My short story, “Demon in Diapers,” is available now as part of the collection When Glints Collide, an anthology of horror. I’m really happy to include an excerpt of it here.
“Demon in Diapers” is an autobiographical memoir of parenting and demonic possession. Don’t believe my wife. This actually happened.
I used to think my older boy was possessed. Sometimes, the toddler jabbered in a low rumbling growl, evoking the rasp of a thousand, thousand cigarettes, like Lemmy from Motörhead. That voice made me imagine some sort of mutant toad beast from the lowest level of Hell, belching volcanic fire. This from the boy who sang along to Thomas the Tank Engine in falsetto.
My son’s command of the English language was spotty. But there was one word recognizable when he affected that voice.
“Apple. . . apple. . . apple!” he incanted in thundering crescendo. Perhaps it was not the demon itself, I thought. Perhaps these were fevered prayers to his fruit-obsessed dark master. As soon as I gave him an apple, the voice would disappear, he would transform into a cooperative little angel, and his eyes radiated blissful obliviousness. Over time, with a lack of any other evidence, I decided he wasn’t possessed. He just really, really liked apples. I confirmed this when I encountered a real possession. It was my younger son that had the demon in him.
Check out the full story, and many others, in When Glints Collide at Amazon.com.