Summary
Jack finds this strange object. He's warned about its demonic powers when he takes it to the shop. Jack tries to get rid of it by throwing in the fire and a wood chipper, but it keeps returning. It's now possessed his soul. He wakes up to find a bloody knife, rosary beads belonging to his priest. He tries to escape from the satanic object only to wake up and find blood all around him. The demonic object forces him to kill his friend.

The detectives discover a body at St. Ann's church. He was stabbed 18 times and his tongue cut out. They found fingerprints but didn't find a weapon. They find a man with the same amount of stab wounds at Jack's apartment.

Jack finds himself at a church where he's nearly caught.

Infuriated with the demonic device, Jack snatches the round object off the floor. Bloody remains drip onto the carpet.  The stench of fresh blood and decomposing flesh makes Jack gag. A warm, foul liquid rises to his mouth and then threatens its escape.

Several cars pull into the drive as he tries to contain the vomit.  I can't get sick now, I just can't. He swallows the nasty bile that floods his mouth as he continues on.

"Put me down, put me down," the demonic ball demands.

 "Gladly." Smiling, Jack tosses it into a bowl of what he hopes to be holy water. "Take that you satanic beast." He shoves the ball down as far as it will go.

 The cool, clear liquid sloshes over the sides as black smoke rises from the container; the fog expands upward and then hangs heavily in the air. 

The thrashing stops, the smoke slowly dissipates into the stagnant air.  

I'm finally free. Jack turns to leave when he hears a familiar voice behind him; he spins around.

 "You'll never destroy me, never." The object utters, in a slow, elongated drawl. 

Jack watches the demonic ball laboriously rise from the bowl; its rounded figure is severely mangled into an odd hexagon shape.  The ball tries to take flight; it sputters and then falls into the container. The object tries again.

"Not this time, you don't." Jack grabs the neighboring pitcher and dumps its contents over the ball.

"No," it screams as it falls into the bowl. Smoke barrels from the dish as the object slowly melts away. 

Hearing heavy footsteps outside the front door, Jack darts towards the back. A horde of cops storms through the entranceway as he pulls the wooden barrier to. 

***

The Decatur police are loading their equipment into their van as the Atlanta PD  pulls onto the scene. 

"That was quick." Mike points to the officer who's removing police tape from the surrounding area. This is usually an indication the investigation is complete.

"A little too quick if you ask me." Mary walks towards the captain. Knowing there's animosity between them, she practices what she was going to say.  She hopes her speech will curb his hostility. at least for the remainder of this case. 

"I'm Detective Palmer and I'm..." 

"I know who you are." The captain quibbles, turning away. Mary grabs a hold of his arm. He spins around as he jerks his extremity away.

"I know the departments have had their share of altercations but.."

"Altercations, that's putting it mildly," he laughs. Turning, he heads towards his crew. 

Who does he think he is, dismissing me like that. She takes a deep breath to suppress her anger before she tries again. "This perp has killed in Atlanta, Tucker, Scottsdale and now here. So I think it would be in everyone's best interest if we put our differences aside." 

"I'm well aware of the other murders, Detective and if my department finds anything we think will be helpful,  we will certainly let you know. In the meantime, I advise you and your inept crew to stay out of my way; let the professionals do their job." 

"You might want to advise your so-called professionals to look for a guy by the name of Jack Miller. He was last seen driving a light green 2002 Toyota Corolla."

"Jack Miller?" he asks as he spins around.

"We have proof that he's responsible for all the murders. You would've known this if you'd bothered to read the fax, assuming you can read." Turning on her heels, she heads towards the car. She starts to climb in when another thought comes to mind.  If he isn't aware, I bet the sheriff's office isn't either. She takes her phone from her pocket and dials a number. "This is DetectivePalmer, from the Atlanta PD. I wanted to let you know that we have a murder suspect headed your way. His name is Jack Miller and he's driving a light green four-door 2002 Toyota Corolla." ... "We do have an APB out on him, sir, but the local police department doesn't seem to be aware. So I'm calling to make sure your men are advised of the situation." ... "Didn't you receive a fax?" ... "Oh, I see, well I hope you're able to get it fixed soon." She takes the notebook from her pocket. "The license plate number is Charley, apple, echo, delta 1482." ... "I appreciate your help, sir. We will, sir, goodbye." She turns to find Mike behind her.

"I've talked to a few of the officers while you were trying to play nice." He glances over at the captain.

"He doesn't know what the word means. She mean-mugs him.  The captain smiles. Pompous jerk. 

"I can tell."

"So, what did you find out?" 

"They said the witness heard screaming from the back of the church.  She turns to see a tall, thin guy stabbing the priest." 

"Can she describe the murderer?"

"They had her sit down with a sketch artist." He hands her a picture.

 "That's definitely Jack.  But why did he drive to Decatur to target this particular priest?"

"You've got me. Did you get anywhere with him?" he asks.

"He wasn't even aware of the APB. So I called the sheriff's office, told them what was going on. They asked me to send an email  with all the  information because their fax is down."

"It looks like we've done all we can here." Mike smiles. "Unless you want to go for round two." He teases, nudging her arm.

"I'm good." Mike chuckles.  Hearing the captain's voice behind her. Mary spins around. 

"How dare you pull rank on me," he barks as he stomps towards her.

"I didn't pull shit on you," she mouths back.

"Why did I get a call from the commissioner, then?"

"The commissioner called?" she asks, trying not to smile.

"He was told that I wasn't doing my job."

"Sounds like I'm not the only one who's questioning your abilities. With your soaring crime rate,  I can't say I'm one bit surprised."

His face turns a crimson red. "I'll have you know my department is running better now than it has in years."

"There's a scary thought." She starts to walk away when another comment comes to mind. Should I? She looks over at Mike, he gives her a stern, don't do it look. Why not? Smiling she turns around. "We'll let you know when the professionals catch the perp, assuming you're still in office."

"You're going to be sorry for this, you and your crew." The captain storms away.

"Did you get the threat on your body cam, Mary?"

"Every last word." She smiles.

***

Jack is scrunched down behind a row of boxes in the small, dusty room. He thought it led to the outside but it took him to a storage closet instead. The overpowering scent of mildew drifts through the drafty area. This strong, musty smell takes his breath away. 

Dust particles float past him making his nose itch. He wiggles it but that only makes things worse. They might hear me if I move. He twitches his snout again. Oh, darn it. He carefully moves his hand up and scratches his irritated nostrils. Much better.  

 Jack notices a water pipe above him when he glances around.  He watches the drops form and then plunks to the dusty wood floor. This repetitive action plays havoc on his bladder.  Jack turns his attention elsewhere.  

He's looking for a better place to hide when he hears a horde of officers storm through the church. His entire body begins to tremble. Please don't let them find me, please don't let them find me, he silently begs, hunkering down as far as he can go. 

A crippling pain shoots across his midsection when he crouches down; urine threatens its escape. His body tenses up as he fights to keep it in. The pain becomes intense. I can't take this anymore, I just can't. The scent of fresh urine hits him as hot liquid trickles down his leg. He glances down at the puddle below him. At least I'm not hurting anymore. He cautiously exchanges his soiled clothes for some lying on top of a box. Finding another hiding place he scrunches back down. 

The horrid murders begin to play in his mind. He first pictures his victims staring at him in disbelief as he thrusts the sharp blade deep into his neck. He then envisions the priest tumbling helplessly onto the ground; blood oozes all around the clergy as he lays gurgling in the dirt.  Jack watches as horror obtrudes his caring eyes. Taking his final breath, the victim's head falls to the side.

 "No, no, stop it, stop it." Jack yells, springing up from the boxes.

"Hold it right there," an officer orders as he takes a shooters stance.

"Don't shoot, please,  don't shoot," Jack yells, throwing his hands in the air.

***

Characters

Jack Miller, Construction worker, he found the ball

Jen, Jack's girlfriend

Rick Duncan, Jack's best friend

Atlanta PD

Mike Palmer cop for 20 years sergeant 5

Mary Addison Palmer Transferred to Atlanta PD. Married to Mike

Toni Jenson cop for 5 years, a detective for 1

Kevin Connely forensic tech He was hired out of college 15 years ago.

Don Myers, beat cop ten years. He's taking detective exam in the fall

Tom Hagman Transferred from Savana eight years ago.

Susan Allison, ME Been with the station for over 25 years