Authors: James Arthur Anderson
Tags: #ramsey campbell, #Horror, #dean koontz, #dark fantasy stephen king
“When are you going to do something about that thing on your neck?” Crissy said. “You should have it looked at. It’s gross.”
“I’m taking care of it tonight,” Seti replied. “Now shut the fuck up.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to help.”
Seti turned around and headed back to the plaza on Route 102. He had avoided the area in the past. You don’t shit where you eat, he’d always been told. But after tonight none of that would matter. The thing would be too powerful to stop. He pulled in at the Dairy Mart and parked the van.
“You want to help? Then shut up and do what I tell you.”
Seti hunched down in the seat a little and waited. It was just 6:30, a busy time for the convenience store. He watched as a middle-aged man came out. Then a fat lady. A car pulled up and a younger man in a business suit got out and hurried into the store. Probably one of those investment assholes, Seti thought, picking up a frozen dinner or something. A few minutes later, he came back out with a small bag and drove away. Then finally, he saw what he was looking for.
He could tell by the car, a luxury SUV, that its occupant was a young mother—one of those soccer Moms who’s husband probably worked three jobs in order to be able to buy expensive shit they had and left her to cart the kids around to baseball practice, dance recitals, and whatever it was that spoiled yuppie kids did these days. Yeah, this one would be perfect.
His suspicions were confirmed when the slightly overweight and dowdy Mom got out of the car with a spoiled teenage girl in tow—probably about 16 years old or so. Actually, the woman wouldn’t be so bad looking if she cleaned herself up a bit and didn’t try so hard to look like supermom with the me-ma long dress and sensible shoes. Hey, lady, how about some makeup and a trip to the hair stylist, he thought. The daughter was much better looking though, dressed like a slut in a short denim skirt that rode up the back of her soft, white ass.
“She’s the one,” he said to Crissy.
“What do you want me to do?”
“When she comes out of the store you go up to her and ask for help. You’re a college student and you’re having car trouble. Get her over to the van. I’ll take care of the rest.”
He patted the gun in his belt for emphasis.
“Now get out and look pathetic until she comes back out of the store.”
Crissy was, if nothing else, good at looking stupid and helpless, and her act worked like a charm. Seti hunched down in the back of the van and watched the woman and her slutty daughter come over.
“Maybe you could help me,” Crissy was saying. “I’ve got some jumper cables inside....”
Seti waited until Crissy opened the door, and then he timed his move, grabbing the kid first, covering her mouth with one hand and putting the gun to her head.
“Lady, get inside or I blow the kid’s brains out.”
The woman’s mouth dropped open. She looked like she wanted to scream, but she couldn’t find her voice, and by then Crissy was pushing her inside. Seti motioned her to sit on the floor.
“You drive,” he said to Crissy, who shut the back door.
It was as simple as taking candy from a baby.
-5-
Erik had no idea how difficult it was to sit still. Thralls had found a relatively comfortable spot for them behind some trees, and had wrapped them both up in camouflage materials so they’d fit in. But as the minutes turned to hours, his back had begin to hurt, then he’d started to itch everywhere. His legs fell asleep, his feet cramped up and he constantly fought back the urge to sneeze. It was a miserable experience, especially when the sun went down and the mosquitoes showed up in battalions. He couldn’t talk, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even imagine what was going to go down tonight. The waiting was almost unbearable. The suspense and the anticipation were driving him crazy. And the worst part, he felt like he always had to go to the bathroom. He didn’t know how the SWAT teams did it. They must have been specially trained just to hold their bladders.
He flipped the switch on his digital watch to see the time. It was 11:35 at night, just ten minutes since he’d checked last. Jay Leno would just be starting his monologue, and the news of the day would be over. He’d been here for hours but it seemed like days. And who knew if anything even was going to happen. The demon had already killed once today. Why would it strike again so soon? Still, something warned him that it would happen tonight.
He thought he heard a scuffling in the trees and wondered if it were the breeze, or maybe one of these elite officers was as restless as he was. He would have found the thought somehow comforting. He relaxed for a moment and then realized that something was moving through the field ahead of him. It was a line of people wearing white robes and carrying torches. It reminded him of the Ku Klux Klan rally he’d seen years ago in Washington when a dozen or so clan members marched and the government had to close down the entire city to protect them from protesters. This group looked almost as pathetic.
He looked more closely, trying to make out details through the flickering of the torch flames. He recognized the leader—the thing on his head was almost the size of a basketball now, and it flopped unceremoniously from side to side as he walked. It was almost comical, because he tried to walk slowly and dignified, like a professor at commencement exercises, but the thing on his neck made it look all the more ridiculous. Erik almost laughed. Perhaps he had given these idiots more credit than they deserved. Maybe Collins had just lost his marbles for the moment, and these fools had no more power than a defrocked priest.
Then he noticed a naked woman and teenage girl, being led along by the group. The two looked as if they had been beaten and perhaps drugged. They seemed to have no mind of their own as they walked along, flanked on either side by tall men in white robes.
Erik looked around quickly to see what the reaction of the police would be. So far, though, they did nothing.
Erik counted twelve others in white robes in addition to the leader. They slowly circled the altar stone with the leader taking his place at the stone’s head. He nodded and the woman and girl were placed on the stone. They huddled together, holding one another for warmth and comfort. Only now did they seem to be aware of their surroundings. He heard the girl begin to whimper.
“Please let her go,” the woman said. “She’s just a child.”
Erik heard a click, followed by a bird call, the signal that the troops were about to move into action. Thank God, he thought. The last thing he needed was to witness another killing today, particularly that of an innocent woman and her child. He held his breath and waited.
The leader raised his hands up over his head and shouted a brief chant. Erik could feel the troops moving, inching forward. But he could also feel something else, something sinister. A mist appeared out of nowhere just as the SWAT Team moved forward. The cult leader turned to look at the advancing troops, then closed his eyes. His head slumped to the side on his shoulders, and the growth on his neck seemed to straighten up and come to life.
“Halt!” Thralls shouted. “No one move! We have you surrounded.”
The leader held his hands over his head for a moment, as if obeying the command. Then he took a step forward into the sacrificial stone. At first, Erik thought it was a trick of the light, or the mist, or of his own fatigue or nerves. The growth on the leader’s neck was forming into a definite shape now, and the leader took another step into the stone. The entire lower half of his body, from the waist down, absorbed itself
into
the stone.
The woman and girl began to scream in agony as the thing came toward them, rippling through the stone like a tidal wave. Someone opened fire on the leader, but if the shot hit, it had no effect. Other shots rang out, and the twelve followers in white robes began to scream and scatter. One of them jerked backward and dropped; a smear of blood appeared on his back. Another was shot in the head and dropped. But still the leader advanced across the terrible stone like a ripple through a still pond.
The scene was a war zone now. The victims on the slab screamed in agony as they, too, were literally absorbed by this thing that had turned into a monster. It was growing larger and was glowing a bright red, like a hot piece of coal in a campfire. The original leader’s head had all but disappeared into the molten mass the creature had become. Erik could just see the tiny face contorted in the worst kind of agony imaginable. The SWAT team peppered the thing with gunfire, but the bullets seemed to pass straight through, or were absorbed into the stone itself, which had also become like molten lava.
The woman and her daughter burst into sudden flames, and the demon rose up like a rearing cobra, spitting flame like poison. Erik watched in horror as the flame hit an officer, immediately transforming him into a red-hot inferno. He felt another shot of flame pass just to his right where it caught a fleeing officer and incinerated him on the spot. The heat from the blast singed the hair on Erik’s right arm as he’d held it over his face.
He snuck a quick look back at the altar stone. It resembled a huge funeral pyre now as the stone, the sacrificial victims, and the demon all burned with an intense fury, lighting up the night sky. The SWAT team had given up the fight now, and were either dead, dying, or running for their lives. Erik had no idea what happened to Thralls, and didn’t wait around to find out. Dovecrest was right. This was no ordinary battle. His only chance was to escape, regroup, and determine how to destroy this thing before it really was too late.
He looked back once as he ran and saw what looked like the entire forest engulfed in flames. Then again, maybe it already was too late, he thought grimly.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
-1-
Erik had no idea how he found his way through the woods and back home. His survival was strictly due to luck and not based on any special skills or abilities of his own. As far as he could tell, the entire SWAT team had been destroyed in a horrible attack of flame, molten lava and brimstone. It was as if the gates of hell themselves had opened and exploded like a volcano into the woods. The demon was definitely ready now, having absorbed the power from the stone as well as two new victims and the body of the cult leader.
He found the path leading to his backyard, and only when he saw the lights from the house did he realize where he was. He had suffered burns on his right arm, and had scratched himself badly on his flight through the woods. His clothes were covered with a coating of black ash, and his pants had been ripped in several places. In short, he looked like he’d survived a fierce battle. In point of fact, he had.
Vickie saw him first, as she looked through the glass sliding doors in the kitchen. Though he couldn’t hear her, he saw her throw her hands up in the air and come running out. Pastor Mark followed. Todd, he guessed, was already in bed.
She ran through the haze of the backyard flood lights and wrapped her arms around him.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, looking at him. “Erik, what happened!”
“It’s a long story,” he said. “The...the demon. It is real. It destroyed the SWAT team. I don’t know how I got away.”
“Erik, what are you talking about?”
“Vickie, this thing is much worse that just a cult. I should have told you sooner....”
“There will be time to explain all of that later,” Pastor Mark said. “Right now we need to look to our own safety.”
Erik struggled to find the right words. “It...came to life. Took form. It was...fire and brimstone. I think they’re all dead. All of the police.”
“Did it follow you?”
“No. I don’t think so. But I don’t know what it will do next.”
“Ok,” Mark said. “I’m going to call the State Police and put them on alert. Vickie, you go and get Todd ready.”
“Where are we going?”
“For right now at least, I think we’d be safer at the church.”
Vickie nodded. “Erik, go clean up as best you could and put something on those burns. Just do it quickly.”
“Ok. But Mark are the State Police actually going to believe us?”
“They will when they can’t raise their SWAT team on the radio. And when they don’t come back out of the woods.”
“Right. Let’s go, then. I’m afraid we’re too close to the action here.”
-2-
Dovecrest was awakened early the next morning by a guard clanging on the bars of his cell with a nightstick.
“Come on, get up! We’re taking you out of here.”
Dovecrest rubbed his eyes and sat up on the cot.
“Hurry up!” the guard said. “We’ve got to go.”
“Don’t I have time to clean up?”
“No time for that. I have orders to get you out of here now.”
“I’d like to clean up a bit for court.”
“You’re not going to court.”
“Then where the hell am I going?”
“Protective custody. The call just came in. Now move.”
“I think I need to call my attorney,” Dovecrest said, as the guard opened the cell and led him out. He noticed on the office clock that it was only six a.m.
“Look, you can call whoever you want when we’re where we’re supposed to be. But right now we’ve got to get out of here.”
Dovecrest noticed that the guard didn’t even put handcuffs on him, but just led him directly through the building towards the back door.
“Can you give me any idea of what’s going on?”
“I couldn’t tell you if I knew, but that’s irrelevant ‘cause I don’t know. All I do know is that there’s been an incident in the woods and a lot of cops were killed. Whoever did it may be after you next. That’s more than I should have told you but it’s all I know.”
Things had escalated to the next level, then. Just as he had thought. Now everyone was in grave danger.
The guard led him outside, where a car was waiting with two armed officers inside. They opened the door and he climbed into the back.
Dovecrest sensed the commotion before anyone was aware of it. He felt the hairs on his neck tingle, and could sense a flow of energy, as if a lightening bold had struck nearby.
“Hurry up,” he said to the officers.
The driver put the car in gear and rushed backward, then turned around. Dovecrest felt the energy come closer. Then, as the car turned out of the back parking lot, he saw it, in the driveway right in front of them. The driver screeched on the brakes and screamed.
The thing had already transformed. Dovecrest saw it for only a moment before the fireball hit the car, but the vision was engraved upon his brain like an epitaph on a tombstone. It wasn’t that large as monsters go—maybe six feet or so, though he expected it would grow if it wanted to. But what it lacked in size, it made up for in ferocity. The thing still had a human shape, of sorts. But its flesh was molten and dripping, like red-hot lava. It’s eyes were black coals, and the thing literally dripped fire. Its open mouth was a black, yawning pit that seemed to open into hell itself.
Most horrible of all, though, was the human head growing from the side of its molten neck. It was the cult leader—Dovecrest had only seen his face for a moment, but he recognized him just the same. The leader had been absorbed, transformed by the demon. The human face writhed and screamed in unabashed agony. Dovecrest almost felt pity for the leader who had once been human.
Then he saw a fireball fly from the demon and, within an instant, engulf the patrol car. Dovecrest ducked behind the seat as the flames blazed around him. He felt the car turning over. The engine blew, smashing into the front seat. The doors blew off, and Dovecrest felt himself thrown out and across the parking lot.
The demon was seeking him—he knew that—but its fury was out of control. State Troopers were swarming from the barracks like bees defending their nest, but their weapons had no more impact on the thing than if they were bees stinging a campfire. Bullets were either absorbed into the lava or just passed through. The thing was walking fire and brimstone, straight from the depths of hell.
Dovecrest found himself watching the debacle from behind a tree where the explosion had thrown him into the woods next to the driveway. He was sore and had twisted his arm badly, and he had a few minor burns, but he’d been fortunate enough to have been in the back seat, protected by the heavy barrier that separated prisoners from the police. He tried to get up and run away, but his breath had completely left him.
The demon caught one fleeing officer by the neck and pulled him back into its embrace. The man seemed to stand still in time for a single moment, and then erupted into a raging inferno, as if he had been dipped in lighter fluid and held to a hot flame. His screams pierced the early morning stillness of the tiny community. Others took cover inside the barracks, but the monster followed them inside.
The thing literally walked
through
the door, turning it into flaming kindling wood in a mere second. Dovecrest heard the sound of explosions from inside. A trooper may have tossed a grenade at the monster, but it only added fuel to the fire. A few more small explosions followed; then tongues of fire blew out the windows and licked at the morning air. Several officers, burning like flares, swarmed from the building and dropped to the ground in a desperate attempt to put themselves out.
Dovecrest felt his breath returning to him slowly and he knew the time had come to get away. It was now or never. If the thing found him, his suffering would be especially prized, since he was the one that had imprisoned the monster for so long. Slowly, he backed away from the road and into the woods, keeping his eye on the burning barracks.
With one final Fourth of July explosion, the entire thing seemed to boil and then blow, sending the roof of the building high into the air and collapsing everything inside in hot, red flames and acrid smoke. The thing went up like a fireball. Dovecrest knew nothing human could survive the explosion. Moments, later, the demon emerged, larger than ever, molten and dripping with coal black eyes and a mouth of black pitch. The thing walked easily from the fire and shook itself off, like a dog that had fallen in a lake.
Dovecrest didn’t wait around for the sequel. He fled into the ancient woods that he knew so well.
-3-
Erik and his family had hastily packed some clothes and supplies and followed Pastor Mark to the church.
“This place may offer some sanctuary,” Mark said. “A demon would be uncomfortable here, in a holy place, I think.”
Erik nodded but he wasn’t sure how much good holiness would do right now. He didn’t think he could stop this thing just by waving a crucifix at it. Perhaps if they could conjure up an army of angels of their own....
The church was fairly large for a small town, and had several classrooms, and a fellowship hall with a kitchen in the basement. The place was very secure and doubled as a shelter in case of an emergency. Erik guessed that this situation qualified.
The pastor’s residence was attached to the back, a small, one bedroom unit with a garage.
“I think we should all stay here for now,” Mark said.
Erik turned on the television in one of the classrooms to catch a glimpse of the morning news. What he saw shocked and horrified him. The news footage was showing what was left of the State Police barracks, which had been incinerated early this morning. The authorities were claiming it was a possible terrorist attack, and had mobilized the National Guard. There was also mention of an attack in the woods during the night where, they claimed, the F.B.I. had first encountered the terrorist group and had been outgunned.
“How else would they explain it?” Mark said. “Nobody’d buy it if they called it what it was.”
“People will believe anything except the truth,” Erik said. “Do you think it was after Dovecrest?”
“Definitely. And by the looks of it, I’d say it got him. We’re on our own, my friend.”
-4-
What was left of Seti could no longer be called human, yet it had human thoughts and feelings. The pain was so intense that he could barely think, barely remember, and not even hope to fight back. The thing had taken him over completely—no, not completely. That would be merciful. There was just enough of him left to suffer and to regret.
This thing had not turned out the way he had hoped. No life of luxury and pleasure for him now—just eternal suffering and damnation. For the first time in his life he could understand the meaning of hell. He was probably dead. His body was gone. That much was obvious. All that remained was his head and face and brain perched atop this demon’s neck like a demonic version of a Siamese twin. He felt nothing below the neck and only the agony of burning above it. Yet, by some perverse miracle, his flesh did not burn. It only felt as if it were constantly on fire. He was probably immortal now, he suspected. Be careful what you wish for....
Even his screams of agony were dwarfed by the sounds of the demon’s internal furnace, which never seemed to run out of hellish fuel. He could feel his screams vibrating in his throat, but couldn’t hear them. It was as if he shrieked into a vacuum.
The demon itself no longer paid any attention to him. He could experience its thoughts, such as they were. Mostly the thing emanated raw hatred and raw evil beyond anything that Seti could ever have imagined. He was experienced in the art of evil and violence. But his feeble hatred was nothing compared to the all-consuming evil of this mind, where it was built into the very fabric of its existence. Seti no longer tried to communicate with the beast. His suffering was all that it required of him now.
He had seen the destruction of the SWAT team in the woods, but his suddenly being engulfed in the flames and lava of the monster made the memory very sketchy. He couldn’t really see, but could only experience what occurred around him, all through a very thick layer of pain. He’d seen the Police Barracks go up in flames, and that had almost pleased him, if it were possible to be pleased in this condition. And he’d seen the Indian, the one the demon hated, as he’d escaped into the woods. He hadn’t bothered to tell his tormenter about that. It was his one small victory—and his one miniscule hope.
-5-
By noontime, the tiny town of Chepachet Rhode Island was on every news station in the country. From what Erik and Mark could tell, the demon had disappeared, at least for the moment. Or, at any rate, the authorities couldn’t find it.
“Maybe it’s gone back to where it came from,” Erik said.
“No. I don’t think so. It’s probably back at its altar stone gaining strength. As if it needs to.”
“Maybe it needs sleep, like we do.”
“Either that or it’s moving on to someplace bigger, where it can do more damage. It’s hard to say. All we can do is pray at this point.”
Erik nodded. But he didn’t think prayer alone would bring an end to this. After all, God helps those who help themselves.
“Dovecrest knew more about this thing than anyone. Do you think we could find anything at his place?”
The pastor shrugged. “It’s worth a try. Do you think the thing will go there?”
Erik thought for a moment. “Not if it already killed Dovecrest. What would it want at his cabin? We could make it over there in just a couple of minutes, check it out, and be back within the hour.”
“What about Vickie and Todd?” the pastor asked.
“I think they’ll be ok here. They’re as safe here as anywhere, I guess. And the church staff is around. They won’t be alone.”
The pastor nodded. “All right, then. Let’s make this quick.”
Todd was in the secretary’s office playing with her computer. Erik told Vickie where he was going and that he’d be right back.
“I’d rather you didn’t leave,” she said.
“I’m not doing any good here. I feel like I’ve got to do something.”
“You men are all alike,” she said. “Just hurry back. We need you here, too.”
He kissed her and then he and Mark got into the pastor’s car and headed down route 102. Dovecrest’s place was only a half a mile away and the roads were deserted. They pulled up at the Indian’s cabin minutes later.