My Mommy is the Devil

MY MOMMY IS

THE DEVIL

2nd Edition

by

WILLIAM COLE

Copyright 2016 by William Cole

SmashWords Edition

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either

r are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any

resemblance to actual person, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

These words that follow hereinafter are of my deepest appreciation of family, collected friends both old and new and business associates. Shout out to Bill Holland and remembering Geneva Powell Holland. Shout out to one of the best of the best cousins, Donald A. Key, Absecon, N.J. Leeanna Couplin, Absecon, N.J. Ja' nai' Couplin, Absecon, N.J. Tiphanie and Brandon Hart, Atlantic City, N.J. Khalid Muhammad, Brooklyn, N.Y. Legendary D.J Chuck Chillout, New York City. Jason Jones, Bronx, N.Y. Damien Barnes,Atlantic City, N.J. One of my best new friends Jalen Hill Boy Rhodes of Jackson, MI. Shout out to Steven Davis, Jersey City, N.J. Shout out to a great friend John Ross Myrthil, Brooklyn, N.Y. Shout out to a good friend "Natficial Fellowmen, Bronx, N.Y. Shout out to Senior V.P. Of CW1 Anthony Jones, E. Long Island. Shout out to my good friends Kyle Lake, Bronx, N.Y. And Alan Davis, Bronx, N.Y. Shout out to Michael A. Wooten, Brooklyn, N.Y. Shout out to a new good friend Sean Smalls, Bronx, N.Y. Shout out to one of the best of best friends, Elie Vickery of Brooklyn, N.Y. Shout out to my long-time friend and homie Melvin Carey, Harlem, N.Y. C. Shout out to a new good friend Thomas P. Brown The Third, of Harlem, N.Y.C. Shout out to one of the best of the best friends Arthur Butler, Bronx, N.Y. Shout out to Dante Powers, Bronx, N.Y. Shout to a good friend Wesley M. Graham, Brooklyn, N.Y. Shout out to long-time friend and author Kwame Williams, E. Long Island. Shout to Damien Sauerbrier, Tahoe City, CA. Many thanks for your support. Shout out to Theodore Catera, Paramount Pictures and Frank Calo – director, Lions Gate Films. Shout out to a long-time friend Lenny Holloway, Bronx, N.Y. Shout to Roy Grimes, Brooklyn, N.Y.

Shout out to Kaleb M. Wilson, Bronx, N.Y. Shout out to Precious Love, Esquire Publications who is a strong woman and entrepreneur and stands behind her business. Shout out to long-time friends Carlton Fredericks, Youngstown, Ohio and Raymond Mc Rinna, Goosecreek, SC. Shout out to Steven Ibe, Dade, Florida. Shout out to Jo Anne Huguley, Ventura, CA. Shout to Kevon Ja' Mar Blake, Washington, D.C. In deepest memory always remembering Michael Stafford and Mario Godette.

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CHAPTER 1

Dark thunderous looking clouds were rolling in and coming together. The clouds were approaching as if something was behind them pushing them. Violent and loud, bassful claps of thunder sounded followed by a haunting rumble. Sporadic flashes of lightning illuminated the evening sky, but the thunder and lightning activity was not caused by an expected storm. It was caused by an approaching evil!

Steve Barnes and Rick Gannon were in the midst of performing a very dangerous witchcraft ritual whereas the consequences may be severe.

Steve lived in a brownstone apartment in the So-Ho area of New York, in Lower Manhattan. The So-Ho district consisted of many stores, such as clothing, leather shops, jewelry, delicatessens, etcetera. Steve was white with blonde shaggy-like hair. His slim frame and drawn face made him look somewhat anorexic. Steve wore a tattoo of the demon Kutulu on his back. On four out of five fingers on each hand he wore bizarre occult jewelry such as skull rings and serpent rings and one with the face of the devil. Steve was twenty-six years old. He was heavily into the practice of black magic and witchcraft. The walls in his apartment were decorated with frightening décor. He had ceramic gargoyles with demonic faces hung on his living room walls and a large inverted wooden cross that hung on the center of his living room wall just over a pull out sofa. Steve had built shelves along his walls that were lined with winged demon statues in a frozen attack pose. A human skull rested on a small end table with a cigarette between its teeth as part of Steve’s warped sense of humor. The smell of Franklin® incense burned heavily to help invoke the spirits. Candles burned with the utmost eeriness casting weird shadows on the walls that moved with the gentle sway of the flames.

Steve and Rick had made a pentagram on the floor. A five-pointed star with a double protective circle. Steve had drawn in all of the proper symbols between the double lines. Rick had placed a large jeweled vase in the center of the pentagram. He removed a fairly large cork from the top of the vase.

Rick was average height and a bit on the husky side. He had dirty blonde colored hair that practically surrounded his full round face. He had what looked like a matted down goatee. Rick was twenty-five years old. He was still pretty much amateur with the practice of witchcraft. Most of Rick’s knowledge of the occult was obtained from Steve. Rick tightly grasped a sterling silver St. Christopher medallion that he wore around his neck during each ritual. This would make Rick somewhat of a hypocrite. A white candle burned at each point of the star before Steve and Rick who were standing before the circle.

Oh horned God. We [conjure] thee. I bend your will to thy own to do our bidding. Tonight is the night that the gates of hell open and you shall walk free! Hail Satan! Hail Satan! We conjure thee! Do our bidding! The dead shall rise and devour the living! Lucifer, Beelzebub, Methostopholies, we do intrigue! We conjure thee! Steve yelled in an authoritative tone. He read the ritual from memory, only occasionally glancing at the Necronomicon, the book of the dead.

When Steve stopped with the ritual, a seemingly uncanny dead of silence prevailed like the calm before the storm. A bassful rumble was felt beneath their feet like an earthquake tremor shooting across the floor. Rick’s eyes widened as he looked fearfully around the room. He stared at the cupboard over the sink as he listened to the clinking noise of the dishware in the cabinet. Steve seemed mused while he wore a sinister yet pleased smirk on his face. The French doors suddenly and violently blew open slamming against the walls, shattering the glass in the panes.

Rick jumped in fright while Steve calmly turned around. Strong gusts of wind entered the apartment. Their hair began to blow back. The flames on the candles burned thin from the wind, then went out. Rick and Steve saw thunderous looking gray clouds that appeared to be moving at a rapid pace towards the house.

Let’s stop it! I think we did it! Send it back! Rick yelled, fearing the worst.

Hell, no! We didn’t come this far to turn back! Steve yelled, as the wind’s gusts increased. Miscellaneous items rose on their own volition and violently crashed against the walls. Rick cowered and tried to cover from the flying items. A loud bassful clap of thunder sounded like someone beating on a bass drum with violent flashes of lightning following.

Run! Rick yelled, squeezing his St. Christopher medallion. When Rick attempted to move, a bolt of lightning shot inside the apartment and struck the floor and shot across burning a long line through the carpet.

Steve finally was forced to cower in the wind. He was hit violently hard in the head by a solid glass ashtray. The flames on the carpet quickly died down and went out, and the room became incredibly dark!

A sudden bassful clap of thunder with a static like flash of lightning caused Rick to scream. The flash of lightning revealed a hideously horrible and distorted face, and judging by its appearance, it was very pissed off.

Rick took a few steps back. Look! Rick yelled, as he pointed toward the open French doors. The rapid moving clouds suddenly rushed into Steve’s apartment as if they were being sucked in by a vacuum. A violent bassful clap of thunder sounded upon the clouds filling the room. Steve suddenly screamed out as he was picked up and violently flung across the room by some dark demonic force. Sudden static like flashes of lightning revealed frightening demonic faces in the clouds.

The jar! Steve called out and moaned of pain afterwards. The clouds began to clear revealing the cupboard that started to crack in the plaster walls that held it as if something had tried to rip it off the wall. The doors of the cabinet violently opened and closed; then the drawers in the kitchen slid out and were dumped on the floor. The silverware drawer crashed to the floor scattering silverware. Knives lifted on their own volition and were seemingly being thrown.

Rick and Steve, still struggling with the high gusted wind, screamed and tried to duck. Rick clutched his medallion tightly and began to recite the [Lord’s] prayer over and over. Knives violently flew at Rick, stabbing him in his chest, stomach and arms, and when he turned, a butcher knife went into his back. While Rick was screaming and about to fall, another bassful clap of thunder was heard, sounding like a sonic boom, followed by a flash of lightning that revealed a demonic face that looked at them and snarled. Rick’s medallion was suddenly ripped from his throat then there was a quick and sudden sound like a blade scrapping over a rock. Rick screamed and clutched his throat that began to bleed profusely. His scream became gargle like as he felt a warm substance flowing over his hand. Rick’s throat had been cut in such a way that it defied logic.

Nooo! Steve yelled and tried to get up from the floor and was struck down with some kind of paralysis. I can’t feel my legs! he screamed as he was forced to crawl across the floor.

Sporadic flashes of lightning continued to illuminate the clouds now with one demonic face. Rick was on his knees still trying to hold on to dear life, then he fell over on the floor dead. His blood that drained from his body quickly became a pool of blood that Steve was forced to crawl through trying to reach the vase that he referred to as the jar.

As Steve pulled himself across the floor, he felt something hard and grasped it in his hand. It was Rick’s St. Christopher medallion. The strong gusts of wind, the lightning and the claps of thunder made it that much more difficult for Steve to reach the vase. Violent pounding suddenly began within the walls and over the ceiling and sporadic images of demonic faces appeared in the room. Miscellaneous items such as heavy furniture began to lift on its own volition and crash into walls. Some items deliberately hit Steve. His sofa raised in the air and came down violently hard as if someone slammed it down just missing Steve. He continued to force himself to make it up to the vase, while still holding onto his friend’s medallion.

Just as Steve reached the vase, he was violently snatched up and thrown into the kitchen sink and fell onto the floor. The entire cupboard suddenly gave way and fell, dropping down on the sink counter. Its contents fell out on the floor. A surprising sudden flash of lightning struck miscellaneous papers on the floor and started a fire. Steve tried to crawl faster as the fire was spreading. His sheer curtains and drapes quickly ignited as flames shot up towards the ceiling. Steve squeezed the medallion in his hand and this time, prayed to [God] for help.

Steve managed to finally reach the vase and a loud demonic moan was heard when Steve grasped the cork in the vase. He struggled with it as it seemed to be stuck. After a brief moment of twisting and turning the cork, it came out and a raspy sounding sigh was heard. A double bassful clap of thunder sounded and Steve was suddenly picked up by his throat and held in mid-air kicking out blindly. Steve’s throat was being squeezed and squeezed until his eyes bulged out of their sockets. Steve’s feet and his pant legs began to burn. Steve let out a horrible scream as his body was being consumed in the blaze. When Steve’s body was completely consumed in flames, he was violently flung forward out of the window.

Steve’s body looked like a flaming shiskobob! Civilians in the street nearby the building screamed as his body crashed on top of a parked car. Seconds after Steve landed on the car, the car’s alarm went off.

Oh, my God, look! said one passerby, pointing up to a window with roaring flames that seemed to jump out of the window at times.

Is anybody in that car? someone asked.

Somebody call the fire department, an elderly man said.

A civilian ran to the nearest street corner to a firebox and reported the fire at Steve’s apartment. Light flurries of snow had begun to fall while flames roared out of the window.

I’ve never seen flames do that before, a woman said.

I hope no one is still in there! another woman said.

After five minutes, heavier snow began to fall and the wailing sounds of fire truck sirens could be heard at a distance. Within two minutes, five trucks were coming down Spring Street. Firemen jumped off the truck and ran over to the nearest fire hydrant. While one fireman turned the cap to open the hydrant, another ran over with a hose. After the hoses were hooked up, firemen hurried into the building to extinguish the fire.

A half hour had gone by and snow was continuing to fall. An ambulance pulled up with no flashing lights. The coroner had been called for Rick Gannon’s charred remains. Rick’s body had been burned beyond recognition. His charred face had a frightening frozen scream.

Three days later, evidence that there had been a fire in the neighborhood was present from the stench of burned wood and miscellaneous items. Burned debris from the fire had been removed from Steve’s apartment and set outside to be picked up by public sanitation. Steve’s window had been boarded up and the deadly fire would soon be just a memory. People and businesses would resume their everyday life.

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CHAPTER 2

It’s 8:45 p.m. and most of the stores in the So-Ho area had begun to close for the night. Civilians were hurrying to their cars or whatever transportation they used to get out this very cold winter night.

Carol Garvey and Kathy Reynolds are the best of friends. They love to go on shopping sprees or just window shop. Carol and Kathy had just walked out of a shoe store. They stood outside of the store’s showcase window and watched the owner pull down the gate and try to admire other styles of shoes at the same time. Carol left her 1999 station wagon parked in a 24-hour parking garage on 59th Street. She knew how difficult it would be finding a parking space in Lower Manhattan.

Carol is forty-one, tall, with auburn colored hair that rested gently on her shoulders. She was a nicely shaped, medium size breasted woman. She wore her dark brown snow boots with rabbit fur around the tops of the boots to set off her eggshell colored trench coat.

Come on, let’s go! Carol said, sounding a bit disappointed that the store had closed.

Carol and Kathy are from Mt. Kisco, New York. Carol and Kathy sometimes play the sister role and dress similar to each other. Kathy wore a cream-colored trench coat and the same boots as Carol just in the color black. Kathy lives several houses down from Carol and when both are off from work, they try to get together.

Carol has a pretty smile that gave her long square chin face a glow. Carol is a bank investor, working out of the Bank of New York on Washington Street in Lower Manhattan. Carol doesn’t like dealing with public transportation and drives into the city daily.

Kathy Reynolds is tall, with long black hair that was cut in a style to bring out her heart-shaped face. Kathy had on a large pair of key ring designer earrings in silver that went nicely against her hair. Carol’s pug nose was red as a beet. She folded in her small lips to moisten them. She was a big fan of lip gloss. She always tried to find a lip gloss color that would go well with her outfits. Carol and Kathy kept a conservative appearance at work and whenever they were out for a good time.

Carol and Kathy were walking fast trying to get out of the cold. They had two shopping bags a piece in each of their hands. It was easy to make time walking on the narrow sidewalks. Since it was cold there weren’t many shoppers out this night.

Oh, my God! Kathy, look, look at that beautiful beaded jug over there! Someone must be out of their mind to throw out something like that! she said, hurrying over to it. Kathy smiled knowing that Carol would be tempted to take it home.

Carol put her bags down next to the garbage and picked up the jug to better examine it. It’s covered with so much soot! I guess a little cleaning and perhaps a little Windex® for the jewels and it should look good as new, Carol said, talking out loud as Kathy walked up behind her.

I have to admit, I do like the dark colored glass. It’s such a pretty dark blue and those red jewels are almost hypnotic! They’re like looking into someone’s eyes! Kathy said.

Carol shook her head in disbelief that someone would actually discard something that she found to be so beautiful. To Carol, it was a piece of artwork just being wasted, left out in the elements to be picked up eventually by the city’s sanitation.

Carol suddenly began to feel queasy as she examined the jug. She closed her eyes a moment and put her left hand up to the side of her head. She felt like she was experiencing a slight dizzy spell. She found it strange since she never suffered from dizzy spells.

Carol, are you alright? Kathy asked, noticing that her friend appeared a little disoriented.

Carol tried to shrug it off by justifying herself not wanting Kathy to worry. Yes, I’m fine. It’s probably from rushing up to it so fast. I bent over quickly then stood right up, Carol said and sat the jug down and immediately started making room in one of her bags. She removed half of the items from one bag and put them into the other. Carol picked up the jug and carefully put it down in the bag. I’m ready! Carol said, smiling at Kathy.

You’re sure you’re alright? Kathy asked as they started to walk between two parked cars.

Yes, I’m fine. I’m alright! Stop worrying so much, Carol said.

Okay, if you say so! Kathy said as they stepped out into the street to hail a cab.

A car suddenly came speeding down the street and fishtailed, hitting the car next to them and kept going. Kathy and Carol screamed as they threw themselves back against a parked car.

Did you see that? He tried to kill us! Carol screamed.

Oh, my God. We could have been killed! Let’s just get a cab and go home! Kathy said, clinching the handles of the shopping bag tighter as she flagged down a cab.

Here comes one now! Carol said. Taxi! Taxi! Carol said, and the cab stopped several feet past them.

Kathy and Carol practically ran with their bags to the cab before another desperate New Yorker would have a chance to steal their cab.

Carol looked back just as she opened the cab door, expecting to see another car come speeding down the block. Kathy got in first and Carol followed. Before Carol closed the door, she looked back again assuring herself that no motorist would slam into their cab and take off. She gave the door a good slam and turned around and smiled at Kathy then she smiled at a foreign looking man sitting behind the steering wheel.

Where to? the cab driver asked, while Carol started to position the bags on the floor. The cab driver looked tired, perhaps from driving all day.

Carol picked up the bag with the jug and sat it on her lap. The 59th Street parking garage, please! Carol said, and the cab pulled off swiftly, speeding up to a red traffic light and stopped. The traffic light turned green and the cab proceeded. Carol began to examine her fine while they rode. Oh look, it has a cork! I wonder what was in this! Carol said openly.

Kathy returned a friendly smile as she looked over at the jug. You’re right. It is beautiful! I mean once it’s cleaned up. I couldn’t imagine who would throw out something so pretty! Kathy said.

Carol took the jug out of the bag and gave it a good shaking while she listened to hear any items that may be inside.

Do you hear anything? Kathy asked.

Carol frowned with some disappointment. No. Nonetheless, it’s for keeps! she said, twisting the cork trying to remove it.

Look out! Kathy screamed as they were suddenly thrown to one side of the cab from the car fishtailing. The cab had just missed careening into a huge garbage disposal truck.

Carol put the jug back in the bag and held it close to herself. Can you be a little more careful? Carol asked the driver.

You could have had all of us killed! Kathy added.

The driver seemed not to understand Kathy and Carol. Yes, yes, I go! the cabby said and speeded up.

Carol and Kathy looked at each other, their body language reading the same, that the man must be a little crazy. Kathy had become annoyed of the cabby’s driving skills fearing what may happen next. This is what we get for leaving our cars! Mine is home and yours is uptown, Kathy said.

Carol just stared ahead at the passing streets without turning her head. I just wanna go home! Carol said, as they approached the busy traffic jammed 59th Street.

Kathy and Carol were so frustrated with the driver and the previous events that Carol slapped her hand on the driver’s headrest to get his attention. Driver! We can get out here! We’ll walk to the next block.

Kathy reached in her trench coat’s inside pocket and removed her purse. I’ll pay for this now and you can give it back next time, Kathy said.

Oh, I have it! Carol said, searching her bag for her purse.

It’s okay, Carol, Kathy said.

Carol gathered her bags preparing to get out of the cab. She reached down in the bag feeling around the jug. Ow! Carol cried.

Kathy looked over at Carol as she handed her money off to the driver. What is it? Kathy asked.

Carol rubbed two fingers together and saw that she was bleeding. I didn’t realize that the jug had any sharp edges! It must have been a chip or something on one of the jewels! Carol said, not sounding like she was making too much sense. Carol laughed. "I got