Many

 

Many

There’s something wrong.

Where are we?

It’s dark.

His eyes opened.  We looked out, and we saw a simple clay and thatch room. We were laying on simple quilts over a pile of straw. We could feel the panic welling up in the person we were with, as he heard our voices echo in his mind.

“Who are you?”

No need to worry. We won’t hurt you.

This was an accident.

We shouldn’t be here.

The cacophony of voices did little to alleviate his fears, and he bolted upright, looking about the room. He had enough mind to grab clothes to put on, even as he stumbled about.

“What do you want with me?”

Nothing.

Be not afraid.

We are sorry.

The man tripped over himself leaving his home and rushed out into the street outside. It was a simple village with only perhaps a few scores of people living there. A place where everyone knew everyone else.

He’s going to hurt himself.

We should stop him.

He flailed. Too many of us, unable to guide his actions.  One of his hands lashed out and struck one of the people in the street, and he crumpled to the ground, flailing as he tried to get up.

“Help me!”

We were getting agitated. The noise of our voices overwhelmed him.  He pulled at his hair, screamed for our voices to be silenced, and the people around him were growing alarmed.

“He’s possessed!”

“A demon!”

It did not take long for the people to panic, and then the rocks were flung. Alarmed, we pushed and pulled and forced him to his feet, controlling his limbs as we stumbled him quickly out of the village.  The rocks stung him, cut him open, bruised him. We were grabbed and bound in chains, as the villagers tried to decide what to do with us.  We broke the chains, and forced the man to flee into the wilderness.

We’re sorry.

This was not our intent.

“Why are you plaguing me?” he sobbed as we stumbled his injured body out into the hills.  We found a cave there and settled him in.

It was an accident.

We were looking for a body.

Not yours.

It was a mistake.

He pulled at his hair and dug his nails into his skin, and we had to stop him.  He sobbed, exhausted, and fell asleep on the dirt inside the cave.

We discussed. What to do?  There was a steep embankment nearby, and we thought perhaps to fling him into the water and try again.  We quickly put the thought to the wayside, as to further harm this poor man was not what we desired.

But we did not know how to care for him. He would grow hungry.  We did not know how to hunt or fish. He would grow thirsty. There was water nearby.  His injuries, while not severe, were a sign of just how frail he was, and we would need to protect him from himself.

For days we did what we could. Insects. Eggs.  Berries.  We stole fruit from groves and we ate frogs and worms and drank water. He was miserable, but we did not know what else to do.  The townsfolk stayed far away from him, which we felt was for the best, but for how long?  Night and day he cried out in sorrow, and tried to cut himself with stones, and we did what we could to keep him alive.

In the distance, we saw a figure. He was radiant — a rabbi of great strength.

We pulled the man up and rushed to him. You have come! we said.

“What do you want with me? Don’t torture me!” the man cried.

The rabbi looked at us, and we could tell he could sense our presence. “Come out of this man!”

We can’t!

We’ve tried.

He sensed our anguish.  “What is your name?”

“My name is…” we interrupted him. Legion. For we are many.

“Cast them from me!” he begged.

Please! we begged. Send us into the swine. Allow us to go into them!

Yes, cast us out of this poor man and into the swing!

We know what to do!

The rabbi seemed content with this, and drew us out of the man. There were thousands of pigs, and thousands of us, and we rushed into them, taking their bodies for our own. And with that, we dashed out and down the ravine and into the waters, and the pigs drowned.

As the last of the pigs died, we were free, ourselves once more.

We watched as the rabbi tended to the wounded man, and cleansed him and gave him clothing. And the townsfolk approached. They were afraid, and shouted for him to leave. They were afraid of the man and of this rabbi, and we watched with sympathy, before we went on our way.