Rachel H. White

(note: unfortunately this is not really edited so the dialoge is not much alleviated by description of the characters' movements; and pardon Dick's uber-Jersey accent)

Dick rubbed the back of his neck for a second, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling as if searching for the right words, “Ya see, Pierce, dere’s all kinds a spirits: demons, angels, genies, human souls, heck even gods are a kind of spirit.  A very powerful kind, mind you, but when ya get right down to it dat’s just a matter of who believes what.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, dat’s da way it works.  Da more belief dere is in a spirit, da more godlike it can become.  Now I don’t know as much about dat end of it, so before I get knocked upside da head with a lightnin’ bolt from upstairs,” Dick grinned warily at the ceiling and beyond, “Let me explain usin’ my own example.  I’m a demon, right?  Dat’s because for a lotta centuries dere was a lotta humans who believed dat most of dere problems was caused by demons and other bad spirits.  Dis was before some other humans started believing dat it was because of t’ings dat scientists and psychologists like to study.  Either way, certain spirits, like me, began ta use dese humans’ ideas about demons to shape ourselves.  Dat way we was able ta steal energy off of da humans, an’ boy do we like stealin’ energy.”

“But it’s so much better when it’s freely-given energy.” Charlene put in.

“Well, hotcakes, yes an’ no.  For one t’ing you personally have a lotta energy ta give, an’ for another, energy feels a lot better when you can take and take all you want without waitin’ ta get permission.”

Pierce nodded, “If it’s anything like drinking blood, I’d have to agree with Dick.”

“I ain’t sayin’ all take an’ no give’s the right way to do it.”

“Of course not,” Pierce nodded, “otherwise you and I would not be where we are.  But it is difficult to take the right path when the wrong path is so easy.”

“Is it easy, dough?” Dick raised his eyebrows, “Or is it hard because ya hate ya’self for doin’ it?”

“Yes, because you know it is wrong.” Pierce was silent for a moment, while Dick took a sip from his beer, then a thought occurred to him, “Dick, if you say demons and other spirits are powered by belief, how is it that you are ‘fallen’?”

“Mmm,” Dick swallowed, and answered, “Dat’s de interestin’ part, ain’t it.  See somehow, an’ even I don’t know how, belief isn’t always the superpower behind it all.  Either dat or it don’t matter how many people believe a t’ing, but how much they believe.  I mean maybe one independent person can out-believe an entire religion.  An’ what about what we spirits ourselves believe, eh?  Sure angels and gods depend on the beliefs of humans, enslave themselves to them.  But if a spirit thinks about it the right way, and if one tries hard enough, one can break the influence of belief, and one can become a free spirit, free to be anything, anything at all.”

“So you are now free.” Pierce smiled.

“Eh…not quite.” Dick looked down at his drink, puffing on his cigarette.

“Dick’s still working on fighting his demon influences.” Charlene explained, “That’s why he still has horns and hooves, and he has his addictions.”

“Oh.” Pierce replied.  It was all he could manage to say.

Dick looked at him, and then crossed his eyes to glare at the tip of his cigarette.  Then, without a word, he reached up and took the cigarette out of his mouth and set it down in the ashtray on the bar.  Two full seconds passed, however, before he took his fingers off the butt of the cigarette and let it rest in the ashtray, smoldering so that a thin tendril of smoke snaked up towards the lights.  Dick turned back to Pierce with a weak smile.  He breathed in deep, but didn’t seem to breathe out.

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