Dr. John Lafayette (Marc Tizura)

Wrote Some Posts

Demon of the Crossroads October 24, 2021

In The White Room

I know where I am. This is my Hell room or loop or whatever fancy title you deem necessary to give it. I failed in collecting, and I was dragged back here to this time, to this day. It was the day when it all went wrong. It will begin in a moment. My body will act out this day while I get to watch like a passenger inside my own head.

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Demon of the Crossroads September 23, 2021

The One Who Got Away

My hand crossed the line and vanished, ceasing to exist. I pulled it back, and it returned. In anger, I reached through again with the same result. I bared my teeth at the unmoving human and let out a cry of rage. He watched with fascination at my furious frustration. My assistants ran full tilt into and past the line, vanishing entirely.

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Demon of the Crossroads June 29, 2021

Dockery Farms, Mississippi

Show them up? Well, how could I refuse? Could I refuse? I wasn’t sure that I could? I stood there weighing my options, the pros and cons of the situation presented before me. I scratched my cheek as he nervously dabbed at his bald pate with that handkerchief. I really didn’t want to go to Mississippi.

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The Idiot Box

There is a long silence as I watch him attempt to grasp the situation. For a moment, comprehension fills his eyes, like a light flickering in the attic. It is short-lived, the bulb faulty, and his eyes grow vacant again.

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Demon of the Crossroads March 31, 2021

The Last Rites of Ramone Alvarez

I scoff at his attempt to justify his actions. Hadn’t I attempted to justify my actions when I was alive? I honestly think all the hellbound souls do it. It’s how they sleep at night without being plagued by nightmares. It’s how they quell their consciences. What they don’t know and what they find out, as I did, is that they killed that fucking cricket. They only imagine it’s still there on their shoulder, whispering in their ear.

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Demon of the Crossroads January 29, 2021

Ms. Bethal’s Sad Last Day

My minions stop their assault and stare at her with dead eyes. She is frozen to the spot, looking at them. She sees Hell in their eyes, and rightfully so, she is bound there. One of the hounds jumps up and pounds the window, barking and snapping its teeth in a spray of hot spit. She screams and stumbles backward. I can’t help but laugh as the hounds and souls resume the barrage upon the house. Eventually, something in the warding slips, cracks, and breaks.

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