Soul Sucker
Vision

John Miller’s POV

Aspen, Colorado

Monday, December 5, 2022

I wasn’t happy to be in the middle of this alpine paradise.

It’s not that I’d never been skiing. I’d done some when I was younger at places out east like Killington and Sugarloaf. It was more that it wasn’t good for me. As an old hockey player with more guts than brains, I rarely skied within my skill level. If I could make it through a blue (intermediate) run, I’d get on a black diamond (expert) next. If I survived that, I wanted to try a double black diamond (REAL experts). My body paid the price for my hubris, and I’d finally said ‘enough’ of skiing when I was thirty.

I wanted to stay home with my girlfriend and her daughter, but no dice. I picked up my packet from the girl at the door and went inside. Most students sitting around the tables were in their twenties or early thirties. I looked for the graybeard table near the front, where old eyes could read the screen and bad ears could hear, and grabbed a spot. “John Miller, from Manhattan Life,” I said to the other four at the table.

“John? Holy shit! I didn’t know you’d be here!” A guy in his early thirties with thick glasses and a double chin held out his hand. “Samuel Kincaid, from First Insurance. We talked last week.”

“Yeah, Samuel, good to put a face with a name.” I introduced myself to the other three; one worked for a law firm, while the other two were in health care. We talked briefly about our education and experience, and they were fascinated to hear I was a retired cop. “The guy scheduled to come fell off a ladder Saturday, so I’m here instead.”

“This shouldn’t be too bad a week. I’ve seen some of the idiots who graduated, after all.” I looked down at the itinerary for the day; in the morning were introductions and Federal fraud statutes. Pretty dry, but the lunch and afternoon were free. The resort had complimentary lift tickets for us today, and most of the group was excited to be going.

Not Samuel. “Are you up for a little road trip instead of skiing? I’ll buy lunch,” he promised.

“What’s going on?”

“Remember that case I asked you about? The woman buying the policy on her fiancé?”

I nodded. “Sure. What did your underwriters think of my idea to spread the first-year risk among one or more companies?”

“My bosses weren’t willing to reject the policy, but he brought in another company for the first five years. Any guesses who?” I shrugged. “Manhattan Life is picking up ten million of the twenty-five.”

“No shit?” The reinsurance market was strictly a financial risk play, with the lead company responsible for the vetting. It would never come across my desk.

“The insured party has their physical this afternoon in Denver. Since you are backing us on the policy, you can review the application on the drive there. We can meet the two, and if there are any red flags, we go back to our people and back out. If we both agree it’s fishy, they won’t be able to ignore us.”

What the hell? It beat sitting in the hotel room. “I’m in.”

The classes dragged on, made worse because I didn’t want to be here. The course wasn’t necessary to take the test, and I hated being in class. I’d only gotten my college degree because the team paid tutors to help me through. I passed my Detective test through the diligent study on my part and a trove of previous exams. I followed Samuel to his car when we broke for the day. That’s where I found out my free ‘lunch’ was a McDonald’s drive-through. “We don’t have time for anything else,” he justified.

I finished my Quarter Pounder with Cheese and sipped on a Diet Coke as I reviewed the file he’d given me. Landon Street looked like a good bet from an actuarial basis. Young, active, and from the pictures, in excellent physical condition. I looked over the addendum describing his rock climbing, using my phone to look up some of the terms used. He did bouldering and cliffs, mostly, and top-roped them. Most times, he used a guide. The combination was among the safer options, without the weather variables of mountain climbing or the unforgiveness of free climbing. Still, it was an inherently dangerous activity, so their actuaries calculated a premium surcharge.

“I still don’t understand why the fiancé wants such a big policy on him,” I said. “If he dies, she gets it all. No inheritance taxes. Even capital gains will be much less than the policy amount if she sells the crypto exchange.”

“Maybe she’s seen him climb,” Samuel responded.

“Maybe. What do we know about the buyer?”

“It’s in the back of the packet. There’s not a lot on the web about Ingrid Anderson.”

He had about twenty pages of material; government documents, news stories, and gossip rags. One article showed the pair in Denver. “Damn, she’s easy on the eyes,” I said as I looked at her photograph.

“If you like that Nordic ice goddess thing,” Samuel replied.

I finished the file as we entered downtown Denver. “If I were in charge, I’d reject the policy just because it doesn’t feel right.”

“I can’t put ‘gut feel’ in my recommendation, John.”

“I know. Let’s see what the happy couple is like in person.” We arrived at the clinic, taking the elevator to the fifth-floor office of their contract doctor. Samuel checked with the desk; they had been in there for thirty minutes already. “The blood and urine samples are at the lab already, and the doctor should complete her examination in another ten to twenty minutes,” the receptionist told us. “Barring any other required tests, you should get the report tonight since you paid the expediting fee. You can wait over there for them to finish.”

It didn’t take that long. The door opened, and the doctor led the couple back to the desk. Samuel stood up as they finished, and I stood to his left. Samuel took the lead. “Mr. Street? My name is Samuel Kincaid with First Insurance.” He held out his hand, and Landon shook it. “My associate, John Miller.”

Landon shook my hand, then introduced his fiancé. Samuel shook her hand, and then I held mine out. She looked scared as our eyes met, and then our fingers touched.

A shock passed between us, and my hand clamped closed on hers.

My stomach churned as I sensed the evil inside her.

I closed my eyes, still holding her hand. Through the blackness came a vision. I saw a woman with horns and bat-like wings riding naked on a man. Her giant tits bounced above her slim belly, and her black eyes with snake-like vertical slits glowed in the darkness.

I let go of her hand and embraced the darkness.

I felt something squeezing my arm tight in my dream. I opened my eyes, expecting to see the devil, and saw the side of a hospital bed instead. The squeezing lessened as I took in my surroundings. The bed rails and machines meant a hospital. I turned my head and blinked, making out the door and walls of the room.

What the hell happened when I touched her hand? Why did I get that vision, and why was I here now?

I found the red call button on the hospital bed rail and pressed it. I’d raised the bed until I was comfortable sitting up before the door opened and the nurse arrived. “Ah, you’re awake. Good.”

“Where am I?”

“Saint Joseph’s Hospital. You’re in the Intensive Care Unit,” she replied.

“What happened?”

“You fainted and didn’t wake up. I’ll have the Doctor see you now that you’re awake.”

I looked at the clock. “Six-thirty? Morning or night?”

“Night. You’ve been unconscious since the ambulance brought you here.”

She left, and the doctor came in shortly after. He gave me a neurological examination as he asked about the events at the clinic. “What happened, Doc?”

“I don’t know yet,” he told me. “Sudden loss of consciousness without trauma isn’t common, and for you to be unconscious for hours is concerning. You don’t have low blood pressure now, nor did you when the ambulance arrived. Your history doesn’t point out any significant risk factors. I see no indications of a concussion or head injury, and the MRI we took while you were out was clean.”

Great. “So what is next?”

“We’ll keep you here overnight for observation, and I’ll have our staff neurologist review your case.”

Wonderful. “I need to make some phone calls. People are going to be worried.” That couldn’t happen under hospital rules, and they wouldn’t release me from the ICU without a better diagnosis. Samuel was still in the waiting room, and I gave him a message for Mary.

I was stuck here until morning. There was no way I could tell the Doctors that I’d been scared to death by a demon manifesting from a young blonde woman I’d touched. That would be a one-way ticket to a seventy-two-hour psych hold.