images of nostalgia. He would often reminisce of the good times in his life. He would remember the weddings and holiday celebrations he lead as the ships only chaplain. But more recently, the smells wouldn’t just remind him about the celebrations but also the hardships.

Flashes of funerals often came back to him. He had to attend every single one of them, and over the past year he seemed to think about these more recently. It was impossible for him not to. The men and women would often come to Henry and ask for his prayers before their missions, and Henry took this duty personally and offered up his best prayer to God. He knew it wasn’t in his hands, but when his shipmates wouldn’t come back he felt as if God had abandoned him. As time went on he felt like he lost control, or rather he began to realize he never really had any. Space lacked empathy, and it began to seem so did God.

He grabbed a book and was about to put it on the shelf when he remembered his best friend Ian. Ian was the former librarian on the ship, and one of the men he prayed over only to fall victim to the harsh reality of space. He died when he and Henry were on a routine trip to an outpost that was known for carrying a large collection of books. They took a shuttle down filled it with rare books that Ian selected for the crews entertainment, and then took it back up. On the way up an emergency repair was needed. As crew members they were both trained on the basic engineering needed for this repair, but Ian insisted he go under the condition that Henry offered his prayers of protection. Henry didn’t fight him. He never suspected anything could go wrong, but it did. The suit wasn’t properly inspected and a small blemish would catch on to a piece of the shuttle jutting out. The material ripped. He died almost instantly and all Henry could do was watch as the cold body floated through the space staring back through the glass. Henry would have done anything to switch spots with his friend, to see him again.

Frozen by this searing memory, the book Henry held firmly dropped. He would have remained that way had it not been for the deafening echo of the book made as it struck the ground. As he picked it up he noticed a strange symbol printed on the cover. He turned it over in his hands looking for a title. His hands shook as he did this. This symbol was somehow familiar yet foreboding. The book was used and tattered, the red color of the binding had faded to more of a color resembling dried blood. He found no title, but as he flipped through the pages he saw descriptions of demons, images of there anatomy, and various notes scribbled in the margins.

It looked like some old book of superstitions to him. He tossed it aside deciding it wasn’t worth putting up for the crew. He had that authority now although he wished he didn’t. After Ian’s death, the Captain was going to do away with the library, but Henry fought for it. He begged the Captain to let him continue running it, and out of sympathy the captain obliged.

As he continued shelving the books, he checked each one now for any curiosities, but to his surprise they were all normal. Once finished, he brought the dried blood colored book over to a trash can and held it there. Instead of tossing it he remembered that Ian used to any book can change someone’s life. Seeing as what this book had in it henry doubted this, but resolved to bring it back to the outpost out of respect. Perhaps it was a historical book that they could display. When he got back to his room he threw it on his desk where in the subsequent days it quickly became covered by loose papers and dirty clothes.

……

A month went by without much excitement. Henry continuing his duties as chaplain on the ship. The routine grew boring, he was losing interest in what he was preaching, and began doubting who he was praying too. Seeing people in their happiness reminded him of the past while seeing people in their saddest reminded him of the present. The more death he saw the more he thought about lost friend Ian, and the more he thought about Ian the more he doubted his God.

After performing a funeral service for a young man who was lost on a planetary exploration mission. He grabbed a bottle of wine out of the chaplains supply and began drinking. The illusion of control he had dissipated. He now saw space as cold and merciless. He drank to rid himself of this fear. He knew nothing good would come long term, but in this moment it was a break. At some point he stumbled to the bathroom accidentally knocking some papers off his desk and there was the book with the color of dried blood.

In a drunken curiosity his fingers fumbled through the pages and his eyes stopped every so often to read something interesting. He quickly realized that this book was in fact used practically. This wasn’t some joke book or fantasy book put together for entertainment. It was a book used by some ancient occultist living on the outpost. What really confirmed it was the dates. It was as if someone was collecting data running tests from experiments they tried attempted.

The book was amusing to Henry, the notes and images were of casual interest, but then he came to one part of the book that seemed to have warning messages written in excess. It was about resurrection and detailed a way to revive the dead. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Ian

He moved to his bed, continuing to read. This section was complex and detailed. It wasn’t easily understood but nonetheless it was a roadmap for bringing back the dead. The primary component started by summoning a demon and extracting its blood. That night Henry fell asleep with a wine bottle in his hand and the book open on his chest.

…

As the next few weeks passed Henry spent more and more time studying the book. He grew distant. His Sunday services were no longer filled with his passion but more of a detached boredom. People took notice and negan asking Henry if everything was ok. He brushed them aside saying nothing was wrong. A group of ship mates that he attended weekly trivia with also addressed him when he had missed two weeks. He brushed them off as well claiming to be tired and busy. This wasn’t entirely a lie he was busy, but it wasn’t with his regular duties it was with the intricacies of summoning a demon.

This was the first step in possibly bringing back his friend Ian from the dead. He was tired of being helpless. He wanted to have control, wanted to feel like he made a difference, and most of all he wanted his friend back.

——

He didn’t completely ignore people’s worries. As he was keeping extensive notes and list of ingredient he needed for the demon summoning ritual he began to doubt himself. He worried all of this was for nothing. When he was at a local outposts gathering a crows foot, saffron, and other eccentric items he wondered if he had gone mad. There is no way this witch craft could work.

Following that trip to the outpost he put the book away completely. He knew he was becoming obsessed and it scared him. He went to the ships psychiatrist, but out of embarrassment only vaguely explained his situation. She offered some medicine for a temporary fix. Henry began taking it, and it helped at first.

However, from the prior weeks of pushing people away he felt alone, and in his loneliness the book seemed to call to him even stronger. He wanted his friend back. This was an opportunity for him to really make a difference, and to gain an ability that is unthinkable.

Soon after his visit to the psychiatrist, Henry dove back into his studies even more passionately than before until the day to summon a demon finally arrived.

He had gathered all the ingredients and artifacts required, but still hadn’t figured out where he could keep the demon. A demon running wild would surely turn heads. His room wouldn’t suffice, and the only other place he could think of was the chapel. More specifically, a large closet space sunken beneath the chapel itself. It was in the lowest level of the ship, an area often left solely to engineering. He couldn’t even remember the last time he saw someone down there. It was the perfect place.

He waited until the dead of night(or at least a spaceships simulated night) to sneak over with his bag of equipment. Henry figured no one would bother him, and he was right. He casually said hello to the few night crew members he saw, and not one of them asked what he was doing up. He knew these people and they trusted him. It was too easy to hide in plain sight.

As he arrived to the lower level the scene was dark and mechanical. Pipes were strung all above him and the walls were dimly lit by emergency lights. It was quiet except for the whirring noises of various machines that powered the ventilation system.

Entering the chapel storage the lights were bright, as if some judgement was upon him. He dimmed them before lighting the candles. Next came the saffron which he burned and waved around the room. It was smoky and the smell was strong. He shut off the ventilation to the room so that no smell would get out. On the floor was an array of markings and symbols he copied from book in red ink to make a ceremonial square. The bottle of oil he procured for this was sealed so tight that he couldn’t pry it open, but instead had to smash top of it. The oil poured out onto the ground smearing the ink markings. Finally, he took off his necklace. It was a keepsake from his friend Ian. The book called for a sacrifice, something that was cherished dear by the owner. Henry kissed it and threw it into the ceremonial square where it made a small splash in the oil. Taking out a pocket knife he sliced his hand and drilled blood onto the ground.

The next part he was nervous about. He was supposed to light the oil but surely that would set off the fire alarm system. He double checked the ventilation system was closed and grabbed the fire extinguisher just in case. He figured he could play it off as an accidental candle fire. Even with all this prepared he shook as he held the match over the oil. Fear of the fire was one thing, but Henry knew much more deeply the shaking was from the fear of a demon. As the match hit the ground a fire erupted much more quickly and intense than he imagined. He winced and reared back at the heat, but before he could adjust it was gone. The room bright and burning one moment , and turned to darkness and ice the next.

Henry stood still while the hair on the back of his hair stood up. He could hear breathing from something else other than him. It was heavy, labored.

“Who summoned me.”

It was a deep dangerous sounding voice. Henry did not answer. He moved back quietly a few steps to the light.

“Don’t try to hide I can see you.”

The menacing voice rang out again sending a chill right through Henry’s spine like he had never felt before. He flicked the light on. The demon was the size of an average human, maybe even a bit smaller. He was thin but strong. His entire body was as black as the night. Henry could not stop staring at the red eyes glowing back at him. It was like two rubys were lit up in the sun. There was no iris no pupil just a bright red.

“Look at this weak pathetic…” The demon couldn’t finish there was another button next to the light switch that wasn’t normally there. It was makeshift and connected to a wire that ran up to the ceiling. Henry pressed it and a cage dropped on the demon.

The demon surprised this took a quick look at his surroundings grabbed the bars, and then let out a hiss. Not a hiss of a snake but a deep hiss, and he stuck out his tongue. Henry thought the sound alone was enough to poison someone.

“Shut up,” Henry said. That was the first time he had even acknowledge the demon. The demon looked at him with a cocked head of disbelief and began to scream. The hair on Henry’s arms stood up and he was forced to cover his ears. After a few seconds the demon became silenced and looked at Henry with a smug grin. Henry smiled back.

“No one will hear you down here. You can continue if you like.” The demon stayed silence and just scowled at Henry. He watched as Henry brought out different equipment. Henry took out a scanner that would record vitals and wrote down the numbers as they came through. Henry sat at a desk and went to work recording and verifying trying to get some preliminary understanding of what was in front of him. Hoping that in some way it would unlock some answer, but at this initial investigation he found nothing.

“Where were you before I summoned you,” Henry asked. The demon spit on him, and the spit was slimy and pungent.

“As if I would tell you. Why did you summon me? Did you need entertainment?”

He looked around at the bars encircling him and then at Henry’s setup of tools and monitors. Henry seemed to ignore all this and didn’t respond. He began picking up his things, and getting ready to leave. That was all the work he was going to do for the night. The demon saw this and he curled his face to think of what to do.

“Or maybe you summoned me because of your dead little friend.”

A pencil Henry was holding snapped in his hand. It was if hearing Ian being talked about by this demon was too much to tolerate, grabbed his backpack shut the lights and left.

——

The next day Henry went about his normal business. He held a mass on Sunday and during this mass he often thought about the demon directly beneath him in the basement of the chapel. No one could hear the demon and no one knew. It was a long day as Sunday’s usually were, and Henry has little sleep the night before, but he couldn’t wait to get back into the basement to try more experiments.

As he walked in that night the demon spit at him again and his red eyes shown with more ire now than they did the night before.

“I am going to die in here.”

Henry heard this but ignored it. The book stated that demons could live for months without even a drop of water. He knew this was just a trick by the demon, and he wasn’t about to fall for it.

“Tell me more about your little friend. What a stupid way to die.”

The anger bubbled deep from within Henry, but he knew that’s what the demon wanted and so he wouldn’t give him the reaction. He wanted. Instead he grabbed a large needle. Walk up stuck it right in the demons back and drew blood. When he did this the demon thrashed in the cage, nearly. Knocking it over. He stuck the blood in a freezer knowing it would take a few das to get back the results. He gathered his things and walked out with the demon thrashing in the cage behind him.

——

The next month Henrys behavior was much the same. He spent his days engrossed in studying the book and his nights experimenting on the demon. Every blood sample he took, and every biological sample he obtained disintegrated before he could extract any useful information from them. Even on his fastest attempt to get them under a microscope the samples would evaporate within a second. The demon seemed to laugh harder at each of Henry’s failed attempt. He taunted him teasing him that surely the next time it would work.

These repetitive defeats were beginning to take a toll. The book had Henry’s head turned into a puzzle, and his patience was evaporating as fast as the demons blood. Two weeks of failure and confusion passed before Henry gave up on his self promise to not talk to the demon. He thought it was disgusting and immoral, but now he was getting desperate and the hours of missed sleep were mounting.

“What can you tell me,” Henry asked.

“I can tell you about your little friend that you killed.”

Brushing aside these comments Henry pressed on.

“Why can’t I examine your blood.”

“Why did you let your friend die. You could have repaired the ship just as well, but you let him volunteer. Coward.”

Henry got up and his face was close to the cage and filled with anger. “You don’t know anything about that. You vile creature.” As he was this close it was the first time he really noticed how then the demon was getting. The few weeks int he cage without food or water had made his body grow fragile, and weak.

“I know enough. The blood mixed in with one of his favorite necklaces at my summoning. These carry memories, and I know your little friend felt so betrayed by you. You call yourself a friend.” Henry reached in and punched the demon. The demon had no energy to resist and staggered to the ground. Henry walked out.

—-

Henry’s actions grew more erratic. His eyes were large like those of sleepless owls and people began to take notice. He canceled a Sunday service which was unheard of. He claimed he was sick, but due to prior behavior no one believed him.

One evening the captain summoned Henry to his office. This was a very rare occurrence, and made Henry snap out of his obsession, at least long enough to shower and put on clothes that made him look presentable. When he arrived the captain sat him down, and explained his concerns. Told Henry what he heard from other and what he observed himself. Henry was cordial with the captain acknowledging his reason for worry. Henry claimed he just needed a mental break. The captain was more than accommodating. Being the leader of such larger crew, he had certainly seen many others break down in lapse He told the chaplain to take a couple of weeks off. Just enjoy time by yourself in your room. Don’t worry about all your other duties.

——

The chaplain accepted the captains offer, but instead of spending his time relaxing he devoted more to his research. However, a week into his vacation he knew nothing more than when he started. He began interrogating the demon, and when the demon stayed silent Henry would prod him with an electrically radiating stick. The demon hissed, and spit and yelled, but never budged. The silence tormented Henry. The demons frame was shrinking more and more. He spent much of his time hobbled over shivering in his cage.

After another week of unsuccessful interrogation he gave up. It has been over a month and everything he did was unsuccessful. He was no closer to discovering any truths. He thought he would make one last attempt at the demons blood. The demon so weak and feeble now barely moved as the needle was inserted and blood drew out of him. Once again, before Henry could make use of the blood it evaporated away. He sat there for hours not saying a word. In a fit he swiped all the lab equipment off his desk and brough it to the ground. The shattering of glass filled the echoes of the room. He wept. The demon ceased his silent treatment with a deep hearty laugh.

“Ah if only your friend could see you now. You are so pathetic, unable to do anything. No wonder you let him die.” Henry snapped. He rushed over to the cage in a shaking rage. He reached for the lock holding the demon in as he shook with pulsing energy. His hands were so eager to squeeze the demons neck that he fumbled with the lock.

As he struggled, the demon who looked weak and fragile for the past few weeks stood up with an unusual sprynesss and grin. Preoccupied Henry didn’t notice. The lock eventually clicked and the door swung open. The demon stood there waiting for him. Henry stood frozen for just a moment, and in that moment the demon slapped his dark spindly hands around Henry’s skull. The red eyes of the demon erupted in a sudden blinding flash.

….

Henry was in the chapel preparing for his usual Sunday service. The Captain walk in as he always does on Sunday to say his prayers. When he was finished he stood up and walked towards Henry looking him up and down noting his warm face and energetic demeanor.

“It’s good to see you back at work Henry. How are you feeling?”

Henry looked up from the Bible to the captain with a grin and gleaming red eyes that went unnoticed.

“I fee like a whole new person.”