Playing with Monsters
by Melanie Ann Billings
Cathy was zoning in class. She could see the little monsters dancing
on the desks, playing at puppets with the students sitting around her. She laughed softly at the little slimy thing that wiggled its fingers in the teacher’s ear. Then she saw the blood trickling out of the ear onto the teacher’s white collar.
Cathy shut her eyes, banishing the scenario. She opened her eyes slowly. The monsters were gone. She sighed in relief. The monsters always appeared when she zoned. They were getting more violent. At first, they were fun to watch. They still were at times, but they weren’t neutral-funny anymore.
Sometimes, Cathy wished they wouldn’t appear. Especially when she was tired and wanted to sleep. When the lights went out, their sparkling, glowing eyes came to life. They bounced on her bed, playing with her hair. As she was getting older, they were getting rougher. Sometimes they hurt her, but she knew it was all in her head. At least, she thought so, until that one day.
Strange enough, the monsters had not appeared at all throughout the day. Cathy had been so relieved. She had been able to relax in class and not be plagued by visions of bloody claws—the monsters’ new favorite game.
Cathy’s mom was gone for the weekend. It was Friday, which meant that her brother was off camping with some of his pals. They wouldn’t be back until Sunday afternoon. Cathy was free to watch whatever she wanted, listen to loud music and do anything else she pleased.
Cathy loved to read. She went to her mother’s bookcase and began to examine the titles. Her mom liked Romances and Mysteries. Even so, there were always some odd-ball books that Cathy found much more interesting. She pulled out a couple that looked promising and went into the kitchen. She set the books on the table, filled the teapot, and put it to heat on the stove.
A strange feeling came over Cathy as she watched the burner turn into an orange glowing ember. Slowly, expectantly, she turned around. They were there. Only five, and they were fighting over the first book, carelessly tearing at the cracked plastic cover. The other book was sitting alone, away from the tug-of-war. One of the monsters sat on the table, facing her, watching intently. That had never happened before. Cathy felt a trickle of fear drip down her back.
The monster looked at the untouched leather-bound book and then raised its eyes to her again. The burning hatred in its glare slammed pain into her mind. She crumpled to the floor, clawing at her head.
Two of the monsters came on either side of her and pinned her shoulders to the cold tile floor. The glaring one lept from the table in one grotesque hop. It landed about a foot from Cathy’s head, snarling and spitting. The claws of the two monsters on either side of her tore into her shoulders as she writhed to avoid the pain she knew was coming.
The twisted little form bent over, hissing less than an inch from her face. It spat. The black saliva oozed down her face in a stream of agony. Her tears mixed with the muck, numbing the pain. She opened her eyes, but could see only red. When she could finally make out the gnarled squat little monster in front of her face, it was just in time to receive the sharp, stinging kiss of a little rock-like fist. The darkness crashed loudly upon her as Cathy’s head hit the hard tile.
The high-pitched screaming of the teapot whistle snapped Cathy back to consciousness. She opened her eyes slowly. The light from the sun streaming in through the window stung her eyes. She moved her arms. They screamed in response.
Somehow, she managed to maneuver her legs up under herself. She cried openly as the pain in her arms threatened to toss her back onto the floor. With every ounce of concentration, Cathy turned the oven off. She stood there, shaking furiously. The monsters were gone, she knew, but she was still so afraid.
Inch by inch, step by step, she made her way to the table and sat down carefully in a chair. The sun from the window gently warmed her aching body. She felt a sort of healing strength flowing from the warm golden rays that enveloped her. Her eye caught a glint of light reflected off of an old leather cover.
What was that book? How could it have stirred such hatred and anger in the monsters? There was no doubt in her mind that it was that book that had caused the monsters to go ballistic; yet, they had not touched it at all. Cathy felt an aching jealousy and a longing to be in the place of that book. Slowly, she reached out and picked up the book.
It was sort of heavy, but the cool feel of the cover eased the burning ache in her hands. She recognized the book now; it was her mother’s Bible. Gingerly, Cathy gripped the book in both hands and opened it. Her eyes fell onto these words: (Ephesians 6:12) “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”
Cathy’s hands began to shake violently. The truth of those words exploded in her mind. The book was right.
“But how…how can I fight?” Cathy whispered to the silence in the room. She felt a tiny nudge in her mind to read more. Randomly, she flipped through the book. It was so big; she didn’t know where to start. Cathy glanced at the Table of Contents and ran her finger down the strange list of names. She paused for some reason on the Book of John and opened the book to the corresponding page number.
The reading was fascinating. It told of a God who loved the world so much that He sent His own Son to die for the inhabitants. Her active mind began to make the connections between the two realms of earth and the spiritual. Almost immediately, Cathy realized where the monsters came from.
By the time she had finished John, the sun had set. Cathy turned on the overhead lights and tried to think of what she should do. She felt drawn to this Jesus person that she had read about. Cathy flipped through the rest of the book. Everywhere she looked, there was His name. She turned back to where she had first opened and re-read Ephesians 6:24. Then she read all of chapter six.
By now, Cathy realized that she couldn’t get rid of the monsters on her own. Cathy thought about what she had read in this new book. Everything that it had said about the monsters, demons, was true. Then, perhaps the power of Jesus Christ was real, too. How could she tap into that power? Curious, Cathy opened the back of the Bible and glanced through the section titled “Concordance.” A word caught her eye...Salvation. Using the Table of Contents, Cathy painstakingly looked up and read all the references to Salvation. She closed the book with a loud clap.
Cathy looked around the room. She could feel the eyes of evil watching, waiting to see what she would do. Undaunted, yet trembling, Cathy put her hands together and intertwined her fingers. She looked up at the ceiling.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered. “Well, here goes.” Cathy took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“Jesus,” she murmured into the darkness of her mind, “I believe in Your power. Please come and help me; I’m scared.” Cathy felt a warmth flood through her body. She could almost feel big, strong arms gently wrapping themselves around her. Her nose picked up the scent of fresh green grass and a warm breeze softly blew through her hair.
She opened her eyes and looked around the kitchen in a new light. She wasn’t afraid anymore. The warmth flowed down and billowed inside of her body.
A snarl broke through the warm, happy silence.
Cathy watched as monsters appeared and began to circle around her. She just smiled at them and held the Bible to her chest. A bold one approached, claws outstretched. It reached to grab her right leg. Cathy watched calmly. Quicker than the blink of an eye, the monster was hurled across the room by a surge of unseen power. It crumpled into a heap on the floor and disappeared.
“Go on, get out of here,” Cathy hollered at the rest of them. “This house is no longer your playground. It is now under the covering of the blood of Jesus Christ!” Cathy took a deep breath, “You can’t have me anymore!” Her voice rose to a frenzied pitch, “I have a new Master, and by His blood…I am free!”
The monsters roared in disgruntled confusion. They backed away and one by one disappeared through the walls of the house. As the last one vanished, Cathy heard the front door open.
“Cathy?” It was her mom.
“Mom, you’re back early.” Cathy walked groggily over to her mother and threw her arms around her.
“Cathy,” Her mom held Cathy away from her and looked at her critically. “What happened?”
It was then that Cathy noticed the rips in her shirt at the shoulders. Frantically, she looked for any traces of blood. On each shoulder, a small white scar in the shape of a cross peered out from the rips in her shirt.
“Mom, I have something to tell you.” Cathy picked up her mom’s hand and led her toward the table. She placed her mom’s hand on the Bible. “Let’s sit down.”
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About the Author:
After four years at Roberts Wesleyan College, Melanie graduated in 1997 with a bachelor’s degree in her double major of English and Communication. Marriage and becoming a mother put her dream of being a full-time writer on hold. In order to keep up with all things written, Melanie has dabbled joyfully in freelance editing and proofreading work over the years. This dabbling has given her new excitement over the prospect of seeing her own writings published. She has the love and encouragement of her husband and two boys, and hopes to extend that love and encouragement to everyone around her. Melanie has a compilation of poetry, Climbing the Mountain: Inspirational Christian Poetry, available from Whiskey Creek Press (www.whiskeycreekpress.com) in both electronic and paperback format.
