The Unknown Fear

"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown."—H. P. Lovecraft

Every children's worse nightmare is attached to an unexplanatory occurrence that is thus created from an irrepressible nature. Boys and girls rarely lie when they are confronted, with such an indeterminate force of insurmountable horror—or so we are told. What you will read is the veracity of a version of events that had transcended, beyond the supernatural tales that young children are accustomed to dread at such a young age. There is nothing more spine-chilling than to be haunted, by the presence of a surreptitious being that hides, behind the opaque shadows that are indelible and intimidating in their form. There are certain fears of which are ingrained in our minds with their illusory manifestations, as there are those type of fears that are forever inherent in their origin, but remain a mystery hitherto. From the inhospitable chasm of irredeemable shadows was a lurking evil that will be revealed in this story, as the unknown fear.

It all began in a spring day of the year 1930 in the Midwest Town of Rock Island that evening, when a boy by the name of Peter Olsen had awakened from his horrific nightmare, sweating profusely and screaming suddenly. His mother Margaret who was in the other room had quickly come to the young boy's assistance. There was sheer terror seen in his eyes, as they were dilated and agog, when she had turned on the lamp. His mouth was agape. It had seemed that he had witnessed an ineffable ghost or something worse, but the boy could not speak. The incident had left him in a profound shock and unable to enunciate words that were effective to be clearly understood. It was unprecedented. The boy's father Walter was out of town on a planned business trip. The doctor was then summoned at once. When he arrived and had examined the boy closely, he could not determine what had caused this unique condition in the boy to manifest so blatantly. He had suggested that he should be carefully observed, for any other possible symptoms of an illness or abnormal behavior that could predict his outbursts.

Dr. Warner had told the mother, he would return in the morning to check on the boy. In the meantime, the boy had remained in his state of shock, mute and motionless for most of the evening. The little movements that he had displayed were to make particular expressions of fright or consternation. Just seeing how listless the reactions were in the boy had caused great concern in the mother. She had never seen her boy petrified in absolute terror. Whatever the boy had dreamed or seen was not only alarming, but it was as well convincing. Young Peter's eyes were constantly gazing at the wall or under the bed, as if he could sense the menacing presence of something or somebody near. What was exactly that something? It had to be either an object of tremendous allurement or an inventive flight of his world of imagination. The boy would seldom leave his bedside and would stay under his blanket, as long as he could.

There was no real progress in the boy to be distinguished in the evening. He had remained the same, and that began to preoccupy the mother even more. She had tried to feed the boy and make him drink, but the boy had refused and this would prompt her to become more unsettled in her solicitude. She knew that the boy could not continue in this distressing state of mind and body, without proper nourishment and water. She called on her husband, appealing to his fatherly instinct to return home at once, but Walter could not return until two more days. Mrs. Olsen was on her own for the time being. The night had prepared her an episode of a fret and scare that she would never forget, nor imagine of its consequential effect. As she was on the phone speaking to her mother, a vociferous screech would be heard. It was coming directly from Peter's room. She had scurried to his room and saw the boy totally horrified, within a posture curled up like a ball, as she had turned on the lamplight.

Peter's look of utter dread seen in his dilated eyes had disquieted his mother. She held him tautly in her arms and repeatedly asked what had caused him to scream in such a celeritous manner? At first, the boy was too fearful to utter a single word. The horripilation was demonstrated in the lineaments of his ashen-faced expressions. When she had insisted to know the reason for his impromptu reaction, the boy only muttered in a low whisper the word of "help". This disconcerting revelation had instantly sent palpable shivers down her spine. What was even more shocking would be the discovery of apparent bruises on the right wrist of the boy, as if he had been tied up unwillingly. Immediately, she had wondered why he had those unusual marks in the first place, and who was cruel enough to tie up the boy, since there was no one else present in the house at the time? Had a thief entered the house unbeknown to her she contemplated? There was something else; the boy had bruises on his toes, as if someone was pinching them. He also had scratches on his arms. Was this the sign of a sadistic game of perversion, or self-infliction caused by the boy?

She then called the doctor, who had told her that he would be there at their residence, as soon as he could arrive. He was tending to a patient, when he had received the frantic call. Once he had reached the house of the Olsens, he was led into the boy's room, where the mother was desperately waiting with immeasurable anticipation. She began to talk, but her speech was incoherent at times in its lucidity.

''Doctor, you have to do something. I am afraid I don't know what has happened to my son Peter."

Dr. Warner had attempted to appease the mother, "You must calm yourself Mrs. Olsen. If not, I can't understand you."

When she was able to regain her composure, she began to relate what she had found, when she had entered the boy's room, ''I was on the phone with my mother, when I had heard out of nowhere, Peter's bloodcurdling scream. I saw him dazed and unresponsive."

''I will see the boy and check on him."

The doctor had examined the boy's wrist and had concluded that the marks were probably the result of some type of rope being utilized, yet there was no obvious sign of a rope found near the boy or inside the room that could indicate the presence of a stranger. Beside the bed there was a ragged doll that had the shape of a girl. The question was, who had tied up the boy? There was something about the situation that was too mysterious and insoluble that the doctor could not fully determine the nature of this phenomenon. It had to have a logical explanation. Was even feasible that the boy had tied himself up or did someone else in the house tie him up with bad intentions, such as an unforeseen intruder? The oddity in that notion was the fact that nothing in the house had appeared to have been purloined or disrupted. As for the bruises on his toes and scratches on his arms, it was difficult to know what had exactly caused them. What was evident was the irrefutable terror seen in the eyes of the young boy Peter and the inauspicious consequences that would occur. It is said that evil has no singular name, except that of which people attach it to its veritable origin. It is in our darkest hour of fear that it appears in its unadulterated form and capacity. Its immemorial mythos has forever haunted us for countless centuries.

After further examination, Dr. Warner had suggested that the boy be monitored day and night by a professional nurse. It was too premature to take him to a facility that was a hospital, because there was nothing diagnosed about the boy's apparent condition that was known with a certitude. His condition had seemed more mental than physical, despite the bruised marks. The doctor had begun to suspect that the boy's affliction was to a great degree psychological in its embodiment. If this condition of his continued, then he would be forced to have the boy observed by a proficient psychiatrist. This was of little consolation for Mrs. Olsen, whose anxiety had increased. What was she to do in the meantime to prevent the boy from causing harm to himself or being harmed? The solution was not discovered, because it was uncertain what in particular had been causing, these strange episodes to appear in the boy.

As the days had passed, the boy's condition would remain the same, and his state of mind was being questioned. He would wake up every morning, with another bruise and scratch on his body. The parents of the boy would be disturbed, by the continuation of their boy's uncontrollable fears and incomparable nightmares. What the doctor or the parents could not know at the time was that these fears and nightmares were attributed to a transcendental horror that few people could ever understand, with the pursuit of the truth. It would take weeks before the eventuality of that realization would be presented to the Olsens and the doctor, in the form of the sinister being that was tormenting the boy. Within the house, there was a protagonist that was an external element of evil that was clandestine, within the realm of the caliginous shadows of the boy's mind.

The Olsens were reluctant to allow a nurse to be in the boy's room at night, but in the end, they had acquiesced when they saw the depleting condition that the boy was being reduced to its atrocious effects. They did not want to believe that the boy was self-inflicting himself, and the wounds were of his own creation devised. This would not explain the terrifying look on the boy's face. It had to be a thing that was much more than hysteria or panic. They were also burdened by the complexity of the problem and the boy's inability to reveal to them what was truly behind his immense fears. It was easier for them to see what was affecting the boy on the outside than to know with reason, what was affecting him from the inside, where his intrinsic demons resided consistently as an agent. His impetuous emotions were conspicuous. Ultimately, that was the key in solving the intricate enigma that was the boy's fears.

The night that the nurse was there in the room with the boy, she was unaware of the grim circumstances that had brought her there in the first place. How could she even fathom the unnatural phenomenon that had pursued the boy? As she was seated next to the boy's bed as he tried to sleep, she began to notice that the boy was actively moving in his bed and rolling from one side to another, as if there was something that was troubling him. He had displayed fits of spasms at one point. She had carefully watched over him, waiting to see what would transpire next. There was a cold air that had entered the room, and the lamplight was fading in its intensity. The nurse could not know that this was a portentous sign of the evil presence that was in the room then. A presence that would make itself visible and imperant in its dominion.

The Olsens were in the privacy of their room. Mr. Olsen was asleep, but Mrs. Olsen could not slumber or close her eyes, because of the gnawing anxiety of the unexpected suspense of what would befall upon the night. Neither her nor her husband could know the dramatic circumstance that would induce the horror thereafter. It was close to midnight, when an obstreperous and abrupt scream would be heard coming directly from Peter's room. When the Olsens had been awakened, they instinctively headed towards the room of their son. They had turned on the light to discover that the nurse Miss Hamilton was seated on the floor, with her eyes dilated, just like Peter's eyes were. They were blanched with insufferable terror that when they had tried to communicate to her, she was completely silent as was the boy. Whatever had terrified the boy, had consequentially terrified the nurse as well.

There was nothing that the Olsens could do to snap the nurse out of her immutable state of shock. Mrs. Olsen grabbed her attempting to rid her of her dread, but to no avail. Dr. Warner was summoned and when he arrived, he would be stunned to see that the nurse had succumbed to the same condition as the young boy Peter. The nurse would begin to tremble and release a maddening scream that was echoic. She would be escorted out of the room and taken to her house by way of an automobile. She would never be the same again and die afterwards devoid of her sanity. As for the boy, he had continued to deteriorate in his mental faculties. The Olsens felt helpless to prevent this, so did the doctor. He had never experienced something of this inexplicable nature before. It was a difficult case of some type of phenomenon that was clearly affecting his patient. The boy was administered a sedative to make him sleep. The parents had wanted answers from the doctor. It was impossible to be imperturbable.

"What is happening to our boy Dr. Warner? How do we recuperate him?'' Asked the helpless mother.

Dr. Warner was extremely puzzled, "I really don't know, but with your consent of course, I would like to study the behavior of the boy, in another setting that was foreign to him."

"Where exactly are you thinking of taking him? If you are thinking of a madhouse, then I will not consent to that, nor will my husband."

"I was thinking of taking him to my home, where I could observe him, along with a registered nurse day and night."

"Do you believe that he can be cured from this?"

"Only time will tell, but I will call a friend of mine, who is a psychiatrist from Chicago to examine the boy," the doctor said.

"You mean a shrink?" Replied Mr. Olsen.

"I prefer to call him a psychiatrist."

"When will you be taking Peter with you?" Asked Mrs. Olsen.

"Tomorrow, when I set up everything in preparation for his stay. Do I have your consent?"

"At this point, there is not much of a choice. My husband and I cannot do anything to prevent these horrible episodes that Peter is experiencing."

"Until we can determine what is affecting the boy, we will not be able to confront them, with the proper diagnosis and medication necessary."

Dr. Warner then left the house of the Olsens, with the grave impression in his thoughts that he was dealing, with something that was not normal or known to his studies and perspicacity. He was a dedicated man of medicine and of science, but this case with the young boy would be unparalleled to anything that he had ever seen before in his occupation. At his home, he thought only of how he could decipher the mysterious affliction that was dooming the young boy. He had called on a colleague to assist him in this complicated task. The boy was not eating properly, and his emaciated body could not be permitted to deteriorate at the detriment of his ailing health. Thus, he had concluded that he was doing the correct thing in his assumption. What the good doctor could not conceive was the dark nature of the concealed being that was terrifying the boy from the beginning. The inordinate episodes of fear would continue, and so would the immutable horror as it had revealed itself intrepidly.

Once the boy Peter was brought to the house of Dr. Warner, he had taken all the precautions that were necessary. The afternoon was windy and eerie, when the boy had finally arrived. The doctor had spent the morning reading on books that dealt with the topic of hypochondria and other mental illnesses. This was a thing that the doctor believed could be a plausible cause behind the boy's delusions or reactionary state of mind. If this was the actual cause, then it would have to be confirmed by the psychiatrist who he had called. The boy's listless expressions had not changed much. He was at least calm, but silent. He did not dare to utter much, nor did he smile much for that matter. He was observing this new place. The day had seemed inconsequential, with the exception of a telling thing that was, the intangible visitor that was not invited by the inquisitive doctor.

Dr. Warner did not want to impose on the boy, but he knew that he had to get him to react and regain his former self, before the boy would reach the state of non-return. The boy's comportment at the residence of the doctor was still peculiar and reclusive. He was constantly watching his surroundings with an attentive eye, as if he was expecting someone to emerge. Who was that anonymous person? The doctor would have to wait for that answer. The only thing that he could do was to contemplate in his mind, the narrow possibilities of curing the boy. He had accommodated the boy in one of the guest rooms, where he would be supervised by a registered nurse. The Doctor's immediate family was out of town, visiting the doctor's in-laws. There was no actual guarantee that neither he nor the psychiatrist would be capable of resolving the boy's inaccessible affliction.

The day would be simple, and the boy would be seated outside on a wooden bench, staring at the ample garden full of wondrous blooms, with a dull expression on his countenance. He was slowly regaining some of his quotidian senses that were once active in him. The doctor would observe him and perceive some measure of progress that was beyond his seclusive nature. There was a small glimpse of hope the doctor had believed, but that hope would be dashed, with the event that would take place upon that memorable night. The Olsens had telephoned to know, the ongoing situation with their son. Their significant concern had not abated, and they were very anxious to hear any good news disclosed to them. Dr. Warner had informed them that he was able to elicit sparingly, responsive emotions from their son that had involved his facial reactions. However, he did warn the Olsens that the prolonged sessions with the psychiatrist would ultimately convince the doctor of what the next course would be to take with Peter, due to the fact that some of his displayed behavior was also instinctive and mutable.

The boy was still reluctant to each much, but the little that he consumed, he would have to be sedated, so that his bouts of hysteria would not manifest, while he was in the process of eating. At times, it was like staring into the lifeless eyes of a zombie. The boy would drift in and out of conscious reality. This was the doctor's perception. He used his keen acumen to assist him in this efficient endeavor. Peter was just a boy of eight years old. Dr. Warner had a son of his age, and he could not imagine such horrific circumstances occurring to him. The nurse that was present had never experienced anything of this disturbing nature. Science in its practice against mental illnesses was still relatively in its evolving stage of exploration, when discussing the ponderous afflictions of the human mind. The boy's mind was operating, at an unusual pace of immeasurable panic and fright.

The psychiatrist would not arrive until the following day. In the meanwhile, the doctor along with the nurse would have to be on their guard with the boy. The doctor was aware that it was mostly during the night, when Peter would have one of his traumatic episodes of terror exhibited. The night would get worse for him. During the late hour that had preceded the arrival of midnight, the boy would begin to shiver in fear, as if he knew what was coming. He kept on looking under the bed. This was not the first time that the doctor had noticed that he was obsessed, with what could be exactly under the bed. He had the nurse check, and there was nothing to be found. Thus, for the moment, he had dismissed the relevance of what was under the bed and had concentrated more on what was troubling the boy at the core of his thoughts.

What the doctor did not realize was the fact that the boy was not in absolute control of what was occurring to him or his movements. Even when he had administered a sedative to the boy, he was still trembling to a lesser degree. With the passing hour reaching midnight, his shivers had increased and so did the confusion in the doctor. He had checked his temperature and there was no fever recorded, but his heart was rapid and so was his pulse. He could not administer another sedative until another hour had passed, for concern of causing harm to his body. When the hour had finally passed, he gave the boy another sedative. It was then midnight. The doctor had stepped out of the room to receive a telephone call. He thought to himself, who would be calling so late in the early morning? When he had answered it, all he heard was an incisive giggling. He hung up the phone and had returned to the room, where the boy was at. There was a deafening scream that had resounded throughout the corridors.

He had hurried his way to the room expecting the worse and had discovered the nurse on the floor, as the boy was shaking in his bed with his eyes dilated and fearful. The light of the lamp in the room was fading, but the moonlight glow was active. The windows were open. When the doctor had turned over the nurse, her eyes were completely white as a corpse-like phantasm. Something had sucked out completely the natural color from her eyes, like with the prior nurse. Terror had riveted her to an immovable rigidity. He then heard the giggling sound that was familiar to him. It was the same giggling that he had heard on the telephone previously. The sound was coming directly from under the bed. He was apprehensive at first to investigate, but then he gradually walked towards the boy's bed and proceeded to lift up the sheets that were covering the bed. He had kneeled to the floor and when he did, he found nothing that was existential. The only thing that was discovered was the familiar doll that was on the floor, demonstrating a devilish grin on her face and piercing eyes that looked deep into the doctor's eyes. The boy who had more apparent marks then began to giggle, until he had released a harrowing shrill that was maddening and bone-chilling.

The morning had arrived and with it, came the haunting realization that there was something much more than an unexplained phenomenon that was transcending. It was not a mere diagnosis of hypochondria, as the doctor had originally assumed. He had thought for a moment it could be some type of demonic possession or supernatural occurrence that was consuming the boy, with an impenetrable grip. It was impossible to know, until he had conversed with Dr. Turner, who was the psychiatrist he had summoned. It was important that he kept the boy alive and stable, until Dr. Turner's arrival. The sedative that he had applied would work for the time being, and Peter would close his eyes and sleep. Something that he had not done much recently. Regrettably, the nurse would never recover. She would go mad like the other nurse before her and die afterwards a fathomless death. It was not a mere coincidence. Whatever had frightened them had caused their irreversible insanity to the point of their unexpected death.

The day when the psychiatrist had arrived at the house, Dr. Warner had greeted him at the front door and informed him, about the terrible condition of the boy. Dr. Turner was eager to see young Peter and examine him at once. The boy was in his room, staring off at the sturdy walls that had surrounded him. He had that familiar, ghoulish look in his eyes. It was more than an indifference shown. It was the look of being lost within the emergence of reality. Immediately, this had concerned Dr. Turner, who upon examining the boy, had reached the conclusion that he was probably suffering from some type of imponderable effects of schizophrenia. Dr. Warner was not prepared to render the boy with a discommodating diagnosis. Something disturbing was obviously occurring to the boy that was no longer unsuspected. The contrariety of that notion would be ineffectual in its analysis. What he was in consentience was the fact that the boy needed mental treatment. It was impossible to not see, how the boy's volitivity was not being suppressed by something or someone that was conjured in his mind. They had discussed in privacy, the condition of the boy, and the brief intervals of his interactive responses.

"How are we going to regain the boy's mental equilibrium?" Dr. Warner had inquired.

"That is a good question Dr. Warner. I am afraid, there is very little we can do, except be patient and continue monitoring the boy's condition for the time being."

"In retrospection, I should have foreseen this predicament. Although I have never seen a case like this before in all my years as a doctor."

"Neither have I!"

"I just hope that the boy can still be cured."

"I will attempt to share a session with the boy. Perhaps, he will speak to me."

"I must admit that I have not be able to make him speak much in the way of words, but then again, I am not a proficient psychiatrist, as you are doctor."

"If we can only convince him that we want to help him. Perhaps, that will make the boy appear more receptive to our subtle approach."

"What if what we are facing is something more than science can reveal to us?"

"What do you mean by that doctor?"

"I am not a religious person by no means, but what if this was a battle between evil and good."

"I must incline to differ with that analogy. I believe that the boy's mind is dueling, with an inner conflict that he does not know how to overcome."

"But what if the boy really believes that he is possessed?"

"You mean by a demonic entity of some sort?"

"Yes!"

"Then it would be better that you find a priest. In the meantime, what we can do as men of science is to continue to observe his behavior."

At the risk of another unnecessary death, there were no more nurses that would be involved in the care and attention of the boy. This would be strictly a matter that was tended by both of the doctors with the utmost precaution. Little would they ever suspect that the night would prepare them, for a horrendous encounter with a subdolous being that was taunting the boy unmercifully. There are particular moments, when a figment of imagination can appear to be real and will manifest in the most undesirable manner conceived by the human mind. Dr. Warner was not certain that the boy was merely imagining all of these inusitate things that were occurring, but he was convinced of one thing, and that was that the boy knew his invisible foe that was tormenting him. If he was suffering from delusions, then how could they efface these unrestrained delusions from his intense thoughts, without jeopardizing his mental health?

There was no way in knowing, what the boy's actual response would be to any treatment imposed. The sessions that Dr. Turner would have with the boy Peter, were only an attempt at establishing the cause to the effects of his inexplicable condition. It was not a guarantee of resolving the problem. It was just a reliable method of communication with the boy that the doctor had assumed would be pivotal in the situation that was unfolding. The parents of the boy wanted to see him, but Dr. Warner had told them on the telephone that it was not advisable, since the boy was mostly sedated, or worse he could harm them both. The difficulty was knowing that the parents of the boy were desperate to see him return to his normal self and the halcyon days of his youth. They did not know precisely, if that was even achievable.

The intractable nature of the boy's comportment was mostly unpredictable, except when he was burdened by the presence of his ominous tormentor. It was regrettable to see a young boy of his age have to endure with such unbridled terror. To restrain the boy in a straight jacket would only make the boy become more aggressive or fearful, yet the thought had entered Dr. Warner's mind. It was horrible to accept that the boy could be sent to a distant asylum of insanity. The symptoms that the boy was displaying were somewhat in accordance to schizophrenia. However, it was not the only prognosis that Dr. Warner had determined. If the boy was indeed suffering from this unabatable illness, then time was of the extreme essence. How terrifying it must be to meet evil face to face and not know it by its authentic name in its presentation.

At around the late afternoon, just before the setting of the sun, Dr. Turner had begun his meticulous session with the young boy. The boy had been in and out of consciousness. When the doctor had sensed that was he was strong enough to be interviewed, then he started to ask the boy questions. He was confident that he could make the boy remember his past and confess his present time. Before he began, Dr. Turner had written down in his notes specifically, the type of questions he had in mind to ask. He wanted to have the boy in a tranquil state of mind, and he had sedated him, for practical purposes that were transparent. The boy was capable of uncontrollable fits of panic and fear. He was as well capable of causing harm onto others, as well as onto himself. He did not want to agitate the boy or stir his sanguine bodily temperament. There were no doubts in the mind of Dr. Turner that whatever was inside the boy would ultimately react, if provoked by threatening circumstances. He was a firm exponent of the veridicality of the practice of psychology.

The session began with the first question, "Do you recognize where you are at?"

The boy did not reply at first, but the doctor continued with his questions, "Do you know you are?"

The boy continued to be quiet. This made the doctor ask another question that could arouse the interest of the boy, "Your mother and father have spoken to me. They want you to come home. Do you not wish to go home Peter?"

It was precisely the reference to his name that made the boy react at last, "Peter?"

He then giggled and said to the doctor, "Peter is not here. It is someone else who you are talking to."

The boy's response had startled the doctor for a moment, until he had regained his composure and continued with his questioning, "Then where is the boy, and who are you that I might know of your name?"

"The boy is nowhere where you can find him. My name is not important, but if you must know, it is one of the oldest names of all in history—Lucifer."

The doctor wanted to learn more about this character that was Lucifer, "I see. It is rather an interesting selection. If you are Lucifer, then why do you need to possess the mind of a young helpless boy, if you are powerful enough to do for yourself?"

There was no immediate response from the boy. He would stop talking and look at the doctor, as he had giggled before him. The boy was indifferent to his questions. The session had ended abruptly for the time being, until the doctor could determine what other questions he could ask the boy, or the figure that was occupying the body and mind of Peter would cooperate. After the session he had stepped outside for a moment to speak to Dr. Warner about what had happened. His ability to discern the unusual habits in the behavior of the boy had allowed him to consider that the boy could be also suffering from split or multiple personalities at the same time. It was not unconceivable or far-fetched to Dr. Turner to make the practical assumption that the boy had demonstrated an acute form of conscious awareness. He wrote in his notes every word that the boy had uttered, and Dr. Turner was eager for the next session. He was not afraid of the boy's possible alter ego.

"Dr. Turner what did the boy say to you? You seem very occupied in your thoughts?"

"He claimed he was Lucifer in the flesh."

Dr. Warner was not prepared for that answer, "Are you being serious doctor?"

"Serious as I can be!"

"Do you believe that Lucifer is in him?"

"It is not what I believe that matters doctor, but instead, what the boy has convinced himself he is or has become."

"How do we make him believe that he is not Lucifer?"

"That will depend on the second session that I have with him."

"Can I observe the session?"

"Perhaps the one after that. I don't want to interrupt the rapport I have made with him."

The night had arrived, with a moonlight glow that was foreboding and eerie. It was the precursor to the lurking horror that would make its presence known. The boy had eaten and drunk to some degree, but was still acting in a bizarre manner that had been perceived by the doctors. Dr. Turner had made the decision to strap the boy in a straight jacket. It was not his intention to harm the boy, but to see whether or not the boy or the demon that he professed he was, would be challenged by this intrusive imposition. There was a screen interposed between the light from the lamp and the moonlight glow. The boy was sedated and gave no physical resistance to be strapped up, as if he was daring the doctor. The new session would initiate with another series of questions from the doctor. This time, the boy would be more direct and minacious with his choice of words. What had ensued thereafter would transcend the established comprehensibility of the human mind. A cold draft was felt throughout the room in which the boy was at. His body was cold and rigid, with the enervation of his pallor. His eyes were still dilated and creepy. The lamplight was turned down a bit, so that the boy would be able to concentrate.

"What are you thinking at this moment?"

"Do you really want to know doctor?"

"Yes!"

"I am thinking that you know nothing. You don't know who I am."

"It would be helpful to me, if you would tell me."

"I have lived for countless centuries. Long before man knew of my existence."

"Where do you come from?"

"From the depth of the chasm of hell!"

"Where is that at precisely?"

"Do you really want to know? Be careful of what you ask doctor."

"What about the boy?"

"What about him?"

"I asked one before, why do you need him?"

Once again, the being identified as Lucifer refused to answer. The doctor then tried to appeal to the boys' inner emotions, "Do you not miss your family Peter?"

"I have no family. You are cunning doctor. You are trying to use your psychological approach on me."

"Your mother and father miss you, Peter."

There was an immediate silence from the boy, then he released an unrestrained cachinnation. He would not answer questions anymore. Dr. Turner was still convinced that the boy was not possessed, but he was suffering from a mental illness that had created a split personality in him that could be associated to promnesia. When he had revealed the information to Dr. Warner, there was somewhat hesitance in him. How could a young boy be innovative enough to create this anonymous character that was so vainglorious? Was what elusive was the unspoken truth. The boy had displayed during all this time labile emotions, paralytic spasms, erratic behavior, lethetic thoughts, and fugacious moments of rationality, all of which were signs of the vicissitudes of the boy's struggle with life. Peter had an acute discernment and ability to use manipulation to convince the doctors in their presence. The doctors knew they had to be more punctilious, because the demiurgic thing that was occupying the boy's mind was unconciliatory.

As the night had progressed, the doctors were discussing amongst themselves, their difference in analysis and opinions. They were attentive, as they concatenated the succession of events that had caused the boy's apparent manifestations. His parents had called on the telephone, requesting to see the boy and to know his condition. Dr. Warner had informed them of what was occurring, but there was still no substantial change in their son. The doctor had told Mrs. Olsen that they could come the following day. There was nothing in the armamentarium of Dr. Warner that could assist him in the procurement of the cure for the boy's conflictive and mental instability that had resulted, from the inchoate nature of his affliction. Every little detail then was prepensed, in order to better comprehend the boy's conflicting ordeal. Our previous attempts with dealing with his non-pareil episodes of dread were less proficuous than reliable.

The doctors thought that they had witnessed everything surreal about the boy's behavior, but what was lurking surreptitiously on that unforgettable night to be revealed was much more than they could ever have suspected in their anticipation. They had both remained in the boy's room, as he sat drifting off into his world of a concoction strapped in a straight jacket, staring aimlessly at the window. Dr. Warner could descry this vivid aloofness in him. He could not bear to see the young boy strapped in a straight jacket. Thus, he had unloosened the seams that had fastened the boy, and he sought to allow the boy to be more comfortable. This would be a huge mistake. Instead of seeking relief for the boy, it would only commence the irrepressible terror that would ensue thereafter. It would also take the life of Dr. Turner.

When Dr. Warner was taking notes of the events with the boy seated in a chair of his desk, he had heard a distinguishable scream. It was the boy. Once the doctor had entered the room, he would discover that Dr. Turner was on the floor having a sudden convulsion that was killing him. His eyes had become blanched with fear and were losing their natural color. The window was wide open, as the glow of the moon had pierced through the opening of the window. The lamp had been broken, and there was little light inside the room. It was then that Dr. Warner heard unthinkable susurrations, but they were not coming from the boy. Peter was unable to speak. There was an opaque shadow that had then gradually emerged from underneath the bed and was cast on the wall, where the boy began to stare at the image. Peter had tried to help Dr. Turner. However, he was too late and so was Dr. Warner. There was nothing that they could do to have spared him from an agonizing and imminent death. It was as if for the first time Peter had returned and was himself. It was daunting to have to confront such a hideous realization, as he looked into Dr. Turner's alabaster eyes of death.

The boy somehow had been able to tear apart the straps of the straight jacket and began to fret in apprehension of the sempiternal being that was approaching with malevolent intention, as he had looked at the doctor. Deep down in his mind, he had tried to repress the unbearable presence, but his frail body of youth shook and shook like a ragged doll. As this was happening, the once intangible image had taken form in the imbuement of a sinister entity, with sable wings and sharp horns that protruded. It was Lucifer—or so Dr. Warner had been led to believe. The thing had a vermillion shade covering the shadowy figure from top to bottom. Sanguineous drops began to poor from the plaster of the sturdy walls. The howling wind had roared from outside the window with a fierce vengeance, as the window then broke into tiny, sharp shards of glass. The creaks of the door would scratch the surface of the floor, and the boy's bed would begin to tear apart from the middle, causing a large hole. The shadow of evil had abruptly departed from the window to never return again, as it released a harsh stridor. Thus, abated the unknown fear.

Essentially, what had transpired with the boy Peter and the so-called demonic being that was Lucifer was never fully understood by Dr. Warner, despite his contemplative attempts to rationalize the events and psychomachy. All he knew was, that it was an evil from the incipience of the boy's imagination that had transformed, into a sudden reality that was personified by the presence of Lucifer. The boy would somehow survive the night and recover from the attenuation that had racked his body for days that seemed interminable. In the morning, his parents would come for him and the Olsens would leave the area and relocate to another state that was miles away, from the Midwest Town of Rock Island, hoping to regain the placidity in their son. It was no longer home for them. Dr. Warner had meticulously documented the incident and on the request of the parents, the true events that had occurred with Peter were kept in secrecy.

It is said that evil has many names and that the deceptive monster from within us is the evilest of all, but I dare to ask the reader, would you believe me, if I told you that what Dr. Warner witnessed with his observant eyes as a doctor is primordial, as the god people worship? Perhaps what Peter was experiencing was truly a mental illness or a sign of a split personality at one point, but could a young boy of eight years old be intelligent enough to devise, such an insidious being that would haunt and possess his mind willingly? Science can only know what is within its limitations, as well as religion can know within its faith. Dr. Warner had discovered that the previous inhabitants of the Olsen house also had experienced this abnormal phenomenon with their daughter, who would be committed to an asylum afterwards in 1928. Apparently, this was related to the case of the boy Peter.

The white and black brick house of the Olsens would never be sold to any one, due to the extensive gossip and rumors of it being haunted, by a preternatural force of evil. The indisputable encounters with Peter would soon form part of an urban legend that was propagated by the townspeople. Dr. Warner would sometimes visit the house, and on one occasion he found another doll that had looked like a young boy. This would discompose him in his obfuscated thoughts, for the resemblance to Peter was unbelievable but exact. For years, Dr. Warner would ponder the one question that was never answered, why did the supposed Lucifer possess the boy with his unyielding control in the first place? The mystery was irreconcilable with the unmissable truth, as was the dénouement that was unraveled. There was something else that had unsettled even the good doctor, and that was the possibility of what if, the unknown fear would return one day to terrorize him?

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