It was a crisp, clear fall day. The sun was high in the noon-day sky. As I stepped out onto the sidewalk after descending the steps of St. John the Divine in upper Manhattan, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me as they adjusted to the brightness. Passing several people on my way to the friary, I noticed dark blotches on their faces. I rubbed my eyes and dismissed it as my brain’s way of dealing with the transition from low light to the bright outdoors.
Fr. Albert, Fr Ed, and Fr. Wayne were with me. We had taken our vows alongside each other, newly anointed men of God. We walked several blocks to Ray’s Pizza for our celebration lunch. The dark blotches continued to appear. I was getting a little nervous about the persistent problem in my vision.
I turned to my companions as we neared the pizzeria. “Have any of you noticed dark blotches on the faces of some folks?” I signaled by glancing and nodding my head in the direction of the approaching couple. We all looked at the lady and man as they walked past. The couple smiled and so did we in a gesture of greeting. I turned again to my companions. “Well?”
Fr. Ed, shrugged. “I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. They looked like a nice couple.”
I then looked at Fr. Albert and Fr. Wayne. “Did either of you notice anything, dark blotches on the man’s face?
Fr. Albert and Fr. Wayne shook their heads.
“Maybe you are seeing spots, which might indicate an issue with your eyes,” said Fr. Albert.
“Perhaps you’re right. I’m overdue for an eye exam.”
We arrived at the pizzeria and took our seats. As we looked at the menu, a waiter came to our table. “Can I get you something to drink?”
When I looked up from my menu, I recoiled against my seat.
Upon noticing my reaction, Fr. Wayne asked, “Are you all right, Oliver? What’s the matter?”
My eyes were fixed on the waiter’s demonic face. It looked like a cross between a goat and a snake. As I continued to look at it, the demon face turned into a human face, then back to a demon face. It faded in out from demon to human and back. For an instant I felt the same way I did on my fifth birthday when my aunt and uncle came to visit. My uncle did not look like my uncle: he looked like a monster. His demonic face terrified me causing me to freeze with fear. He approached and I backed up against the wall. When he touched my face I went into a semi-comatose state. I remember hearing my mother’s voice in the distance and waking up after my uncle had left. I never felt such fear as that again, until today.
“Any of you notice anything unusual about our waiter?” I asked as I struggled to maintain my composure.
The demon waiter glanced at each of the priest, then looked at me wearing a contorted smile, revealing black gums and yellow teeth.
“Oliver, what’s this all about? I don’t see anything unusual. Are you seeing spots again?” Asked Fr. Wayne.
“Sorry to ruin your lunch. I’m feeling kind of sick. Can we just leave?”
After we arrived at the friary, I went to my room, prayed, took a nap, and awoke to a knock on my door.
Fr. Wayne let himself in. “Fr. Manuel wants to see you.”
