The Chosen: Rise of the Darkness Copyright © 2010 by C.A. Milson
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
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Dedicated to
Anna, My Family and My Supporters
The Chosen
Rise Of The Darkness
C. A. Milson
Chapter One
As Alex parked his car, he rubbed his hands together and cupped them in front of his mouth. It was a bone-chilling Monday night, and he had a strange feeling something terrible was going to happen inside that conference center. For the past two days and two nights, he had been plagued with frightening visions and nightmares. The first time he experienced the series of visions, he had been driving home from the supermarket, and for that moment when all he could see before his eyes was the visions, he almost lost control of the car and crashed into a tree. The second had happened shortly before he went to bed last night, and the third vision an hour ago.
The visions were almost always the same. Each time, the sky was a swirling haze of yellow, gaseous clouds. The cold, steel-like ground was covered with blood that formed into a vast pool nearby. He always paused a moment to take in the strange and terrifying surroundings, expecting to see something new. But nothing ever was. In this place, there was a creature, which could only be described as half-human and half-dragon. On each side of its head, it had a face that represented the four corners of the world. Its arms were thick, and its claws were long and slender, sharp enough to pierce even the thickest of metals without effort. Strewn around this beast was a multitude of faceless bodies. Rotting flesh and sulfur thickened the air. Alex looked around, noting evidence that these victims had tried to flee from the beast and failed. This beast had destroyed everything. Standing among this horde of death was always a woman, alive, for reasons that he could not comprehend. He would gaze at her long, flowing hair that curled around her scantily clad body like asps. She carried a newborn that seemed to have been born prematurely. In her eyes, he could see deception and great fear.
He turned his gaze from the woman to the beast, and for a moment, felt there was something familiar about this place. He moved closer, stepping over the mutilated bodies sprawled between him and that entity. The beast turned toward him, sneered, and then there was a flash of black light. The vision always ended at that point, and he always emerged from it covered in a cold sweat, his heart pounding.
Alex looked toward the building and then at his dashboard. This night—above all others—he had to go inside. Yet, he sat in his car, hesitating and rubbing his legs together against the cold. Finally, he got out of his black Pontiac Firebird Trans-Am, locked the door, and walked toward the conference center.
What the hell am I doing here? he asked himself. Yet, in the back of his mind, he already knew the answer. During the time he had been attending these seminars, he knew that most of what he heard from other researchers and witnesses were well-fabricated hoaxes. If anything was true of supernatural circumstances, it was his own life.
His life was a classic example of one supernatural incident after another. So many things had changed after the deaths of not only his fiancée, but also his parents. After the death of his fiancée, Alison, there were times when he would catch a glimpse of her spirit, drifting around either in his parents’ home or by her grave-site. He had experienced many unusual things, like the time his mother’s antique vase flew off the mantle and shattered against the opposite wall.
Alex entered the conference center. He went to Room 4, where the meetings normally took place, and chose his usual seat, four rows from the back. He sat alone, which was how he preferred it. He was no longer the social type, and quite often crowds caused him to suffer panic attacks. Sometimes, they were mild and bearable, yet, other times, the feeling of anxiety was so overwhelming that he felt like shutting himself away in his apartment where he knew he would be safe. They were always the same—increased heart rate, cold sweats, jittering, nervous speech—but sitting where he was, he felt safe, even from his own anxieties.
There was a definite energy about this place tonight. He could feel a strange presence, and the longer he stayed, the stronger the feeling became. Yet, in this room with several dozen people, he seemed to be the only one who sensed it, and for a moment, he asked himself, “Why me?” He carefully observed the other people as they came in and then turned his focus to others in the room. Some professed to be sensitive to the spiritual. Judging by their expressions, they appeared to feel nothing. His inner senses told him that some of these people were here to find someone new to hook up with, nothing more. Some had no interest in the paranormal whatsoever.
He turned his attention to the three men on stage. A cold chill swept over him, and goose bumps covered his arms and legs. He shuddered and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, but no one did. He breathed a sigh and then turned his attention back to the stage and the three men. He recognized one of them, the chairman of the society, but the other two men he didn’t know. Of the three men on stage, the one who looked like a Native American drew Alex’s attention more than the other two. Again, that same cold chill ran through him when he looked at the Native American. He flinched nervously and looked away. He began to feel weird sitting here, very uncomfortable. While he glanced around the room, the feeling of anxiety started to hit him, just as it did so many times before. The lights seemed to glow brighter and the room felt like it was spinning. He had left his meds at home, and without them, he felt too afraid to get up and leave just in case he happened to do something out of the ordinary and everyone there noticed and ridiculed him behind his back.
I have to get outta here, he thought to himself, as he started to stand, but he did not. It was as though he could not. He was meant to stay. The anxiety was strong, oppressive, overpowering, and he was powerless against it.
No one noticed him in his own world of fear. Not one person noticed his panic burst, nor did anyone care. Like usual, he was being paranoid about nothing. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and focused on his special place of peace and refuge. In times of his fear, this sometimes helped, and he hoped that this would subside. He really hated these attacks. Soon, the anxiety subsided and he started to feel more secure about being there. He breathed a sigh of relief and opened his eyes. He scanned the room, and at first glance, it seemed no one had noticed his panic attack. And that was true to a point, but someone did notice.
He looked back at the stage, and as before his attention was drawn to the Native American. He did not feel anything peculiar except very weak. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything that would divert his attention from where he was.
* * * *
Usher stood near his associates, listening to the chairman talk about his glory days when he first founded the society chapter. Like Alex, he sensed the presence in the place, had felt the strong spiritual turbulence ever since he arrived. Usher was never one to take chances, so he prayed under his breath to his god, Apportioner, for wisdom and clarity.
He came from a long line of Cherokee. For five generations in his family, the men had been taught from an early age the ways and secrets of their heritage. Since the age of ten, Usher had had a special gift for the supernatural. He was proud of his birthright, and he was proud of who he was. But he was not haughty. He was wise beyond his years. His long black hair, streaked with gray, hid the scars on the back of his neck that he got years ago while investigating a haunting in Maine. Usher was spiritually powerful, and to some, handsome. Yet, even at the age of thirty-six, he had never cared for marriage or a family. He saw relationships as a hindrance to who and what he was. He had desires like any other red-blooded male, but he was strong when it came to self-discipline. If he ever desired to settle down, he was the type who would want someone of his own kind, to preserve the lineage of his forefathers. But he didn’t.
* * * *
The third man was Drake Winters, the all-American boy. He had been the captain of his football team at a little-known high school in Northwest Ohio. In two years, he led his school to glorious victories over rivals in Michigan. He was a champion athlete, and a real show-off. His girlfriend Cassandra was captain of the cheerleader squad and, not surprisingly, one of the most popular girls in school. They had been the typical high school sweethearts. The two of them were the perfect couple. Drake had it all. He had the charisma to take him anywhere he wanted. Yet, as good as life was for him and Cassandra, he wanted more, and soon after his twenty-first birthday, he broke up with her and moved to Florida. In double-quick time, he married a rich woman he never really loved.
Twenty years later, Drake was still married to his wealthy wife, Jessica, despite people having said the relationship wouldn’t last. He could have been anything he wanted. Instead of taking a comfy job at his wife’s multinational tabloid magazine company, he chose to be a paranormal researcher, and in that time, he had seen a lot of things that would make a Billy goat puke. Some had been hoaxes, and some were so damn terrifying that they would make even skeptics believe. To some, Drake was a leader in his field.
Yes, he was good, but not the best.
By definition, only one held that right. For centuries, rumor had it that a forthcoming prophet of sorts would be born from a heritage of darkness, and after the anointed hour, he would have the power of ages to make even the most evil of supernatural forces feel real terror.
He would know the thoughts and secrets of anyone he wanted. He had power too incredible to imagine, but no one knew who this man would be because The One hadn’t been anointed with power from On High yet. When that time had come, only an elect few would know who he was.
* * * *
The seminar started precisely at seven-thirty with Chairman Jake O’Hara giving the opening address. His speech was slow, and he paused at times, typical for a man of his advancing years. Jake had seen a lot of action in his thirty-four years of investigating the occult. To this day, he was no closer to the answers then when he started. Now, in his late fifties, all he had to show for his life was a self-published book, No Ordinary Life, about his adventures. And now, the hardship of his life was starting to catch up with him. It was evident to those closest to him that the years of hardship had taken its toll on this man.
“Just what answers lie beyond our natural realm?” Jake questioned. “Certainly, there are many theories of what happens after we die. Christians believe that we pass to either Heaven or Hell, while other believers hold that the soul is reincarnated. Some people theorize that death is the end, but it is also evident that sometimes the soul will linger in the earthly realm for a time. Now, I’m sure that at one time or another, you have heard of ghost sightings, but are these true? Don’t get me wrong. I’m not condoning such things, but I have seen many hoaxes. I have also investigated a lot of wonderful, yet tremendously shocking, instances. Recently, one of our members returned from an investigation that was fascinating, yet terrifying. You will hear more about this soon. This man had full contact with an entity. This being of power even tried to take his life. But thanks to Drake’s skills and knowledge, he escaped that powerful force.”
“Professor, I have heard some instances in which entities had become so violent they actually killed people,” a young woman in the front row called out.
“That’s right,” Jake answered.
“Well, then, if that’s the case, would it be possible to destroy that supernatural presence?” the woman said.
A moment of silence fell over the auditorium while Jake chewed his lip in thought. He searched his mind for an answer. In all his years, he had never destroyed anything supernatural.
He had either exorcized daemons or sent some supernatural beings onto another plane of existence.
* * * *
That strange presence Alex felt earlier was stronger now. Alex could feel the overwhelming presence fill this room. Darting his eyes around the room and judging by people’s reactions, he knew they were still oblivious to what was going on. Everyone except Usher. He watched Usher carefully and he had the uncanny feeling that this man knew exactly what was happening.
He sighed and looked back at the speaker, who was starting to look very uncomfortable with the same question that the young woman had asked two or three times now.
Alex knew that there was no logical response to the question. The society tended to rule out logical thought and go with theories based on cult superstitions. Many people had left because they were unable to handle the fantastical stories they had heard from this so-called speaker. The real world was outside, and for most, that was all they had wanted. They didn’t want or need to be told that they were being watched by lurking shadows, especially by a speaker who had been dubbed by some as a religious fanatic.
“I know in some films the hero manages to destroy the supernatural bad guy one way or another, but let me assure you, there have been no recorded instances of people destroying such phenomena,” Jake answered.
“But is it possible?” the young woman asked with persistence.
Jake’s lips moved, but no sound emerged. It was obvious he needed help.
Drake stepped up to the podium placed his hand over the microphone and whispered something to Jake.
Jake looked at the man, who gave him a reassuring nod and a pat on the shoulder as he passed and sat down by Usher while the crowd whispered under their breath.
* * * *
Usher leaned over to Jake and whispered, “Why didn’t you answer her?”
“I’m sure you know why.”
“Your brother?” Usher asked.
Jake never answered. He stared at no particular point in the sea of faces and folded his arms.
“I haven’t known you long, but I know there was nothing you could have done.”
“How do you know?” Jake snapped. “You weren’t there to see how bad things got.”
“I didn’t have to be there. I knew all about it,” Usher said.
Jake was silent for a moment. “Did Drake tell you? Did he tell you how my brother went insane in that house and murdered his wife and kids?”
“He didn’t have to . . . I saw the whole thing in my visions.”
Jake rolled his eyes. Sure you did.
Jake didn’t believe him, but he didn’t push the issue. Instead, he turned his attention to Drake.
Drake’s response was pure fabrication, although he had thrown some truth in for good measure.
The young woman’s curiosity was satisfied, and she continued to listen to the guest speaker, taking note all the while.
“As I gaze about this room, I am sure that there will be some among you who will no doubt come across paranormal instances in your lifetime. While it is believed that some events that take place can be put down to a hoax, there are also events you will come across that are as real as any horror folklore,” Drake said truthfully.
“Since starting in this industry twenty years ago, I have investigated many strange occurrences all over the world. For years, I’ve known Jake and worked with him. Let me say that his advice over the years has been invaluable to me, and if it wasn’t for his friendship, I have no idea where I would be today. No doubt I would not be standing here addressing all of you.
“As Jake started to say before, I recently returned from investigating a haunting in the small town in Queensland known as Gympie. As most of you would know, Gympie was a thriving gold-mining colony before the turn of the century. Many people came from far and wide to seek their fortunes, but there was one man who sought after the souls of people.
“Records indicate this man was from Europe. He was part of a secretive cult, which was believed to be derived from an ancient Babylonian religion. His rituals involved sacrificing virgins and newborn babies. He slit the victims’ throats and cut open their chests. This man, who called himself Jamiesonn, would rip out the victim’s heart, drink his or her blood, and devour the heart while it was still beating. It was said that while he consumed the heart, the elders of his cult would feast on the flesh of the victim. Then the carcass was thrown into a cauldron and boiled. The bones were crushed into dust and used in Jamiesonn’s evil spells. His rituals were so horrifying that he was also known as Belial, or Son of Baal. Some people called him The Beast, while others referred to him as Leviathan.
“In any case, it was evident that Jamiesonn had an insatiable lust for blood and sacrifice. No doubt, his desire for immortality drove him to a state of insanity. His barbaric sacrifices continued for many years, growing more horrific with time. Jamiesonn’s need for immortality was his soul-driven passion, and he tried everything known to ancient mystic religions to possess it.
“In time, his hatred grew for those whom opposed his self-proclaimed God-ship. Jamiesonn was hell-bent on destruction and murder. One night, during one of his rituals, a powerful force manifested within him. It is believed that he murdered not only all of his followers, but many of the townspeople as well. After that, the survivors of his killing frenzy wanted his life. To survive, Jamiesonn fled Europe and stowed away on a ship bound for Australia. He knew full-well that if he were to stay in his homeland, he would have been executed for his crimes.
“Several months passed before the ship arrived in Australia. It is rumored that when the shipped docked, no one was seen to depart. For days the ship remained in the docks and when the local authorities did boarded the rumored ‘ghost ship’, they were shocked to find all the crewmen had been horrifically murdered. Some had been beheaded, while others had their flesh torn from their body, while others had been mutilated and obviously forced to eat their own liver. Only something inhuman could have done this. Jamiesonn soon arrived in Gympie, knowing that no one there knew his evil past. He kept his witchcraft in the cupboard, so to speak.
“He tried to live a normal life. Yet, living a normal life was something he could never do. Old habits die hard, and in a short time, his thirst for blood became a pain he could not control. He knew to satisfy his needs for flesh and blood he would have to start up his cult. To the people there, he claimed to be a missionary who could understand mysteries and visions. He also claimed that he had found the ancient scrolls of Abraham. Each month, on the day of the Moon Sabbath, he would deliver a sermon to the people, all to gain their trust and confidence.
“The sacrifices began again, only this time the sermons were far more evil in nature. One dark night, he persuaded several of the townspeople to attend his ‘midnight mass’ so he could ‘pray’ for the lost souls. The people were unsure of his intentions, but still curious. Most were totally intrigued by this man of perdition, but not all of them.
“There was one man among those people who saw right through Jamiesonn. Despite his warnings, the people followed their spiritual leader to his ‘temple.’ Jamiesonn didn’t want his intentions revealed. He took the young man aside, bound and gagged him, then made him the sacrifice for his altar. But something totally unexpected happened in that temple.
“It was said that once Jamiesonn had completed his sacrifice of blood, the eyes of the witnesses were opened, and they saw his real nature they sought to execute him. Jamiesonn fled into the mountains, and despite a search for him, he was never found.
“The townspeople were relieved he was gone, but that feeling was short-lived. Jamiesonn returned to the town exactly one year after his disappearance. Before he could do anything, he was arrested. The records of the time state: It became known unto us that the Wicked One had embarked on a journey forth to our shire to again cast his spell upon our kin. A group of us met by night and laid forth a trap to ensnare him. With the rise of the second moon, he came into our village to fill his hunger for blood. The kin of God ensnared the beast and by the light of night, he was to be hanged by the neck.
“It goes on to say that the ropes which bound his arms and feet were loosed from his body, and the noose snapped. Seeing that he didn’t die, the townspeople bound him in chains and flogged him one hundred times, then shot him repeatedly. His body was marred to the point of being almost unrecognizable. Pieces of flesh hung from his body, but through it all, he still lived. Throughout this barbaric execution, it is reported that he showed no sign of pain or weakness of any kind.
“It goes on to say: We had him tortured to a point that no man could endure, and still he showed no remorse or sorrow. In our attempt to make this man pay for his crimes against God and our brethren, he laughed in our faces. He threatened to kill us all. The soldiers managed to contain his anger by locking him in the stocks, then cutting out his tongue. It seemed that no matter what we did, we could not contain his power. In minutes, he broke out of the stocks. No longer could we stand his ungodliness, so a trooper beheaded him. We all watched as his unholy soul manifested before us. He vanished and was never seen again. The remains of his mortal body were burned to ashes,and thrown into the wind, making it so that he shall never return again.
Drake looked up from his notes at the audience. “As you can see, Jamiesonn’s priority was his own gratification. Even now, for reasons that I have not yet uncovered, his soul remains incarcerated within the domain of his shack. I investigated these spectra, and I have to admit I was lucky to escape alive. Others, though, haven’t been so fortunate. It is believed that if anyone dares to venture near his domain, they shall be destroyed. If, in the unlikely case you do manage to escape, you’ll never be the same again.
“During my investigation, I discovered Jamiesonn has a dire need to have a physical existence. If he manages to find the right host, he will manifest himself in this world, and the cult will be started once again.
“His cult will become the only religion and anyone opposing him shall perish by his power. It is said that if he is successful in his quest, he will become The Evil One that the Book of Revelation warns about.
“It is said that the souls of his victims and followers shall remain in limbo until his spirit is destroyed. His powers are so great that he could possess anyone’s mind, yet he waits for The One to come. The One is believed to be the holder of an ancient power. When he arises, he will have the ability to destroy anything that threatens this world.
“Now, when I think of it, I regret having ever gone to that place and confronting Jamiesonn. In all my years, I have never encountered such tremendous evil and power. Even with all my knowledge of exorcisms, I couldn’t dispel him.”
* * * *
After glancing over at Usher, Drake looked back at the audience. He shifted from one foot to the other and licked his lips. He was nervous, that much was clear, but he wasn’t aware of the evil presence. Alex could sense that the man hated speaking about Jamiesonn. In any case, it was evident to Alex that he had experienced something horrid and he knew he never wanted to face anything like that again. The investigation of Jamiesonn had stolen ten years of his life.
Hesitant to continue, Drake paused before telling the rest of his account. Most of the audience seemed to be intrigued by his presentation, but not Alex or Usher.
Alex focused his attention on the evil presence, which was growing stronger. He tried to define it, but couldn’t. He was an amateur against something like this. If this evil were to appear, then he would die along with everyone else. The only thing he did sense was that man seated on stage could also sense this presence.
Drake concluded his speech a short while later, then asked for questions.
Silence.
Jake stepped up to the microphone and closed out the meeting. Jake spoke to Drake, and then they left the stage and entered the members’ bar. The audience immediately started to disperse. Some left, while others also went to the bar. Alex remained in his seat for some time and thought about the presence he had sensed. That feeling chilled him to his marrow In any case, he wanted to find out more about Jamiesonn. Alex was determined not to let anything get in his way.
Before making his way over to the bar, he stood in the doorway and glanced around the room. Usher was not there, but Drake and Jake were. To find out anything else about Jamiesonn, Alex knew that he’d have to speak with the other man. With that in mind, he went over and stood near Jake, enabling him to listen in to the conversation.
“And so, once I realized that Jamiesonn had the power to destroy anyone, I tried desperately to exorcise him, but my efforts fell short. Let me say this, when I was there, I certainly got my two cents worth.” Drake bragged to those around him.
“So what do you intend to do now?” someone queried.
“Are you going back there to finish your investigation?” someone else asked.
Drake was silent a moment. “Well, to be honest with you, I don’t relish the idea of going back there to face that thing again. But since I am the only one who knows what a destructive force Jamiesonn is, I’m afraid that it is my responsibility to send him into another plane of existence.”
Spoken like a true hero, Alex thought. After all, why did this man care if some damn fool entity was hell-bent on destroying the world? It would never happen anyway, or so he hoped.
Drake was excellent at making himself look good and, without fail, big-noted himself whenever he got the chance. The question was, did he have any intentions of returning to destroy Jamiesonn? Alex did not think so. Underneath that cool smile and that tough talk, he was sure this man was nothing more than a showman.
Half an hour had passed before Alex noticed Drake standing by himself at the bar. Alex watched him carefully, studying Drake’s expressions as he stared into his drink. Here was a classic case of someone being half-drunk, but something else ran deep in this man’s heart, something painful, and it wasn’t Jamiesonn. No, this looked like a man who had lost something close to him.
Drake stared into his glass of scotch and coke. He seemed to be lost in deep thought. There was a lot of pain and guilt in his life. Its signs were etched across his face. The stress had obviously taken its toll on this man, and for a very brief moment, Alex sympathized with him. For that one moment, he felt like being the voice of reason and listening to Drake’s burdens, but he said nothing. He was in no position to offer advice when he had enough of his own problems to deal with. Alex guzzled the rest of his Coke, then went and sat next to Drake. They looked at each other, and said nothing. They just gave one another a nod.
Alex ordered another soda and took a big swig.
“Impressive speech, Mr. . . .”
The man glanced at him then looked back at his half-full glass. “Winters. Drake Winters.”
“So, is what you said true . . . about Jamiesonn, I mean?” Alex asked.
“Every damn part of it,” Drake answered, staring into his drink.
Alex decided to get straight to the point. “Do you intend to go back?”
Drake looked at him, then back to his drink. “Maybe. It depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Depends if I feel like getting my ass kicked again.” He said then drank some more.
“Well, if you don’t mind, I would like to come along, if you decide to return.”
Drake glanced at him then looked back at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar “What for?”
“I want to see for myself, first-hand, just what kind of thing this entity is,” Alex said with a touch of enthusiasm.
Drake looked him up and down and finished his drink.
Alex didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that Drake did not think he had a chance of coming to grips with what Jamiesonn could do.
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not? I have the sense of insight.”
“You and everyone else in this place, kid,” Drake replied. He was silent for a moment. “Look, I’ve got nothing against you, don’t get me wrong, but this thing I’ve investigated is like nothing anyone has ever encountered before. It would be far too dangerous for someone as inexperienced as you to tag along. After all, there’s no telling what could happen.”
“I’ll chance it,” Alex said, his voice firm.
Drake turned to him and said sternly. “Don’t ever gamble with the possibility of death. One day, your luck will run out! There are no second chances. Now, if you will excuse me, there is somewhere else I have to be.” Drake got up off his stool, said his good-byes, and left.
Alex sat at the bar for a few moments, wishing he had gotten more information out of Drake, and now that the opportunity seemed to have gone, he regretted not being friendlier toward the American. He glanced about the bar, and was hesitant to leave, but he had to. He felt compelled to follow Drake.
He stood up, and before he could start to leave, the same old feelings of dread and anxiety struck him, but more powerfully than previously. His breathing quickened, and his palms and forehead broke out in a sweat. His heart started pounding, and he felt nauseous.
There was something here all right. But what? Alex glanced around to see if anyone noticed his odd condition, but no one did. Everyone continued chitchatting and sticking to their own little groups. But as each second passed, that feeling of uneasiness intensified. The glass in his hand began to tremble uncontrollably and his face became clammy and pale.
What the hell is going on here?
He closed his eyes for a moment, and it felt as though the whole room was spinning. The taste of bile rose in his throat. Alex slowly opened his eyes to see a sea of faces staring wildly at him. He hated feeling like this. How he wished that he could just run outside into the cold night air. He wanted this to be nothing more than a dream. He closed his eyes again and wished it was just a dream.
But it wasn’t.
Alex was under attack by an unknown power, and could do nothing about it. He questioned and wondered if anyone was noticing his actions. He opened his eyes to see people gathered around, laughing crazily at him. Some mimicked his trembling body, while others roughly stroked his extremities.
“What do you people want!” he yelled, pushing some of them away.
“Why don’t you just crawl in a hole and die!” a voice bellowed out.
Alex pushed his way desperately through the sea of people, wanting nothing more than to escape this madness. The harder he tried to get to the door, the more impossible it seemed. Thousands of people filled the room until he couldn’t move at all. He heard the continued laughing and mockery. They pressed up against him harshly, making it hard to breathe.
“No more!” he yelled. “Let me out of here!” He swung his fist, striking the three closest people. To his surprise, everyone stopped laughing and as though struck by the power of Death, they all started to fall lifelessly to the ground. It wasn’t long before the people were dead on the ground, just like in his visions.
There was a familiar stench in the air, but not of decaying flesh. No, the smell was definitely alcohol. Alex knew he was in danger. He looked toward the door, which was not far away, and without hesitation ran to his escape.
“Leaving so soon?” a voice snarled from behind him.
Alex froze, only inches from the door, and slowly turned around. Standing behind the bar, pouring a tall glass of scotch was a tall, dark-haired man. Immediately Alex wanted to leave, but knew he had to stay. He did not know exactly why. “Who are you?”
The stranger downed the pint-sized glass of scotch in one long gulp. “You’ll find out when the time comes,” he replied, pouring his second glass. “But for now, you’ll have to be content with the fact that I know who you are.”
Taking a step backward, Alex asked, “Why are you...”
"Doing this?” the stranger finished. “Because I like you. I think you’re damn cute,” he said and winked at him.
“Don’t even think about it,” Alex warned him.
“Come now, Alex. Don’t condemn me for my preference. I am what I am—no more, no less,” the entity stated.
“Cut the crap,” Alex yelled. “Just tell me who you are and why I’m here!”
“You’ll find out who I am when the time comes. As for you being here, how the hell should I know? If you want to leave, you can. I won’t stop you.”
“Somehow I find that difficult to believe,” Alex said.
“Don’t believe me. No one ever seems to believe what I say anyway.” The entity paused for a second then went on with a smirk, “People like you prefer to judge based on what your instinct tells you, and not ever knowing the complexities of the truth that is right in front of their eyes…Funny thing is that people are like horses. Just as bridled horses are directed in which way they need to go, they have no clear knowledge or understanding of what they are doing or where they are going. They are simply lead…Like these lifeless people around you now.”
Alex glanced at the mass of bloodied dead bodies around him then looked back at the entity, who guzzled the glass of scotch then poured another and gestured for Alex to drink.
“Go on. Have one. . . . It won’t kill you.”
“No, thanks.” Alex said, as he turned and went to the door. Just as he got to it, he stopped suddenly, glanced over his shoulder, and watched as the entity continued to drink. Pushing open the door, he saw the conference room. He was about to walk in but stopped again.
He sensed a trap and turned to face the entity. “What’s going on here?”
The being smirked. “Whatever do you mean?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I know that I cannot simply walk out of here without you trying something.”
“You’re right, I tricked you. Must admit, though, I had you going there for a minute, didn’t I?”
He jumped over the bar and walked toward Alex. Alex felt as if his heart would burst from his chest. He knew that he had to stay and fight or run for his life. Yet, he sensed that the odds of damaging this entity were slim, and he wished he had a brilliant plan, but he hadn’t. He was in deep shit, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“So long, kid,” the entity snarled as he pointed at him.
Alex closed his eyes and felt a sudden rush of icy cold wind around his body.
He snapped back to reality with a gasp to find himself still sitting at the bar, holding a glass of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He glanced around the room quickly to see that everything was as it was before. No one was dead, and more importantly, no one had noticed his “trip. ” He looked at the beer for a second then turned his gaze toward the barman.
“Hey, I don’t remember ordering this,” he said.
“Sure you did,” the barman replied, then motioned with his head toward a young woman sitting at the other end of the bar. “You bought one for yourself and one for the lassie down there.”
Alex glanced to his right and saw the woman, smiled at her then stood up and looked around the room. Most of the people he noticed earlier were still there. He saw the clock on the wall nearby and was surprised to see that only a few minutes had passed. The vision he had seen was nothing more than an illusion.
He stubbed the unlit cigarette in the ashtray then headed for the door. He had to catch Drake before he left.
Chapter Two
In the cemetery of Winmont, Jeff had a brilliant idea. The evening had started out like many others. Despite the chill in the air, a group of people, all in their early twenties, doing what they did on most nights—listening to loud music, drinking beer, and making their own fun. What else was there to do in a peaceful town so small it wasn’t on any road map. They knew that no one would bother them here. Most of the townspeople were already in bed. They did this all just for thrills.
Jeff stood up and staggered over to the other side of the campfire. “I’ve got a fantastic idea.”
“What would that be?” one of them asked.
“Let’s perform a ritual!” Jeff said with a wide grin.
His suggestion was met with silence from some and laughter from others.
“Yeah,” agreed one of the drunken guys, “Lets conjure up another case of beer!”
“Yeah! Let’s go!” someone yelled in agreement.
Another guy, Tom, stood up. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. What if something really bad happens?”
“Nothing is going to happen, everything will be fine.” Jeff said, and paused to watch everyone’s reaction, but most were oblivious to his idea. He took a puff on his joint and piped up, “Let’s put it to a vote. All those in favor of a sex ritual, raise your hands.”
That got everyone’s attention, or seemed to. It didn’t take long for people to get on his bandwagon and start to gather their things. And why wouldn’t they? As far as these revelers thought, Jeff was a cool guy.
As great as most everyone thought Jeff was, they had no idea that he knew much more about rituals than he cared to discuss. He was highly intelligent and very occult-smart. He had basically memorized every spell from the Book of Shadows. But he had not always so swayed to the black arts. There had been a time when he had been skeptical about such things, but all that changed a year ago when on one fatal night he had been abducted and blindfolded by some out-of-towners. That fatal night he witnessed firsthand just how sadistic a true ritual sacrifice was. That night changed him forever.
After that night he had become obsessed with the craft. Over a short period, Jeff’s knowledge of the arcane grew until he was secretly ordained into the same cult that abducted him. By rights, he should have stayed clear of these heretics, but he didn’t. He was too filled with lust for power.
Although he knew much of the darkness, he still was naïve when it came to the fullness of what the knowledge and power could do. He didn’t care. Tonight was the night to perform his bloody deed and scare the others out of their minds. The one person he wanted to scare the most was Tom. Tom had stolen Karen, and this was Jeff’s night for revenge.
Jeff had everything planned in his mind. While he performed the ritual of blessings, he would pass around the ritual drink, which would be spiked with Ecstasy, and during the climax of the ritual, he would pull out his handgun, point it at Tom, and give the son of a bitch right one hell of a scare he wouldn’t soon forget by shooting him in the leg. The others would not know what had happened. They would be so damn high that they probably wouldn’t give a shit anyway. To them, it would appear that the single gunshot was a hallucination. Jeff planned to take Karen away to somewhere remote, bind her, gag her, brainwash her and then have his way with her over and over again until he had his fill.
Neither Tom nor Karen would ever know what hit them, and no one would ever suspect that Jeff wanted them both to suffer.
“So where are we going, Jeff?” Tom asked, as he got in the back seat of Jeff’s car.
“A special place. It’s somewhere I like to go to be alone and think,” replied Jeff, then started the car and drove off.
They drove down the highway some distance, until Jeff slowed down near a narrow dirt road that led deep into the forest. The forest was large, and although the area had some interesting scenery for passing tourists, the Clearing was a place that remained hidden from the outside world. It was a distance to walk, but by car, it would take no more than ten minutes to reach their final destination.
* * * *
As gullible as Tom seemed, he was not a fool. He knew that Jeff had had it in for him ever since he started dating Karen, and because of this, he watched what Jeff said and did around him. He knew Jeff was the type of person who lost his temper very easily and more often than not, his bursts of anger were more violent in nature than mere words. For a long time there had been rivalry between Jeff and Tom, and most of it was because of Karen. Both men loved and wanted her, and but only one could be with her. She knew that they both loved her, and sometimes she would use that to her advantage.
The rivalry began a few weeks after Tom and Karen had started dating. In one of Jeff’s bursts of anger he slashed the tires on Tom’s 56 Chevy. That car was Tom’s pride and joy. And why wouldn’t it be? He had spent 6 months of his life restoring the classic car to its former glory, and Jeff destroyed that in a moment of jealous rage. But Tom got his own back by beating Jeff to the point where he put him in the hospital.
A short time later, the cars stopped at the entrance of a large clearing. As they got out of the car, Tom gazed around slowly, taking in the sight of this strange place. Around the edge of the clearing, torches were lit, and in the middle, there was a large stone slab, and various other stone relics were engraved in the dirt ground. This place resembled a temple of sorts of an ancient civilization.
Strange, Tom thought. Almost Druidic in nature.
The first thing Tom found peculiar was the torches. Why were they already lit? As strange as it seemed, the others weren’t the least bit curious. The others got out and continued their revelry. Tom had lost his thirst for beer though. He just stood in front of the car and stared back down the long dark track that led them there.
Throughout the forest, the sounds of music and laughter filled the air. Tom watched as everyone partied like there was no tomorrow. He watched as his friends drank, smoked pot, and danced. Everyone was quite festive. Everyone except Jeff, who seemed very focused on preparing for his ritual.
* * * *
Jeff was oblivious to what everyone was doing. He was intent on making this scheme go off without any problems. He went over to the trunk of his car, and pulled out a black sports bag. It had the equipment he would need. Inside was his book of spells, small bottles of incense oils, herbs, charms, a chuck of charcoal, his ritual dagger, drugs, a chalice, and of course, his handgun.
With the charcoal, he marked the ritual symbols on the stone slab, and with a nearby branch, he marked other symbols on the ground.
A few minutes later, after he had prepared his bag of tricks, he was ready. He got everyone’s attention and asked them to stand in the ritual circle. He watched as everyone came and stood in the circle, and some, more than others, swayed and looked like they were ready to pass out. . . . But still they drank.
He looked at each one of them, only for a moment, and noticed their faces well. He noticed how nervous Tom looked. He liked that. But he didn’t like seeing Tom holding Karen’s hand firmly.
Jeff began reciting the prayer of the dead, and then went into speaking in tongues. As he continued, he pointed at Tom.
“Stand in the triangle symbol that points toward the east.”
“Why?” Tom asked.
“The ritual won’t work unless there is a positive force to counteract with the negative energy I am summoning,” he answered.
“No!” Tom said, his voice firm.
Jeff flared his nostrils and clenched his jaw, yet hid his anger. “Come on, Tom, just trust me. Nothing will go wrong. You have my word.”
It took some coaxing from Karen and the others, but hesitantly, Tom went over to the symbol and stood in its center. Jeff said nothing, but on the inside, he was laughing.
I’ve got you now, he thought. Jeff focused his attention back on the ritual book. As he continued to recite the verses, he handed the chalice of wine to one of the others, and one by one they drank until Karen drank from the chalice then passed it to Tom. He was the last to drink. He was hesitant, but drank anyway then tossed the chalice to the ground.
This was the moment Jeff had been waiting for, and he was overwhelmed with delight. Jeff wanted to finish Tom off. Just one damn shot and it would all be over. He was sure no one knew of his intentions or even suspected that he had a gun. It was well concealed in the velvet cloth, which was on the raised slab, right next to Jeff’s right hand.
Jeff looked at his friends as he spoke, and he could see that the drug taking effect. Now the time was right to do Tom in, but he also felt compelled to finish reading the spell. As he read the last sentence of the incantation, he could feel his whole body begin to change. A blue and red aura surrounded his body, then his skin became deathly pale, and he felt his eyes darken. Jeff could see right into Tom’s soul, and what he saw was fear.
Not wanting to stick around, Tom stumbled over to Karen, grabbed her by the hand and started to flee. The others started to stagger away, but their efforts were in vain. The drug had taken hold, and one by one they passed out until only Tom and Karen remained.
Just as Jeff had anticipated, neither Tom and Karen passed out as they had been the last ones to drink from the chalice, but what they did drink was enough for them to feel woozy.
“What the hell are you doing, Jeff!” Tom slurred.
“You know exactly what I am doing, you son of a bitch,” Jeff yelled. With that, he took out the gun and stepped toward them.
* * * *
Tom’s vision may have been nothing more than a blur, but he could make out the distinct shape of the gun Jeff was holding. With what strength he had, he tried to run but he couldn’t. All he could do was stagger aimlessly in circles.
Karen staggered over to Jeff and tried to fight for her man by yelling and hitting and trying to scratch Jeff’s eyes out, but her efforts were in vain. With one swift move, Jeff punched her in her face, and she fell unconscious to the ground. He sneered at her and continued toward Tom.
“You’re gonna kill me because of her?” Tom yelled, his voice cracking with fear. “Killing me over a woman is not the answer!”
“Au contraire!” Jeff said. “I am not gonna kill you because of her. I am gonna kill you for what you did to me.”
“What did I ever do to you?”
“You stole my life you bastard! You went behind my back and fucked my woman while I worked my ass off at the fucking mill.”
“Jeff, we never meant for anything to happen,” Tom said, trying to reason him.
“But it did,” Jeff yelled. “And it’s too late for apologies.” He paused for a moment, his breathing coming hard and fast. “For fuck’s sake, you were supposed to be my best fucking friend. And look what you did to me!”
Tom was silent. He knew that there was nothing he could do. He swallowed dryly and waited for Jeff to squeeze that trigger.
“Get it over with for fuck’s sake,” Tom muttered. “I am not afraid to die.”
“You’re not afraid to die!” He mocked with a sadistic smirk. “Take one last look at her, asshole. Tonight you sleep in hell.” Pointing the gun at Tom’s head, he added, “This is the way it has to be,” he snarled. “Goodbye old friend.”
Tom took one last look toward Karen, who was unconscious on the ground. If only he could tell her one last time that he loved her. But instead all he had time to think was, “I love-”
A single gunshot echoed throughout that place and Tom’s lifeless body collapsed to the ground.
Jeff looked at Tom’s dead body and looked at the smoldering gun in his hand.
“Oh fuck what have I done?” He cried out in panic, as he went and stood over Tom’s body, and stared at his first kill. For someone who had planned this for weeks and as much delight as he thought he would get out of it, he felt anything but victorious.
“How the hell could I miss!” He argued with himself, “It was meant to scare him not damn well kill him!”
Oh fuck, he thought. He realized that he was now a murderer. What was he going to do? He sure as hell could not recite some spell and raise the son of a bitch from the dead. Nor could he simply sweep this under the carpet and hope to God that no one discovered his secret. He was in deep shit, and he knew it. Now, he wondered if anyone beyond the clearing had heard the gun shot.
He knew there was a campground nearby somewhere.
Was anyone there this time of year? Shit, that was something he forgot to check. As perfect as his plan seemed, he was now realizing that there were things that he had overlooked.
And that was not all. Sooner or later, his friends—all seven of them—were bound to wake up. How would he explain what had happened? He could not just tell them that Tom went to take a leak and never returned. He knew that Karen and all her friends would tell the cops, and then a fucking search party would scour this place until he was found. Sure, he could bury his kill, but what if the dogs found the corpse? Oh shit, he was in deep.
He started to pace like a caged animal. He was desperate to find a way out of this shit he got himself into. Irrational ideas came to mind, and in his panic, all he could think was, No witnesses. Sure, he could kill the rest of them, but what the hell would he do with the bodies? What about Karen? Sure he had intended to kill her, but seeing what he had already done to Tom, he did not think that he could go through with the rest of his warped plan.
“No witnesses,” he finally muttered. He knew that if he allowed the others to live, one of them would turn him in, and he was adamant that he was not going to jail. Shit, he now wished that he hadn’t brought the gun.
It was only meant to scare him. He tried to reason within himself. The prick provoked me, so he got what was coming to him, another sinister part of his inner self retorted.
With the latter thought in mind, he began to execute the others. He did his deed swiftly and carefully. He planned to make it look like a gang execution. The only thing he had in his mind as he carried out his deed was the thought of Tom having sex with Karen. That alone drove him with enough rage to carry out his deed without question or remorse. Two he shot, and the others he stabbed in the chest and face with the ritual dagger. He did other things, too, to make it look like some kind of satanic killings. One person, he cut off his head and disemboweled him.
To one of the girls, he tore off her clothes, shoved the dagger inside her vagina, and dissected her like a lab rat. The others he mutilated and cut into pieces, and what was left, he burned in the bonfire. The place was a fucking bloodbath. He had killed everyone except Karen and thought that he was in the clear.
She woke up screaming. He turned to see her standing before him and looking around at the blood that now covered the ground.
“Jeffery?” she whimpered.
“Karen . . .”
“Why?” she cried.
Jeff shook his head. “Why what?”
He stared at her, and as much as he tried, he knew he could not hide that look of guilt in his eyes, nor could he hide the evidence of blood that covered his clothes.
“You bastard. You killed them! Why the fuck did you have to kill them?”
He had no answers to give her. But he knew that if he allowed her to walk away, she would tell the cops.
“I had to,” was the only thing he said as he started to walk slowly toward her. “I did it for us.”
“For us?” she screamed. “There is no us! There never was an us! I loved him, goddamn it!”
He stopped and glared at her. As much guilt as he felt for committing mass murder, there was something about Karen that he did not like. And that was the thought of her with another man. Especially Tom.
“You were meant to be with me!” he yelled, pointing at her.
“I never loved you, Jeff! And I never will!”
That cut him deeply. He swallowed dryly and forced back the tears from his eyes. He wanted to show his emotions but he didn’t. Instead of crying like the heartbroken jealous coward he was, his anger rose up inside him and fueled his state of delusion all the more. With that, all he could do was pull out his gun and point it at her.
“If I can’t have you, bitch, then no one will!” he yelled as he prepared to kill her.
She cowered from him and begged him not to kill her, but her words fell on deaf ears. He wanted a way out of this situation, and rather than stick to the original plan, he decided to execute the bitch, to make it appear as though she had planned the whole thing while he fled that shithole of a town and started a new life in a place no one knew him.
He stepped over to her and hit her in the mouth with the butt of his pistol. She fell to the ground and looked up at him fearfully.
“As I told Tom before I killed his ass, tonight you sleep in hell,” he said as he took aim at her face.
Before he could fire, a bright green orb appeared and flew around them rapidly. Both of them watched the strange light as it slowed and hovered above them. Jeff’s only concern up until that point was the thought of being caught. It was obvious what Karen feared. She feared him, and she feared death even more. She knew death was something she was not prepared for. Her soul was far from ready. Jeff stepped away from her and watched the light with a mixture of fear and curiosity. It circled them a few times then shot off into the forest at the far side of the clearing, disappearing as it entered the trees.