“Egad,” said Looks Away tartly. “Like a party guest who will not leave.”
“Far worse than that,” said Brother Joe. “In such cases the human is driven mad and frequently commits terrible acts of violence and cruelty. There is a story from Europe about a prince, Vlad of Wallachia, who performed such a ritual and the list of his crimes is legendary. Perhaps other great mass murderers and conquerors have been similarly overcome. Maybe even the Caesars of Rome and—.”
“But you digress,” said Looks Away quietly.
“Sorry, sorry…” The monk looked momentarily flustered, then he found the thread of his tale. “The second way in which the manitou try and enter our world is by invading and reviving the bodies of the dead.”
Grey exchanged a quick, covert glance with Looks Away. Visions of the dead posse seemed to loom above them.
“What happens to these spirits when the body is destroyed?” asked Jenny. “Are the manitou killed, too?”
“I don’t think so. The abbot of my order believes they are released back into the spirit world. Into what many call the Happy Hunting Grounds.”
“‘Happy’ is a relative term,” mused Looks Away sourly.
“There is another way in which a spirit can walk in our Earth as a person,” continued the monk. “If a demon of sufficient power enters a body soon after death — and the soul inside has a strong will or something else the demon thinks makes the reward worth the risk — it can attach itself to the corpse permanently. This is what we call the ‘Harrowed,’ and they are far more powerful than ordinary undead. For the undead the possession, as dreadful as it must be, is fleeting. However with the Harrowed, the demon actually feeds off the holy light of the host’s soul. And in exchange it exists in a parody of actual life, even to the point of healing the stolen flesh when wounded. If it was not so dreadful a thing we would praise it as miraculous.”
“It sounds quite horrible,” said Looks Away quietly.
“It is,” said the monk, “for the soul and the invading spirit wrestle for constant control.”
“Wrestle is a funny word,” observed Grey. “Is there a chance the human soul can win?”
“Perhaps,” said the monk. “I’ve heard it said that a strong-willed individual might win back control of the flesh. Some say that there have been times when the human soul achieves this but then uses some of the demon’s supernatural abilities. Most often, though, it is the demon that is strongest and it takes dominion, suppressing the host and using the stolen flesh to cause as much strife and mischief as it can, delighting in the pain and suffering it inflicts.”
“Couldn’t we just put a bullet in them and end it there?” asked Grey. “Wouldn’t that end the — what’s the word? — occupation?”
“Possession,” supplied the monk. “And it’s not as simple as that.”
Grey sighed. “Of course it’s not.”
“You see, my friends, if the host is destroyed — say by a shot to the brain or burned to ashes — the demon is slain as well. Therefore it will do absolutely anything to prevent that from happening, and you cannot even imagine the lengths to which a Harrowed will go. It would burn down Heaven if it could. My abbot was uncertain as to whether this would release the soul of the possessed or cast it into greater spiritual torment. It is because of this that the Harrowed are perhaps the greatest example of the struggle we all have with sin and temptation and—.”
“Drifting, drifting…,” murmured Looks Away.
“No,” said Brother Joe, “I am not. Tell me, gentlemen, do you know why the War Between the States ended?”
“Ceasefire,” said Grey. “Everyone knows that.”
Brother Joe shook his head. “No, that is the lie that everyone believes. It’s what we have all been told. But the truth is that this world — our world — has been changed somehow. It has become an abode of evil.”
“Oh come on now,” began Looks Away, but Grey gestured for him to be quiet.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“It began at the Battle of Gettysburg,” said Brother Joe. “In that terrible, terrible place where so many died. But, God save us all, the dead did not stay dead. They rose.”
Those words hung there and no one dared speak. After what he and Looks Away had seen, Grey could not call this man a liar.
“It was a slaughter,” said Brother Joe, “with the dead killing the living and thereby swelling their own ranks. It forced the generals on both sides to withdraw. It happened again when the Union’s Potomac Army and the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia clashed. Red slaughter and the dead walking abroad in defiance of the natural order of things. The war ground on for years, but the horrible truth of the living dead, my friends, is what eventually brought on the ceasefire.”
“Those were manitou?” asked Jenny, her eyes huge.
“Yes, and with the risk that every battle would further empty the halls of Hell itself, the generals and politicians quietly ended hostilities. It was not a move toward peace and sanity but a desperate act to prevent the wholesale slaughter of everyone in North America.”
“By the Queen’s silken garters,” breathed Looks Away.
“But a lot of people have died since then,” protested Grey. “Why aren’t we ass-deep in walking corpses?”
Brother Joe shook his head. “There are so many mysteries. Some believe that only those who die by violence are at risk of being resurrected in this fashion. My abbot believes that it is only those who die in war. They could both be wrong, and for my part… I do not know.
Grey grunted. “You know, I did hear some rumors like that. But it was from men who were being treated for war stress. In army hospitals and such.”
“Or,” mused Looks Away, “is that where they put the witnesses to discredit them?”
It was an ugly question.
“My point,” said Brother Joe, “is that this kind of possession is the most frightening. They are the most rare of all these undead things, but they are also the most powerful. There are some who believe that a few of these Harrowed are still abroad in our world, hiding among us. Living in our own towns. Maybe in our own families.”
“How can you hide in plain sight like that if you’re dead?” asked Grey.
“What makes you think you could look at one and know?” asked Jenny.
“What do you mean?”
Her eyes were filled with pain. “If my pa had walked up to me on the street this afternoon, I wouldn’t have known he was… different. Tonight, he sounded the same, looked the same.”
“Hey,” said Grey, “let’s not forget that he shot you. It was only a lucky break that the bullet bounced off that fancy corset you’re wearing. Shooting you doesn’t exactly sell family unity and love to me.”
“He could have shot her in the head,” suggested Looks Away.
“C’mon, that was a monster out there, and—.”
Jenny’s face flushed with anger. “I know that, but he looked like my pa. I still can’t believe it’s not him.”
“The demons that animate the Harrowed want to walk among others. That is where they can cause the most harm. Their wounds heal and I am told they don’t look like corpses. Not like some of the other risen dead, at least. Some even say that a very strong-willed person can bring himself back from death, which is both encouraging and frightening.”
“My pa had a will of iron,” declared Jenny. “Sounds like he’d be the perfect candidate for these… things.”