She wrung her hands. "I don't know, hun. I've had to tell this story so many times...Maybe I should just start from the beginning." She paused. "Josh began acting strangely a year before last. I first thought that his behavior might be emotional. His father...em, he committed suicide two years ago, and Josh hadn't been the same since. I took him to several therapists, but once he started acting so out of character, I thought maybe I should take him to see a doctor."

She paused. The woman took a slow, deep breath to continue. "It started off with little things. He reacted aggressively when he didn't get his way. He would try to hit me, or even his friends and teachers at school. He got suspended several times. And then he stopped sleeping normally, and his whole personality changed. Whenever we went to a doctor, he seemed perfectly normal. His MRIs were clear and his therapist said he was making great progress. Then I started hearing him talking to himself in his room, in a voice that wasn't his. I thought maybe he had snuck someone into the house, but whenever I caught him doing it, he was alone. Things started happening around the house and I...I just had a feeling that this wasn't something that could be explained by doctors or medicine."

Barbara stopped there. She knew she probably sounded crazy. This woman had no reason to believe her. But she knew what she had witnessed.

"So...I started looking within my faith for answers. When the first priest came, Josh just growled and snarled at him like a dog. The priest couldn't do anything for him, so he recommended I call a colleague of his. When he came, he brought another priest with him. They did all they could, but Josh ended up attacking the older man and giving him a nasty bite on his arm. He suggested that I had Josh restrained and left to go to the hospital. I can only assume that word got around, because after that, no one else would even try to see my son. That was when I got the e-mail from Isaac Partway. I was so desperate, that I didn't spend time thinking about the situation; I just wanted it to be over."

Her frail voice broke at the end of her words. Barbara was now alone. No family, no friends, nothing but a meager job and her husband's life insurance to get by on.

A pain acked in Evie's chest upon hearing the story from one of the sources. This poor mother, trying everything to keep her family together only to lose her son as well. Truly alone in the world without anyone else.

"The strange happenings in the house, what were they exactly? Did you set up anything to record them? Evidence of any kind?" She inquired. Perhaps she had footage of the mysterious man which could help further the investigation.

"I didn't record the exorcism," She said. "Mr. Partway was very specific about there being no cameras. I do have a few tapes from before, though..." She stood and walked across the room to a bookshelf, which was in dusty disarray. Barbara lifted a small box full of Hi 8 tapes. Each one was labeled with painter's tape and handwriting:

"Noises from the hallway"
"Josh's room, 2:45 AM"
"Strange voice in Josh's room"
"Josh in kitchen, 10PM"

The box, much like everything else in the room, was dusty and obviously hadn't been moved in quit some time. "I don't need these around anymore," She said softly, handing Evie the box. "You can just have them."

"Thank you, Mrs. Renolds. I'll do my best to bring the man into the light and hopefully bring you some peace." Evie said as she took the box. She silently prayed the tapes wouldn't be damaged after sitting in dust for a while. Hopefully Carlos could help salvage them for her. Of course, he wasn't going to do it for free. She stood and started heading to the door, giving the woman one last glance.

"Josh wouldn't want you to keep mourning him, he'd want you to remember him and keep living your life." She said, giving her a little smile before leaving.

___

Almost an hour later, Evie knocked on the door to Carlos' apartment. "Carlos! Come on, buddy, I got something for you to work with!" She exclaimed. That and she wanted to be inside where it was safer. Carlos lived in the bad side of town where drug dealers, hookers, and gangs roamed freely. A woman like herself was an easy target. "Carlos!" She shouted, banging on the door.

"Alright!" Carlos exclaimed as he opened the door, staring blankly before groaning. "No. No. No, no, no, no. I'm not doing any more favors." He said as he walked away, clearly just done.

"Oh, come on, Carlos, you're the only guy I know who can salvage these tapes!" Evie begged as she followed him.

"No! The last time I did, it turned out to be a copy of Guys Gone Wild! Do you know how hard it was to explain to Mama when she walked in on that?" He asked, pointing at her.

"How was I supposed to know?" Evie shot back, placing the tapes down before folding her arms. "Please, Carlos, just this once. I'll even give you credit in the article!"

Carlos glared at her for what felt like hours. "Fine. Fine. But this is the last time I'm helping you, entendido?" He said.

Evie smiled widely before hugging him. "You're the best, Carlos." She said before leaving him to get started.

"Yeah, yeah yeah." He muttered before looking over at the tapes.

"Oh my God." Evie said softly after looking over the videos a few days later. Carlos had been pale when he dropped them off, muttering something about demons and praying constantly. Now she understood why Barbara was so terrified of what happened with her son's behavior. She replayed the first tape, trying to decipher something she could understand.

"Come on, give me something. A clear voice, a language, anything." She whispered as she listened. Nothing. She sighed softly before listening again to the third tape, again trying to hear something amongst the croaks. She finally admitted defeat before looking over at the notes she had scribbled down. Issac Partway...that name sounded familiar to her but she couldn't place it. A memory that was trying to form.

She grab her phone before calling the church he was supposedly with. She just hoped it wasn't a dead end. "Hi, I'm Evangeline Williams with the Beacon Press. I was wondering if I could speak to Issac Partway."

The church office was empty when George walked in, save for a familiar dark head poking up from the top of a laptop. "Good afternoon, Lars," the portly older gentlemen said cheerfully.

Lars looked up from his work. "George." His greeting was curt, and far less inviting.

George frowned a little at the younger man, and went to sit down at his own computer by the phone. "I left a pamphlet on your desk. I was hoping you could speak at that event next week."

Lars paused. "The refugee support group?" He asked, picking his head up.

"Your story would be an inspiration for them," George pressed, turning to face him with a smile.

"Can't. It's at 7pm. You know I can't go out after dark."

George suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable. "Right." He cleared his throat. "I must have forgotten." He turned away, just as the phone rang. He picked it up. "Our Lady of Sorrows Cathedral, this is George Walters speaking. How can I help you?"

His breath hitch slightly at the mention of a name he never cared to hear again. His eyes darted to Lars, then quickly back to the phone. "No. We don't have anyone working here by that name. I'm sorry."

"Oh." Evie said, surprised and a little disappointed. "Well do you know his personal number or an address perhaps? I'd like to ask him a few questions about what happened a year ago at the Renolds residence." She couldn't let the lead grow cold now, not while she had something.

"Or maybe you know something about the gentleman who was with him that night? His name, any relatives he might have, something." She added, grasping for something for him to say.

"I don't know what you're talking about ma'am, I'm sorry," George insisted. He was a terrible liar. And now Lars was looking at him from across the room.

"You're welcome to come to our Sunday mass at 8 AM tomorrow if you like," He was trying to play it off to throw the other priest's suspicion.

Shit. Evie cursed to herself, knowing he was either too afraid to speak or trying to ignore what happened that day. But why cover up the fact a boy died during an alleged exorcism as well as the people involved? It didn't make any sense.

Upon hearing the invitation to join the mass tomorrow, Evie agreed and thanked him before hanging up. "Curiouser and curiouser." She whispered, quoting one of her favorite lines from Alice. She looked over the written articles, pictures, and current still frame of the first tape of the shadow. It looked human but things were off.

She sighed softly before ordering take out, deciding to let her mind rest for a moment.

"Who was that?" Lars questioned as soon as George hung up the phone.

"Just a woman confused about our services. She seemed nice."

George knew Lars could see right through his lie. After all, he had all but taken the younger man in when he was just fourteen. The church had been Lars's home for 16 years. He never imagined that the withdrawn and skittish teen would one day grow into a man that he halfway feared. Lars's dark eyes penetrated him for a moment too long; George could feel them on his back. But the other priest finally looked back at his work, dropping the conversation.

Evie had gotten up early to arrive at the church, filing in with a few other early birds. The building was beautiful; wooden benches, breathtaking stained glass windows, wonderful architecture. Evie was impressed but didn't let it get in the way of her real mission. She looked around for one of the priests, hoping someone would answer her questions.

Spotting black robes, she made her way over to them. "Excuse me, Father Walters? Evangeline Williams, we talked on the phone yesterday." She said, holding her hand out towards the man in greeting.

A text binged on her phone. It was from Joe.

Joe: Dont say i never gave you nothing
www. Beaconnews/25reward/manwithnomouth. com

The link lead to the Beacon News website, to a newly posted page.

"Have you seen this man? $25 reward for images or footage captured of the man without a mouth."

The ad was pure genius. It beckoned the citizens of New York to keep their eyes out for the man, and would reward a genuine photo of him 25 dollars a pop. There were already a few 'sightings', but they were all clearly bogus. Perhaps it would stir up enough talk to pull something genuine, though. Maybe Joe had a soft spot after all.

Back in the current world, the church was bustling with clergy. Father Walters was speaking to another olderly gentleman when the woman approached him. The man said his goodbye and excused himself, and Father Walters turned to look at Evie.

"Oh, well, I'm very glad you came," He smiled politely and took her hand to shake it. He didn't seem all that glad, though. Maybe even a little nervous. He hadn't thought she'd actually show up.

"Well...let's not talk out here. Why don't you come with me?" He beckoned her towards his shared office. Lars wouldn't be there; he always made himself scarce when the church was full. Father Walters held the door for her to let her in, then shut it behind. He sat down at his desk, and motioned for her to sit in one of the chairs on the other side of it.

"Now. What is it you would like to ask me? And where on Earth did you get that name from?"

"Mrs. Renolds mentioned his name to me as a lead. I thought I'd try contacting him here, but you said there's no one by that name who works here." Evie replied as she sat down, grabbing her recording device.

"Do you mind, or would you rather remain anonymous for the article?" She asked, respecting whichever he chose. She just wanted a few answers and a possible better lead than just a name.

"He isn't affiliated with this church, or any other church for that matter," Father Walters said, his tone almost grim. "He's a freelance exorcist, and I can't condone his actions. Or you looking for him." He looked at the tape recorder and shook his head. "I don't want my name mixed up with him, and you shouldn't either. Whatever report you're trying to build, I would suggest dropping it, for your own safety."

"My own safety?" Evie echoed before the warning Mrs. Renolds told her repeated in her head about the man. "You mean the man Partway was with that night. What do you know about him? Has he done anything like this before?" She asked, curiosity getting the better of her. She couldn't help it, it was a dangling carrot before a hungry horse.

"Please, all I want is clarity of what happened that night for myself and Mrs. Renolds." She pleaded.

"I have only heard of the case from others that I work with. I don't know Partway or his business partner personally, nor do I wish to." George shook his head. "And I'm afraid they are the only two people who know for certain what happened to that boy that night. Exorcism is a tricky subject, and not without it's risks. I attended years of schooling before I was certified myself. These freelancers....we don't know where they got their training, or if they even trained at all."

He paused. "I don't...I don't believe they murdered Mrs. Reynold's son. I honestly believe what happened was an accident. But that doesn't make it any more right. Now, I have my mass to lead." He stood, and gathered his notes. Father Walters gave her a polite smile before excusing himself.

The hallways outside of the office had cleared, save for one man. Another, younger priest was walking towards them. Father Walters gave Lars a polite smile as he passed by, but continued on his way to the atrium. Lars stopped at the door when he saw Evie, and smiled at her.

"Good morning," He said in a polite and warm enough tone, before making his way to his own desk and having a seat.

Great. Another dead end with no possible leads. Hopefully something comes up with the pictures. Evie sighed, grabbing her things. She let out a little yelp before seeing a man younger than Father Walters but a little older than herself standing there. "Morning. Sorry, I didn't know you arrived." She said, starting to head out before stopping.

She turned to him, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "I don't mean to bother you, but...what can you tell me about Isaac Partway?" She asked, hoping he was more open than Father Walters.

Lars was in the middle of typing up notes for the next Sunday's mass when she asked him the question. He paused, then gave her a wry smile. "I don't believe George would be happy about me speaking on the subject," He said. The man clearly knew something, but he wasn't likely to share. Not if it further strained his already tense relationship with his mentor.

"What was your name? I'm afraid I didn't catch it."

Lars was in the middle of typing up notes for the next Sunday's mass when she asked him the question. He paused, then gave her a wry smile. "I don't believe George would be happy about me speaking on the subject," He said. The man clearly knew something, but he wasn't likely to share. Not if it further strained his already tense relationship with his mentor.

"What was your name? I'm afraid I didn't catch it."