Free Psycho Thrill--Girl in the Well by Vincent Voss

bathrooms.
    “We should go confide in a priest or something. Or your friend.” Volker! She had nearly forgotten about him. Johanna races out to get her cell phone from the car
    “Shit,” she looks at the display. “He tried calling me several times.” She punches in his number.
    “Volker, it’s me, Johanna.” She turns away from the highway to hear better.
    “It’s good that you called, Johanna. We need to talk. I will gladly help you, and, after what I’ve translated, I feel an obligation to my faith to get involved.”
    Johanna has to laugh. She can’t stop, but also doesn’t know what she finds so funny. A truck driver glares in their direction.
    “Johanna?” Volker’s voice calls out from the receiver. She looks at Henning for help; he smirks, grins, and then also starts to laugh. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation. Maybe it’s the fact that it all seems so surreal. Crazy. It takes a while before she regains control.
    “Volker, can you please be at the witch archive in an hour? And please forgive me, but the whole thing … .”
    “It’s fine, I’ll be there.”
    She hangs up. “Let’s meet with Volker at the archive in an hour. He translated some of the recordings. Maybe he can help us.”
    Henning nods. When he gets back in the car, he bumps his head.
    September 8, 7:15 p.m., Witch Archive
    Jesus Christ, can you smell my cunt? Can you smell my cunt? Can you smell your mother’s cunt? Mary. You carried him. Cunt! I spit on your birth. On this day, the holy mother will come to be. The whore mother! And she will bring forth he who wades through blood. He who crucifies you. Mary! Cunt! Blood!
    Volker puts his notes aside, takes a sip of water. Reading it aloud was hard on him. Cut him to the core.
    “You know what I mean, Johanna?” Both Johanna and Henning nod.
    “We wanted to get you involved today anyway,” she answers. “We can’t get any further using our methods.”
    Henning lights a cigarette, while Johanna recounts their experience with Sabine Falkner. She doesn’t leave out a single detail. Occasionally, Henning glances back at the thermometer. Afterwards, a silence spreads throughout the room until Volker clears his throat and furrows his brow.
    “I … .” He’s still at a loss for words, he collects himself, and tries again. “I have no idea where to begin. I think you are dealing with a threatening phenomenon … well … we should actually say you’re dealing with a demon. We’re dealing with a demon.” Johanna and Henning already suspected it, but it’s nevertheless shocking to hear it from an outsider.
    “Maybe even the most powerful demon in all of Christendom,” Volker whispers, and they hear fear in his voice.
    “The most powerful demon?” Henning asks softly.
    “The devil,” Volker replies and crosses himself. A gesture that he had always considered excessive before, but which now seems very appropriate.
    “The devil,” Henning repeats.
    “Exactly. Baal Zebub. The lord of the flies. We know him as Beelzebub or as the devil,” Volker explains, and continues. “He likes to appear to his followers on or directly before Christian holidays. He can also — though it’s rather unusual — enter a human body and take possession of it.”
    “Why is that unusual?” Johanna asks.
    “Because … he is the devil himself. There are many lesser demons that do that more often. But the devil himself?”
    “Do you believe in that?” Henning asks. Volker considers, sighs.
    “Up until now, I didn’t believe it, no. But this … is different. And I have to admit that it overwhelms and scares me.”
    “Can this demon be awoken by anything in particular?” Johanna asks.
    “As I said, I am not very familiar with all that, with exorcisms and stuff. I’d interpreted the Christian teachings differently and more metaphorically up until now, but I never believed in the devil’s existence. But now? Yes, it’s possible. According to this, the devil can be summoned, can