The Woman in the Park

Part One: The Stranger in the Park

Jeremy Cadwallader was walking past the old Walnut Street Theater just after ten o'clock in the evening. He knew this because he heard the bell in the old statehouse announce the hour. He had worked late that day and decided to go to a pub to unwind. He had been doing that increasingly since his wife died in childbirth. Their house in Society Hill seemed too quiet, too dark, too solitary. He only liked to be there just long enough to sleep.

His companions were the same as they always were at this pub; some of his partners and assistants from work, some peers from other companies. There was one queer man sitting in the corner. He occasionally looked at Jeremy with a look that seemed to penetrate him but then returned to his drink. After three ales, Jeremy decided he had stalled enough, bid his friends good night, and departed. He felt the stranger's eyes on him as he left.

Jeremy crossed the street and entered Washington Square, shivering as he did so. He knew from the lore that this was, once upon a time, this was used as a potter's field going back to the earliest days of the city. The idea of walking over graves made him uneasy. But the diagonal path would cut a few minutes from his journey, and with storm clouds brewing he did not want to delay.

As he approached the center of the square, he noticed a figure coming toward him. Another late-night wanderer. The dress she was wearing had seen better days but once was fashionable. Her face was obscured by a knitted shawl. Jeremy tipped his hat to the woman and prepared to pass when she grabbed his arm.

"She calls to you," said the woman.

"Pardon me?" asked Jeremy.

"Your wife. She calls to you."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Jeremy freed his arm and attempted to proceed when the woman spoke again.

"Abigail walks beside you."

Abigail was his wife.

"How do you know her name?"

"She told me. She tells me things now."

In spite of himself, Jeremy was intrigued.

"What does she say?"

The woman stared at him for a second. "I can help her to talk to you."

"How?"

"Bring me to your house."

"Now?"

"Or never."

Jeremy looked at her for a second. A primal instinct told him that the look in her eye was not friendly. And he should move.

"I'm sorry. I bid you good night."

He turned to walk. The woman reached out and grabbed him by the arm. He winced as her fingernails pierced his skin. He looked back and found himself staring in her eyes.

"I implore you sir. Your Abigail walks in the shadows. Only your love can aid her to the light."

Jeremy looked at her. For some reason, the instinct that was warning him away fell silent. He could only nod dumbly, and together they walked through the square.

They turned onto Spruce Street, and they entered his home, two doors away from the old Powell House. Jeremy looked around as he did; those in the neighborhood knew of his domestic situation. He didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea.

She stood in the vestibule and looked around.

"Is there a lower level to this abode?" she asked.

"Yes. There is a basement."

"Lead me there."

"Wait a moment. I need to check in with Anna."

"Anna?"

"My son's nanny. Anna"

"Does she live here?"

"No." As much as they both would like it, the idea of a man and a woman living together without marriage would, in this era and his level of society, incite people to talk. It briefly occurred to Jeremy that he was not worried about people seeing him walking with this strange woman and inviting her in, but that thought quickly dissolved.

"Then dismiss her. I shall wait in the dining room."

She pinched his arm one last time. She then left him. Jeremy assumed that since many houses were built with the same plans, she could find her way on her own. He then ascended the stairs to the nursery.

Anna was barely a woman of eighteen. She had long brown hair styled in modern fashion. And like the women of their era, she was covered entirely from head to toe. She looked up from the book she was reading and smiled.

"Good evening, sir."

"Good evening, Anna. I'm sorry for the lateness of the hour."

"That's alright sir. Andrew went to sleep easily tonight. I enjoyed the silence."

"Nonetheless, I apologize. How far is your home?"

"Only a few blocks. Maybe a ten-minute walk. I'll be fine."

"Very well, then."

With that Jeremy leaned over to kiss his child and then walked Anna down to the door. There was always a strange moment when she prepared to depart, as though there was something she wanted to say but was afraid. She would normally smile, nod and depart into the night.

Tonight though, Anna's gaze left Jeremy and wandered the darkened house.

"Is there someone else here?"

"Yes. I have business after you leave." Anna opened to speak, but Jeremy interrupted her. "It's not your concern, Anna. I will be fine. Now, they will be worrying about you at your house. I've kept you long enough. Have a good evening, my dear."

Anna looked for a moment like she was going to protest but, realizing the futility of such an endeavor, held her tongue. She slipped through the door, and into the night.

Without thinking, Jeremy turned back into the house. He walked slowly to the dining room. He found his strange guest sitting at the head of his dining room table. She had removed the shawl from her head, revealing a face that should be beautiful, but had something amiss.

"Are we alone?" she said.

"Except for my son, yes. He's upstairs sleeping."

"Good."

She stared at him, allowing the silence of the house to engulf him.

"You said you could help me to talk to my Abigail."

"I can."

"Why?"

"To ease your soul. And hers."

"That is kind of you. What's in it for you?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing."

"Yes."

Something about that statement didn't ring true. The woman stood up and took his arm. Again, he felt the pinch.

"This is my purpose on this earth. To assist the ease of souls. You have no idea how much turmoil a turbulent soul can cause. Especially an unbodied one."

"My Abigail is not in heaven?"

"The spirit realms are not as taught in your Sunday schools. It is not just heaven and hell There are many realms. It is possible for a soul to become lost. When that happens, an intervention is required. We can do that for your Abigail."

Jeremy nodded. Accepting, not understanding.

"What do we do?"

The woman reached into a bag hanging from a belt on her person and pulled out some chalk.

"I have everything we need. I will draw a circle of protection on the floor. Take me to your cellar."

Without a word, he led the way to the steps, first turning on the light. His home was one of the first houses in Philadelphia to have electric lights. They entered the cellar, which was noticeably empty. Only a work bench was there, gifted to them by her father, a carpenter.

She looked around the space and then laid her eyes on him. "Now, you must remove your clothes."

"My clothes?"

"Yes."

"I must be naked?"

The woman stared into his eyes and began to remove her own clothes.

"Yes. We must be skyclad. Modern fabrics will affect the energies required. Do you wish to aid your Abigail?"

"Of course."

"Then put your modesty aside and disrobe."

To punctuate the last point, the woman allowed her dress to slide down her body. She wore no undergarments. She stood before Jeremy as the day she was born. He should have been aroused; the woman had a slim build, lovely breasts and hair only on her pubis (he had to admit that he preferred a hairless woman, although that was not the style of the day). But again, something about her countenance prevented it.

The woman then stepped forward and pinched his arm once more.

"It is just you and I," she said softly. There was none of the condescension that punctuated her earlier remarks. "I know that I am the first since she died. You were faithful to her in life, and you continue to be so after. Death did not do you part. But what we do tonight can aid her."

Her hand left his arm and went to his sex. She squeezed but did not hurt him. He felt himself responding to her touch, growing in her grasp. He did not feel shame. He looked into her eyes and wordlessly began to disrobe.

He took longer than she; he dressed in the normal manner. As he discarded an article, she took it and placed it on the work bench, folded properly.

Soon, he stood fully nude. His cock was growing although not quite erect His hand went to cover his sex, but she brushed it away.

"Modesty will not aid her. Or you."

Her thumb stroked the top, and he felt his cock respond in a positive manner. It continued as she left him and lit candles with a strange aroma, and even more as she knelt and drew a circle around the table. He watched her as she traveled, crawling in a manner that exposed herself between the legs.

She finished the circle behind Jeremy, but he didn't look. He heard the floorboards creak as she stood up and moved around him. She pressed her body close to his, the pressure exciting his cock even more. She slid down his body, and she took him in what he could only describe as the French fashion.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt sensations alien to him. This was not something that Abigail would ever do for him. He found himself enjoying it.

He opened his eyes, though, when he felt a gust of cold wind. He was surprised to find the room had darkened, but only on the edges of the circle. He was startled to see figures standing watch on the outskirts.

"Who are they?" he inquired.

The woman removed him from her mouth. "They are here to aid us. They are drawn by our acts."

"Our acts?"

She stood up. Her hand held him firm. "Lust and sexual satiation interest those on the other side. They gather when we fuck. We can ask them what they wish. Maybe your Abigail is among them."

A part of Jeremy felt shame at the thought; the idea of his wife seeing him like this not how he pictured their reunion. He then felt two sensations: another pinch on his arm, and a tug on his cock, pulling him in closer to the woman, who reclined on the dining table.

She spread her legs, revealing her entrance to Jeremy. "We must appease them now. And in return they will give us what we want." She turned around, exposing her back to him but keeping her legs open. "Enter me, good sir."

There was a humming rising from outside the circle. The aroma from the candles made Jeremy's head whirl. But his cock remained hard.

"Is this...?" he started.

The woman's hands went onto her arse, spreading her cheeks. "The path is before you, sir. Take it!"

He took his cock in one hand, her thigh in the other. He was aiming and preparing to thrust when he heard commotion from behind him. He heard a man shouting in a language which Jeremy only vaguely recognized.

"Take me now!" he heard the woman scream. When he did not immediately do so, he felt her back up, trying to insert him into her. This failed. He then felt rough hands grab him from behind, and a cloth with another strange odor placed over his face. The last thing is saw was two men grabbing the woman, both holding small silver crucifixes before her. Her countenance showed both anger and fear.

The last thing he heard was her screaming obscenities when he passed out.

Part Two: Exorcism

Jeremy roused with a slight headache. He lay still for a moment as the pain subsided. He opened his eyes to complete darkness, but as his eyes adjusted, he saw he was in a bare cell. There were a few crates along the walls, their contents unknown to him. He lay on a bed that might be seen in a prison.

Jeremy swung his legs over the side and stood up. That was a mistake; he was still feeling lightheaded and a hand went to the wall. He looked down and realized that he was naked. He felt confusion and shame as events of the evening returned to him.

Without warning, the door opened, causing light to enter the cell. Jeremy put one hand to shield his eyes, the other went to his shame. A woman in a nun's habit entered. His state of undress did not seem to register.

"Come with me, Mr. Cadwallader," she said matter of factly, "your presence is required."

He turned to drape a cover over him, but she stopped him.

"No, Mr. Cadwallader. You may not have clothes. Not until this evening's events are finished."

She walked out into the hallway and he followed her. They were in some form of subterranean location. Jeremy was grateful that the passage was well swept; he managed the short journey without injury to his feet.

The nun led Jeremy into a brightly lit, circular chamber. His eyes went wide when he investigated the center of the room; he saw the woman in the center. She was still naked but kneeling, she was bound by two chains fastened to the floor. She was breathing heavily, her face a mixture of anger and fear.

On either side stood two men. One was a priest in a diocesan uniform. The other was the man Jeremy had seen in the pub.

"Come in, Mr. Cadwallader," said the man from the pub. Jeremy did so, and was grateful to find the room warm. He stepped closer to the center of the room. He noticed there were crucifixes along the wall.

"Where am I?" asked Jeremy.

"Not far from your home. We are in the catacombs beneath the cathedral. By the way, your child is currently at the convent. He is perfectly safe."

Jeremy nodded, relieved though still confused.

"I apologize for your nudity," the man continued. "It is necessary for now."

"Why?" asked Jeremy.

"Because of our friend here," he said, pointing to the woman. "You had sexual congress with her, correct?"

"Almost."

"She had your cock in your mouth, didn't she?"

"Yes."

"Sister Tabitha, inspect him."

The nun came over and ran her fingers over the trunk of his body. She knelt before him and inspected his cock, then lifted it and inspected his scrotum. He did feel it grow slightly at his touch and felt a little shame at that. He felt more when she went behind him inspected his posterior, even having him bend over. She then went to his arms and found several scratches.

"Father," she said, calling the man from the pub to them.

"Father?" asked Jeremy.

"Yes, Mr. Cadwallader, although you will not have heard of my order. We do not dress like a priest. We do not take the same vows. Think of us as foot soldiers in a greater battle." He said this while inspecting his arm. "How did you acquire these?"

"I don't know. I think she may have caused it."

"She did?"

"She pinched my arm several times."

"I thought so. There was a poison on her nails."

"A poison?" Jeremy looked startled.

"It's called the Devil's Coax. We found traces on her fingernails. It quiets the mind. Makes the victim pliable."

"I did occasionally feel concern."

"And she reapplied, didn't she?"

"I believe so."

"So, your soul is safe. Nonetheless, you are tainted. That is why you remain without clothes."

Jeremy felt shame at this. His nudity and these words made him feel lesser than.

"How do I reclaim them."

"By assisting us."

"Don't listen to them, Jeremy Cadwallader. They mean harm to both of us."

The nun came over and placed a gag in her mouth.

"What is she?"

"We believe she is a witch, who is possessed by a demon. A succubus,"

Their eyes turned to the woman chained in the center. At the nod from the older man, the young priest picked up a plug like object and moved to the woman. The nun came and pushed her head down, laying her thigh on the woman's back to keep her down. The man guided Jeremy to the opposite side.

"Witness," said the man plainly.

After another nod, the young priest inserted the plug into the woman's ass. Even with the gag in her mouth, the woman's screams at this intrusion were loud. She writhed and twisted but the chains held strong.

"The plug is made of iron," said the man. "Demons do not like iron. And it was sprinkled with holy oil. It reminds them of what they lost and can never regain."

After a few moments, the woman stopped struggling and started to whimper. Jeremy felt sorry for her. She looked at him with tears in her eyes.

Jeremy felt the urge to help her and started to move, but the man put a hand on his arm.

"No, Mr. Cadwallader. Do so and you may bring doom to us. And the poor soul still inside that body. No, our methods will be the only thing to save her. And you."

The nun took out what Jeremy would eventually learn was a scourge and handed it to the young priest, who started to run the instrument over her back. The woman continued to whimper in fear. With a sudden movement and a crack, the priest pulled back and struck the woman in her arse. Even gagged, the woman's scream was shrill. The priest did so again, and the scream continued. The priest's aim rose from the woman's ass to her lower back. Red bruises began to rise on her back. Finally, he rose to the shoulders and with two quick strikes, ended the scourging.

The nun came over with a container of water and poured it on the wounds. The woman began to convulse.

"Holy water," explained the man.

A stockade was brought into the room by the young priest, and placed before the woman, who looked confused. The young priest released the chains on her arms. With the help of the nun, he placed the woman in the stockade. He then two chains fastened to the ceiling and stung up the woman. She was now totally suspended in the air. Jeremy found himself strangely aroused by this, and felt some shame that, in his nakedness, that arousal would be visible.

The man looked down at his arousal. "Good. It seems we are halfway there."

"Excuse me?" asked Jeremy.

"This succubus gains power from dominance. She feeds from your strength. The only way to save yourself, and the mortal woman, is to establish dominance over her."

"How?"

"Let us move behind her."

As they did so, they watched her struggle. A small breeze blew in the room. The lights at the corners began to dim.

"The demon inside her knows what is about to happen. Fortunately, these walls have been blessed several times; her power is muted."

While he was saying this, the young priest knelt under the woman and applied clamps to her nipples. She tried to struggle, but when the nun placed an iron crucifix on her back, she fell still. She closed her eyes and again began to whimper.

"She knows what is about to happen. We must do it quickly."

The man gave a nod to the nun, who came before Jeremy, and began to massage his cock. He felt himself respond quickly, and this time he felt no shame at his erection. He looked over and saw the young priest do something similar between the woman's legs. Between the ministrations of the nun and the view before him, Jeremy felt himself come to peak erection quickly. The nun then rubbed her hands with holy water and spread it generously over his cock.

"The time is now, Mr. Cadwallader. Establish your dominance over this force of darkness."

With that prompt, Jeremy stepped between her legs. He was pleased to find that she was suspended at the proper height. He quickly found her entrance and pushed himself inside, feeling her envelope him. Fortunately, at this point, years as a married man (as well as soldier away from home) took over and he began to move back and forth inside of the woman. As he did so, the woman alternated between growling, crying, and speaking in a language that Jeremy did not recognize.

While he took her, both the man and the young priest walked around them, chanting a prayer in Latin and spraying holy water on the couple. Each time a drop fell on the woman, she screamed as if stabbed. And each time she screamed, he felt her vagina tighten around him. When that happened, Jeremy would find it hard to continue, but he would push through and regain his rhythm.

After a short period, Jeremy noticed the growls and the voice grow deeper and the speaking less human. He pushed harder as he felt himself come close to completion. Just before he came, he remembered something he had been taught in a Bristol brothel and pulled her hair. With a groan, he closed his eyes into the woman.

"I'm sorry, Abigail," he said. "I hope you are safe."

When he opened his eyes, he was shocked to discover black smoke coming from the woman's mouth.

"Don't stop, Mr. Cadwallader," shouted the man. "The demon is leaving her."

Jeremy continued to push until he felt himself spent and then stepped back and fell on his arse. He watched the black smoke swirl in the air, until it finally dissipated through the ground.

"The demon has returned to Perdition," said the man. "This woman is free."

The woman was crying, but it was a different kind. The nun and the young priest released the woman's legs from the shackles and then opened the stockade. She was almost deadweight in their arms as they took her out.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." she muttered softly. They sat her in a chair. She looked around for a moment and began to cover herself with her hands.

"This is the true woman," said the man equally softly. "The demon is gone."

Jeremy nodded and then fell asleep.

Part Three: A Goodbye and A Hello

Jeremy was lying in bed. He was naked and uncovered; he couldn't remember the last he wore clothes and he certainly couldn't remember why he would. He felt fingers on his leg, then his cock and then a line from his navel to his chest. He looked up and was astonished to see his Abigail.

"Hello Jeremy, my brave, brave, man," she said to him. "You are good. You are safe."

He noticed that she was also naked. She looked down at herself and smiled. "We should have spent more time like this."

"I agree," he said. "I wish this was real."

"Oh, but it is," she said. "The other side is not as we were taught. There is a Heaven and there is Hell, but there are other realms. And other ways to stay. I never left your side."

"Was she telling the truth?"

"The Lilith" she asked. "No. But the demon inside her saw your turmoil. Knew you would be vulnerable. The dark beings are often blind to the light. I had warned the Iscarion."

"The who?"

"The Iscarion. The man with whom you were with this evening. His order has something of the sight. That is why he was at the pub. That is how he and his brothers knew to come to you." She smiled. "I was even able to communicate where you hid the spare key."

"I wish we could talk like this forever."

"That would not be good. You are still of the living, and your mind must be with the living. Not the grave. We shall be together as one in due time, but you have our child to raise. I will be with him."

"I miss you."

"I know. And that is alright. But your solutions are already placed in your life. You just need to allow yourself to see it."

She leaned in and kissed Jeremy on the lips. Her hand stroked his cock as she did so; he felt it rise at her bidding.

"Goodbye, my love. It is time to rouse."

"Wait, I..."

Once again, Jeremy woke in darkness. Once again, he found himself in a dark room. Once again, he was naked. But this time, he realized that the bed and the room was his own.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Cadwallader," said the man, whom Jeremy realized was sitting in a chaise lounge in the corner of the room. "It is just past one in the afternoon."

Jeremy was about to say something, but the man stopped him. "Word has been sent to your offices. Your employer is an ally; you will have all the time you need to recover." A smile grew on his face. "You may even receive a promotion, since you aided our cause."

"Where is my son?"

"Sister Tabitha is in the nursery watching him. Your child is safe."

"And the Lilith?"

The man looked at him. "How did you know that name?"

"I... my Abigail told me. In a dream."

The man nodded. "Of course she did. Well, the Lilith is in the back of a wagon heading out to a safe house on the seminary grounds. She will be healed.

"Will she be allowed clothes?"

"Eventually. But in case you are thinking that, no, she will not be defiled."

"Good."

"And now we have one final task for you. A ritual cleansing. Let us go to your bathroom."

Jeremy rose from his bed and found this time that he was steady on his feet. He looked down and found he was in a state of semi-erection.

He looked at the man. "I'm assuming no clothes."

"That is correct. Are you embarrassed?"

"Not anymore."

"Good. Shame is a vital tool. But shame for the wrong things is an obstacle."

He led him to the bath and found the tub already filled with warm water.

"She told me before you woke up," the man said simply. Jeremy nodded.

"Am I to simply bathe myself?"

"Not quite. You must be bathed by someone in the light to complete your cleansing."

Jeremy looked at the man.

"It won't be you, I hope."

For the first time, the man chuckled. "No Mr. Cadwallader, neither of us are disposed for such an activity. We do have someone who is perfect though."

The man nodded and in walked Anna. She was wearing a soft white robe. The shock did cause Jeremy to place his hands over his cock.

"Anna! I didn't know you worked for them."

"I don't. But he came to me this morning and explained the situation." Her eyes went to what his hands hid. "I agreed."

The man nodded. "Once the bath is done, you will be returned to the light, Mr. Cadwallader. You will have no further need for us. Your child is safe. We will depart." His eyes always went to Jeremy's hands. "I think we will forgo the handshake. Farewell, Mr. Cadwallader. Anna."

With that, he shut the door, leaving Jeremy and Anna alone. She was still clothed. He was naked. He felt self-conscious and vulnerable, but not ashamed.

"This is most unusual. I apologize for my state."

Anna chuckled.

"I understand."

"So, what do we do?"

"Everything was explained to me. I am to bathe you. When we are done, you are clean. Returned to the light, as they said. And then you can wear clothes."

With this, Anna loosened the belt on her robe and allowed it to fall from her shoulders. She was bare beneath. Her breasts were small, as was her waist. His eyes drifted to her pubis; it was trimmed, and her legs were shorn.

Anna smiled, comfortable in his gaze.

"I was informed of your preferences. And I obliged."

Jeremy's hands moved away. Again, his cock began to respond to this site. Her eyes left him and went to the bath, a silent suggestion that he should get in. He did so, and she came to him. She dampened a washcloth and began to run it over his body. First, she ran it over his arms, his cheat and stomach. She went to his hips but skirted the obvious thing needing attention. She went to his legs and then his feet. He was impressed by her ability to do so without tickling. She asked him to stand, and began to wash his back, then his legs. Finally, she gave attention to his arse and then came around to his front.

"I must wash all of you," she said softly.

"I understand," Jeremy said in equal volume.

She took him in her hand and washed his cock, which grew more in her hand. She then turned to his scrotum and did the same. She did all of this with great gentleness and care. There was a moment when she looked like she wanted to do more but was unsure. She looked up at him.

"Not here," he said. With that, he stepped out of the tub and kissed her on the lips. She responded. Still dripping, he took a towel and handed it to her, who then dried him off, again paying great attention to his cock.

"Now you may wear clothes again," she said.

"I may, but I will not," he said. "And neither will you. Unless you are tending to my son."

Anna nodded, and they exited the bathroom, heading to the main room. They walked past the infant's room and could hear him snoring softly. The boy was safe.

They entered the master bedroom and Anna looked at Jeremy.

"Is this alright? In your matrimonial bed?"

Jeremy looked at her.

A bed is a bed.

He heard this in Abigail's voice.

"A bed is a bed," he said. "And death did us part."

Anna sat before him and inched her way back. Her legs spread to display the portal.

"What will the neighbors say?"

Jeremy crawled on top of her and placed himself inside her.

"To hell with the neighbors."