'Are you ready for church, Archie?'
Archibald Drake quickly slipped his phone into his pocket as his father burst into his room. He had bought it two years ago in addition to his regular one so he would be able to check out science, history and atheist websites without his parents finding out about it.
'Ready, sir,' he replied and followed them to the car.

'From the lofty courts of heaven came a bud on earth to bloom…'
The sound of the choir carried from the Baptist church across Claiborne Fox Jackson Park in Supremacy, Missouri.
Couples were taking strolls, families picnicked on the lawn, a crow defiled the fading 'Jesus 2020' placard in the white lily bed, children played hide and seek, two elderly ladies sat on the plinth of the Jackson statue beside the 'Don't Feed the Pigeons' sign and fed the pigeons, and Rowland Johnson, a black medicine student from New York, sat down on a bench to study his anatomy book.
He was too focused on his studies to notice how more and more people stared at him and gaped.
Behind him a mass of small black dots had appeared that grew denser and larger. At first it looked like an enormous swarm of flies, but gradually the dots connected to take on the shape of a 12-foot creature with fiery eyes holding a noose.
When Rowland eventually turned around, it was too late. The creature put the noose around his neck, lifted it and hanged him from an oak tree.

Women and children screamed as everybody watched in horror, and many recorded the assault on their phones.

After having completed its mission, the creature disintegrated.

Nobody knew what to do. Call 911 and report a demon?

The confusion about what had happened and what to do created an awkward silence. All that could be heard was the choir concluding the hymn.

'And when he comes again, he'll be coming for me.'

'So you still don't believe in demons, Archie?' Archibald's mother asked him as they came home and watched the news on Fox while waiting for his father who helped count the offertory after the service.
Archibald was torn. There was footage, there were eyewitnesses, but he still found it difficult to wrap his head around it.

Some commentators suggested revisiting the case of Charles Kahill in light of the demon's existence. Kahill, originally from Kentucky, had been elected mayor of Supremacy the previous year, but shortly after he had been outed as an atheist, he was found burnt at the stake in his backyard.
A white jury found Rose Preston, his 90-year-old black housekeeper, guilty of his murder, and she was now on death row. The prosecution had successfully argued that since the backyard was enclosed and she was the only other person with a key, nobody else could have committed the murder. Her defence had unsuccessfully challenged the prosecutors to demonstrate how the fragile 5-foot woman could have overpowered a 6-foot-tall former wrestler.

Archibald got up to go to his room.
'I wish you would spend more time with your father and me, Archie. It can't be healthy staying in your room and reading all the time.'
'Just to have him slap my face when I don't agree with his anti-vaccine or white replacement rants?'
'You could just nod and leave it at that.'
'How could I possibly nod when I don't agree with him, ma'am?'

Back in his room he checked his phone for information about demons, from the Sumerian udugs to the ones described in the Abrahamic mythologies.
Eventually he came across a discovery that put him on the right track. Almost a millennium after the Granada Massacre of 1066, archaeologists had unearthed the first testimony of an eyewitness, a wealthy Berber merchant.
'On the surface Granada was a peaceful, prosperous place for everybody who lived here. But many Berbers felt that their Islamic way of life was threatened by the growing influence of Jews and even some Christians. Many openly expressed their wish to expel the intruders in order to preserve the character and culture of the taifa, even more so since the king was believed to be under the control of his Jewish vizier.
One morning, as I looked up at the palace, I saw what looked like an enormous swarm of mosquitoes. Just like a mosaic, the pieces slowly merged into a 12-foot-tall black fiery-eyed demon yielding a sword and entering the palace. There was a lot of screaming, and soon I saw blood gushing down the steps. Shortly afterwards the demon came out again and went into people's houses where it continued the slaughter. Everything happened terribly fast, and I took my sword and cleaned it with the holy water of the Zamzam Well which I had collected on my Hajj, knowing that it would render the demon powerless.
I went into the street and confronted it.
"What is your name? Who summoned you, and for what purpose?"
"My name is Us, and I was summoned by your people to weed out Them."
"Who are Them?"
"Them are all who are not Muslim Berbers, as well as those who deviate from the prescribed ways of Islam. The taifa requires cleansing."
I lifted my sword to behead the creature, but as soon as the steel touched it, it disintegrated as if it had never existed, yet the bodies of the thousands it had massacred for their religion or the colour of their skin bore witness to its existence.'
'So the demon can be defeated,' Archibald thought to himself. 'Now I just have to figure out how.'

As he attended college the following morning, he found that most of his white classmates were quite indifferent to the event, one of them even claiming, 'It's not here to hurt me.'
He knew that there was little appetite in the white Christian community to fight the demon, but he felt he needed an ally. Yet everybody around him seemed only interested in their social status and unquestioningly conformed and complied with authority in order not to endanger it. Reason and impartiality were nonexistent, let alone empathy. Most of the time he felt like the only normal person in an asylum.
He tried to think of someone who wasn't afraid to stand up for their individual opinions, and he remembered a black girl who had spent some time in detention with him. While he had been detained for 'spewing evolutionary nonsense', Bianca had been punished for objecting to a cross being placed in her classroom.
Like himself she spent most of the time on her own during recess. He found her sitting on the wall of a flowerbed, reading White Evangelical Racism, even though this was one of the books banned on campus.
'Do you mind if I join you?' he asked.
'Go ahead,' she replied and made space for him.
'You don't think much of Christianity, do you?'
'How could I?' she answered. 'I will never understand how my ancestors could remain loyal to the religion that justified their enslavement. Have you heard of the Curse of Ham?'
'Of course, every Sunday so far. It's hard to fathom that adults would actually believe such nonsense. But that's what happens in collective identities.'
'What do you mean, Archie?'
'My name is Archibald.'
'I'm awfully sorry.' Bianca seemed terribly embarrassed. 'It's just that everybody else calls you Archie…'
'I don't care what everybody else calls me,' Archibald told her, hoping she'd get the hint. 'What I mean is that most people are so engrossed in their collective identities that they can't think for themselves and even refuse to see the obvious. They consider their collective identities the only valid ones, and I'm convinced that this is what's behind the demon.'
'Go on,' she urged him.
He told her about his discovery regarding the Granada Massacre and continued, 'It appears that the demon is summoned by people's collective identities; in the case of Granada by Muslim Berbers, and in this case by white Christians. Today the demon commits the deeds white Christians would have committed themselves until about 70 years ago: if a black boy tried to study medicine or a mayor turned out to be an atheist, they would have organised a lynching in Claiborne Fox Jackson Park, and the kids would get a day off school to join the festivities. And they would still do it if they didn't have to fear federal prosecution, so now their collective subconscious has invoked the demon to preserve the character of Supremacy and their way of life. Taking on the demon is not as much a fight of good against evil as one of individual minds against collective identities… Coming to think of it, it's probably one and the same.'
'You plan to fight the demon?'
'Yes, but I don't believe I can do it alone. I tried to think of someone who isn't afraid of the mainstream, and that's why I'm here.'
The bell rang.
'Do you want to come to my place after school?' Bianca asked him. 'I live at 28 Newsom Lane.'

Archibald never used his car within Supremacy. It was a small town, and most places were reached faster on foot due to the heavy traffic and the difficulties in finding a parking space. However, this time he wished he had driven.
As he entered the black ghetto, people left their porches and went inside, and pedestrians gave him a wide berth. He hadn't considered this before, but here he was the other, the one who was different, and therefore perceived as a threat.
He tried to imagine the reverse situation. What would happen if an unaccompanied black man entered Anderson Heights? Archibald could think of at least a dozen men who would shoot him on sight, and most others would call 911 and report him for 'acting suspicious'.
Bianca let him in, and they went to her room.
'Have you heard about the latest incident?' she asked him.
'No, what happened?'
'An hour ago the demon poured gasoline over the mosque and burned it down. 27 people died, including six children.'
The mosque had only been built five years ago, against the fierce opposition of white Christians who went all the way to the US Supreme Court, claiming it would destroy the character of Supremacy.
'So you have looked up how demons are defeated?' she asked him.
'I have indeed. The Sumerians used magic maces, the Mesopotamians buried figurines of the demons, Jews burn the placenta of black cats, Christians and Muslims sprinkle holy water, and they all accompany their actions by reciting religious texts or chants.'
'So what do atheists do?'
'That's the easy part. It appears that one only has to be convinced of one's method to destroy it. I was thinking of water pistols filled from the library fountain.'
'So what's the difficult part?'
'Knowing when and where it will strike next. We might have to provoke it into manifesting itself in our presence by creating a scenario so outrageous to the white Christian mentality that they will summon it on the spot.'
For a moment both of them sat in thought.
'You probably know that Supremacy was founded on a massacre,' Bianca broke the silence. 'If those who once lived here came back to claim what's theirs, you can be certain the demon would be invoked at once.'
'That's a great idea. I've been in touch with environmental activists in Oklahoma, I'm sure they have some useful connections.'

Back home Archibald made a few calls and eventually was put in contact with the people he was looking for and who agreed to his plan.
'You're aware that it's dangerous, and that besides the demon there will be armed people?'
'We are. But our ancestors never shirked in the face of danger, and neither will we.'

That night Archibald secretly made copies of his father's church keys, and the following Sunday he rose early and left a note for his parents, stating that he couldn't sleep and went for a drive from which he would go to church directly.
He parked around the corner from the church and met Bianca in Claiborne Fox Jackson Park. Together they entered the empty church and hid in the gallery which was only opened for special services that were attended by neighbouring congregations as well.
Half an hour later the church was opened, and preparations for the service began. Eventually the members of the congregation arrived and the sermon commenced.
During the pastor's prayer hoofbeats could be heard from outside the building. Bianca took Archibald's hand in hers in anticipation. He looked at their hands and admired the beautiful contrast of their skin.
'Coming to think of it,' he whispered to her, 'me bringing a black girl to church probably would have been sufficient for the demon to materialise.'
Suddenly the doors opened, and a dozen Delaware on horseback slowly rode down the aisle.
'Oh God,' the pastor shouted in terror, 'please send us a protector to deliver us from this evil!'
Some of the churchgoers pulled their guns, and what looked like a huge swarm of insects appeared behind the pastor, gradually merging into the demon.
The congregation gaped at it, and when the pastor became aware of it, he said, 'Thank you, Lord, for answering our prayers so quickly!'
Now Archibald and Bianca stood up and aimed their water pistols at the demon.
'The blood of the natives compels you!'
'The blood of the slaves compels you!'
'The blood of the genocides compels you!'
'The blood of the atheists compels you!'
'The blood of the scientists compels you!'
Eventually one of the shots reached the demon. As soon as the water touched it, it disintegrated.
Archibald and Bianca quickly made their way to the car.

'We did it,' Archibald sighed, 'we defeated the demon. And for the next hate crimes in Supremacy, it will be possible to hold individuals accountable once more.'
'Unless they summon it again…'
As they fastened their seatbelts, Archibald said, 'We're both adults. I have no desire to stay in Supremacy.'
'Neither do I,' Bianca replied. 'Did you know that Vermont is both the safest and the least religious US state?'
'Vermont it is,' Archibald replied and started the engine as he noticed what looked like a huge swarm of flies in the rear mirror.