A presence was slowly gathering about them. The fear and anger were literally taking shape. Seven felt a thickness grow before he saw it; a gigantic swirling black-centered demonlike form. Despite himself, he stepped backward. The demon—or whatever it was—was definitely there, rising out of the shadow walls. Yet, on the other hand, there was something not-there about it too. Lydia opened her handbag and reached for her revolver.

As she did so, the thing began to speak—or at least words came from somewhere, though Seven knew that the creature’s tongue could have no power of its own. And as it spoke, like a giant evil porcupine it sent out darts of terror that stuck into—well, psychological skin—while foul odors slithered like snakes from it, coiling everywhere. Lydia dropped her handbag. The ground beneath it turned into quicksand, swallowing the handbag, revolver and all.

“Well, do something,” Lydia stammered.

Seven closed his eyes. He opened them again. Nothing had changed. “We’re on our way to visit the gods,” he said politely.

A gigantic chuckle began somewhere nearby. And built up. And grew until the sounds drowned out Oversoul Seven’s thoughts as well as his hard-earned composure. Giant teeth appeared in the sky, too close to the ground for comfort. They clanked up and down with each god-forsaken gasp of laughter; and the open mouth showed a gullet-path that led into distances too far even for Seven’s imagination.

Lydia was sobbing.

Seven was frightened enough; and confused. He whispered to Lydia, “I thought you didn’t believe in demons?”

“I don’t really know if I believe in gods or not but I believe in demons all right,” Lydia muttered, staring at the huge teeth which now were fading, while the original monster-shape came closer.

“There aren’t any demons,” Seven said urgently. “You’ve got to believe me.”

“Then what’s that?” Lydia cried angrily.

“Kneel down and adore me, or be annihilated,” demanded the voice issuing from the creature but also seeming to come from the ground beneath their feet, and from the sky as well.

Oversoul Seven finally got his mental footing. “Okay,” he said agreeably, borrowing Lydia’s expression on purpose.

Lydia grabbed Seven’s arm, shouting, “Oh, how could you? You’ll be bowing to evil!”

“Will you let me handle this?” Seven almost yelled.

“Bow down, with your belly on the ground,” insisted the monster, hissing now.

“Never!” Lydia screamed, trembling. She advanced, saying the Lord’s Prayer, which she suddenly remembered.

“‘Our Father—’”

“Lydia, that’s useless,” Seven said. But Lydia was beyond listening.

“Bow down and adore me,” the monster raged.

“‘Who art in Heaven—’” Lydia prayed.

It was going to be a metaphysical shouting match, Seven thought—somewhat angry himself now. “You don’t really believe in God the Father,” he reminded Lydia, as gently and considerately as he could under the circumstances. “But you do believe in demons.”