Body Swappers 5
Maya forcefully possesses a client, and winds up exorcized.
Near the end of her shift, in the middle of a breath, Maya left herself. The transference swept her out of her body and through the streets, to the Monroe Street bridge. This bridge is beautiful during the day, soaked in sunlight, looking out over the lower falls. But it was dark now, had been dark for hours, and the wind was biting cold. It was the kind of darkness that tended to set a woman’s nerves on edge when out in it alone, but Maya sensed none of that from the consciousness she’d settled in next to. And why would she? Frank was a middle aged white man, dressed in business clothes ill suited for the weather–chosen instead for looks.
Maya could feel tension in him. He was trying to remain calm, and do what he’d decided to, but anger kept rising up in his throat, threatening to strangle him. What Maya couldn’t figure out was why. His body was alone on the bridge, and the view was picturesque.
“I would like for you to deliver a message for me,” he said, studying the rocks that lay below. And she understood.
He had only brought her into a first level transference, giving her no power over his body. In cases of life or death, there was a backdoor that CMA’s could use to forcibly take control. Maya mentally turned away from him, so he wouldn’t pick up on her thoughts, while simultaneously running over the precise wording of her key phrase.
“Tell my cheating slut of a wife that I’ve drained my retirement account, and that this act will ensure there’s no life insurance payout.”
A racking cough doubled him over. There was something wrong with his lungs. Cancer? The muttered thought, Saves me from dying a cripple in pain, leaked from him to her. So did a flash of different emotions–confusion, hurt, fear. Anger roared up again to wipe the others away.
As he straightened, from the corner of his eye Maya glanced a figure approaching them along the bridge. She didn’t think Frank had noticed, so focused as he was on his purpose.
Good, she thought to herself. Help. She didn’t know how strongly she’d be in control of Frank’s body since she’d have to be fighting for it, and there was no ethical way to practice for that situation.
Frank grabbed the railing. Cold metal shocked his hands. “You can go now,” he said. “I imagine the next few moments won’t be particularly pleasant.”
Maya wanted to wait until the figure was closer before taking control, but she was running out of time. As Frank’s muscles began to tense, she thought, Bow down and kiss the ring.
He started the jump, but she tried to change direction at the last second. Frank’s thighs bashed into the railing, the concrete barrier catching against the fine fabric of his pants. After a moment where it felt like they could go either way, they came back down on the same side as where they’d started.
Maya used Frank’s eyes to check the position of the man coming towards them, which was a mistake. She felt understanding flash through Frank, and a renewed attempt to go over the side, even as the man started running towards them. Maya tried to lock Frank’s muscles in place, but trying to move comes more naturally than trying to hold still. They toppled over the railing.
Maya managed to grab the railing with one hand. The grit scraped into their skin as their fingers slipped off the inner edge, their body whipping around and bashing against the outer surface of the railing as their fingertips just barely held on to the upper surface. They were an inch, maybe two, away from falling. Their shoulder and fingers were screaming. But they held on. The body’s natural instinct is to preserve itself. Despite being wrenched around, despite Frank’s attempts to open his fingers, Maya kept them locked in a death grip. Still alive.
The other man spat, “Jesus Christ,” as he got to them. Maya got a fleeting look of black, gelled hair and startlingly blue eyes before he reached over the railing and jabbed Frank in the solar plexus.
Maya fell.
Did he push Frank?
Panic flashed through Maya as she braced to experience the pain before Frank’s death. But there was no impact, on rocks or water. Only falling, spinning, distortion.
A new fear kicked in. He exorcized me. And, unmoored from any body, disoriented, Maya lost control of the flow of her thoughts.
Lost. Alone.
Her little two-bedroom house seemed too large. It mocked her for having no life to fill it with.
Better than–
Her cheek broke. Worse than the hot flash of pain was the sense of wrongness as bone scraped against bone.
That’s it. It’s broken. Broken forever.
“Maya? Oh crap.”
She was in pieces. Shards. Drifting apart in blissful release before painfully recolliding.
He was always so angry. He used to spank her when she was younger. But “spank” didn’t fully explain it. He always kept at it until she was screaming. But now he only ever yelled.
Pink streamed through her.
“Bethany? It’s Maya. She’s untethered.”
Waves pulled her forward, then back.
Until that one time. He was yelling at her, as normal. His face was red, one eye bulging, spittle flying. Red, blue, green, and purple bloomed around him. It was a more extreme visual distortion than Maya had seen before while he yelled at her, and some detached part of her marveled at how crazy the brain’s reactions to things could be. The more present part of her was laser-focused, hating the man before her.
Why is he like this?
“Maya, hold on. I’m going to bring you back.”
The colors didn’t quite match the petty, angry man yelling at her. There shouldn’t be blue, right? There should be more red, and maybe some black. Even as she thought it, the colors changed to match her idle inklings.
He got louder, which she hadn’t realized was possible. Murder glinted in his eyes. If only he would just hit me, she thought, imagining going to the police with a bruise.
Pain, shearing, grating. She felt like nothing would ever be right again.
It was a lot more than a bruise that sent him to prison. Her mom couldn’t understand it. He’s not violent, she’d testified. Maya’s cheek said otherwise.
The colors hadn’t been a visual distortion. They stayed. That was the moment magic manifested. The very moment she had the power, she had made her dad hit her.
No, that’s not how it happened.
Maya felt as though her whole being were caught with a fishhook and hauled, hard. She blinked, and Jeff was kneeling over her, tapping her solar plexus quickly and lightly. A foul stench assaulted her nose.
“Unnng,” she said.
“Maya! Oh thank goodness,” Jeff said. He stopped tapping her and took her face between his hands. “Where is the client?”
“Monroe Street Bridge. Frank was trying to jump.”
“Crap!” Jeff picked his phone up off the ground next to Maya’s head. His finger flew over the screen. Maya felt like she was in a wave pool, and she was being tossed up and pulled down. She was aware that Jeff was talking to his cop friend, Mason, but only just. She started tapping her own solar plexus, and her awareness sharpened.
“Still there?” asked the voice on Jeff’s phone.
“Yeah.”
“We found two men, one named Frank. They say he lost his balance during a coughing fit and had a scare falling against the railing, but he wasn’t trying to jump. I pointed flashlights at the river. No body I can see. Anything else?”
Maya said, “Frank tried to jump. He’s suicidal. He wants to screw his wife out of his life insurance money.”
“Look, you know I believe you. But I’m going to get reamed if I claim your word as reasonable cause to take him against his will. We can keep a closer watch on the bridge for a few nights.”
Maya growled as she sat up. Jeff thanked Mason and ended the call. “It’s not his fault,” he said, preempting her.
“I know it’s not his fault. But it’s frustrating! Think, if tomorrow I make the 24 hour call only to find a second person dead in as many weeks. Frank needs to be taken for treatment!”
“I know, but that’s out of our control. Do me a favor and talk me through the whole thing.”
Maya took a centering breath. She explained how she’d realized Frank was going to jump, and how she’d taken him over. About the other man saying “Jesus Christ” and punching Frank in the solar plexus.
“Huh,” Jeff said, scrunching his face. “He combined a Christian exorcism with a chakra exorcism.”
“Or he was just doing a chakra exorcism while cursing.”
Jeff shrugged. “Oh. You’ll need to have another blood sample drawn. I burned the one we had for you to help your aura find its way back.”
“That explains the stink.”
“Also, Bethany is sending someone to relieve you for the rest of your shift.”
“What? I’m fine. I have to fill out the paperwork for this.”
“Don’t worry about it. You told me what happened, so I’ll write the summary. You can fill in any blanks when you get back.”
The chimes banged together. Bethany had moved fast. Either that, or Maya had been drifting for a lot longer than she’d thought. Her thoughts turned to her phone, and to three promising matches she’d made just before her shift. Maybe one of them would like to go on an impromptu date? She could use the stress relief.
Interesting way to stop suicide attempts.
Just too bad that someone saw her and tried
to send her to hell.
Luckily, the man didn't die
when he fell.