Read Crimson Falls (The Depravity Chronicles) Online
Authors: Joshua Grove
“What it could
be is something other than a human. Other than an animal,” Anish said without
emotion or inflection in his voice.
“I’m lost,” Anna
confessed with a hint of impatience. “There isn’t anything else there could
be.” She almost confused herself with her statement.
“There are many
things outside of humans and animals, my friends,” Anish said softly. “The
animal kingdom does not exist by itself in nature.”
“No, there are
plants, too,” Anna said, catching herself off guard with her attitude.
“I apologize,
Anna,” Anish said as he finally looked at her. “I do not mean to frustrate you
with my responses. I simply do not have an answer that will satisfy you.”
“Why not?” she
said, a bit dumbfounded.
“Because the
kingdom from which I derive my answers lies outside your zone of comfort and
base of knowledge.”
“And what
kingdom would that be?” Anna asked. She looked in the rearview mirror again at
David. “Any idea what he’s talking about?”
“Yes, Anna, and
that’s why I brought him here.”
“Could someone
please tell me what the hell this conversation is about?” she moaned.
“Anna, the
kingdom to which I am referring lies outside of what you believe to be the
natural world,” Anish said.
“You mean
supernatural?” Anna asked, almost laughing at herself for saying it out loud.
She shook her head.
“Supernatural?
By your cultural definition, yes,” Anish said. “But this lies far beyond
simplistic rationalizations and logical explanations for things that go bump in
the night.”
“You seem like a
nice man, Anish. And you seem like you don’t take any crap. So I’m going to
just say it,” Anna said.
“By all means,”
Anish replied.
“Are you trying
to tell me that this is some sort of spiritual thing? That our killer is not
human?”
“As I said
before, Anna, I cannot be sure. But understand that when I say that, I am not
saying that
a
human is not involved. I am simply saying that if the
killer is human, he is also nonhuman.”
“What does
that
mean?” Anna asked, flustered again.
“It simply means
that our killer is conspiring with forces that are not of the physical world as
you know it,” Anish said.
“You mean you
think it’s Satanism or something like that?” Anna asked, astounded.
“Something like
that,” Anish said. “I will know more once I have seen the body and have had the
necessary time to investigate.”
Anna pushed her
foot down against the gas, almost doubling their speed. Although David’s office
was three miles down the road, they got there in less than five minutes. When
she pulled into the lot and parked, she put both hands on the wheel and
squeezed it hard.
“I’m not sure
how I feel about this,” Anna said. “I’m just trying to be honest.”
“And I
appreciate your honesty and understand your skepticism,” Anish responded. “I will
return your honesty with a bit of my own. Regardless of how you might feel, it
does not make the situation any less real.”
Anna couldn’t
argue with him there. “I understand that.”
“Are you a woman
of faith, Anna?” Anish asked.
“Uh, yes, I am.
I am a Christian.”
“It does not
matter what your faith is, Anna. Just that you have it. And most importantly,
that you keep it.”
I’ll do my best
, she thought to
herself.
“And it is most
crucial that you make sure your best is good enough to maintain that faith and
hope,” Anish said.
Had I said that
out loud?
Anna
thought to herself. She looked at Anish before stepping out of the car. “I’ll
do my best,” she said out loud to him.
“You do that,”
Anish said. They walked again in silence toward the morgue and the body of Alan
Brickton.
“Anish?” Anna
said as they passed through the entrance doors.
“Yes, Anna?”
“Do you have
faith?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“I live by it,”
he said.
“Faith is
overrated,” David said rudely.
“So is the reign
of science over thousands of years of wisdom and ancestral knowledge,” Anish
quipped.
“We’ll see which
one comes out on top,” David teased. Both men laughed.
“Faith is
already victorious,” Anish said as if it were a widely accepted truth. “You
just don’t know it yet. Now, take me to the body.”
For the third
time in the brief span since they had met in her office, they walked in silence
as they entered the morgue.
1
Michael
struggled against the man feeding on his neck. The grotesque gurgling sounds of
blood caused such a wretched feeling in his body he wasn’t sure he could handle
it. But he knew he didn’t have any choice. He held his breath, hoping he would
pass out from lack of air. It didn’t work.
“Please just
kill me, Alan. Please put me out of my misery,” he begged. He now understood
what it must feel like to be raped or violated in some terrible way. He wanted
nothing more than to kill him, to rip him apart limb by wicked limb. He tried
to rip his hands free of the chains that bound him, but all he did was rip more
skin from his wrists.
Michael was
continuously groaning, wanting to stop so the bastard didn’t get any pleasure
from it. But it was just one more thing he could not control. He spit on him,
tried to bite him, but nothing could keep this sociopath from licking, biting,
and sucking his neck. Nothing could stop this creature from eating him alive.
Michael was almost to the point where he believed that Alan might be a vampire.
The thought was so absurd he shoved it away. Then again, all of this was so
ridiculously unnatural that almost anything could be possible.
Suddenly Alan
stopped his insane gorging, twisting to the side as if he had heard something.
Michael tried to look through his peripheral vision, afraid to turn his head.
He saw a faint glow of light, almost like candles had been lit in the distance.
A deep, raspy growl came from Alan and he loosened his tight grip on Michael.
Jumping on the opportunity, Michael kicked Alan in the groin as hard as he
could. Certainly he would feel that pain. Instead, Alan looked directly in
Michael’s eye and grinned. Although it only lasted a few seconds at most,
Michael could have sworn he saw Alan’s face change. His lips seemed to
disappear, revealing terrible teeth and the stench of rotting meat.
Alan let go and
in a flash he was gone. Michael was not even sure which direction he had run.
He was there and then he wasn’t. He figured something must have spooked him,
but even with the bastard out of sight, Michael still couldn’t escape. The only
thing that could save him was another person. But even then, Alan was probably
lurking in the dark somewhere, waiting to add to his buffet of human flesh and
blood.
Help me!
Michael tried to
say, but all he could do was think it. When he tried to speak, his throat hurt
so terribly that he thought he was going to pass out from the pain.
I can’t pass out
now! Not when help may be here
! He was afraid to even think it was
possible that he could survive this nightmare. He remembered in his training
that people should cling to hope in survival situations, but at this point hope
seemed to be his enemy.
He tried to
speak again, but nothing came out. It was like he was in a dream where he
couldn’t scream and couldn’t run. The sound of voices began drifting toward
him. They faded in and out.
I’m
hallucinating
,
he thought to himself.
No one is coming to get me. I’m going to die in this
place. My God, I’m going to die
.
Michael decided
that no matter how much it hurt, or how difficult it was to make sound, he
needed to try to scream. After a few failed and painful attempts, he managed to
let out a decent howl.
“
Help me!”
Silence.
* * * * * *
2
“It is ungodly
cold in here,” Amy said as she wrapped her arms around herself.
“Ungodly
indeed,” Matthew agreed. They slowly followed the narrow, underground passage
beneath the Brickton house. “I’m getting the feeling that we are no longer
under the house.”
“Gee, whatever gave
you that impression?” Amy laughed. “Perhaps it’s because it feels like we’ve
been walking for a long time?”
“It’s amazing to
think that we must be beneath the woods. I wonder how they managed to move the
roots without destroying the trees.”
“Really?” Amy
asked, amazed. “That’s what you’re wondering to yourself? I would think we
should be more concerned with what’s ahead of us or behind us than what’s above
us. And certainly that’s more important than how they built this tunnel.”
Matthew knew she
was right, but it was simply a defense mechanism he developed when studying
exorcism at the Vatican. Sometimes it’s better to let the mind work on the
difficult tasks unconsciously. Meanwhile, you wonder about trees, rocks, and
home décor.
“It’s just
something I do,” was all he could say to her.
“I get that,”
Amy sighed. “Honestly, I was just thinking about whether I should get new
glasses. All I ever do is push these damned things up my nose.” She paused.
“That didn’t sound right.”
Matthew laughed.
“I would imagine pushing them up your nose might prove to be a difficult task.
And painful.”
“Seriously,
though,” Amy began, “What do you think we’ll find ahead of us?”
“My gut tells me
that we will find some sort of sanctuary,” he mused.
“I’m imagining a
beautiful bird sanctuary,” she joked.
“No, I’m
thinking more like a sanctuary at one of our churches.”
“So do you think
it’s a place where he practices black magic?”
Matthew thought
for a moment. “No, I doubt it. Well, perhaps he has managed to cast spells. I
have a feeling he is into the dark arts, perhaps even worshipping demons.”
“You mean like
Satanism?” Amy asked.
“Well, yes and
no. Not your cardboard cutout, commercialized Satanism.”
“I’m not even
sure what you mean by that,” Amy confessed.
“I mean he
probably doesn’t believe in the Christian devil. Most demons distort truth, and
they’re unlikely to reveal that they have some sort of master. That makes them
seem less powerful.”
“That makes
sense,” Amy agreed. “You must have had quite the experience when you studied in
Rome.”
“And then some,”
he admitted. “But nothing can really prepare you for coming face to face with
evil.” He scratched his head. “Come to think of it, even once you’ve been
through it, I doubt you’re ever desensitized to it.”
“That’s probably
part of the lure for Alan and people like him,” Amy assumed.
“Probably,”
Matthew agreed.
He liked Amy.
Although untrained in the Roman Ritual, the history of demonology, and various
practices across religions, she was highly intelligent and a fast learner. He
couldn’t help but wish he had someone from Rome here to help them. If in fact
they were about to encounter a supernatural presence, this would be the first
time he had to fight evil alone. He was only an expert on demons, not other spiritual
entities. That could prove to be more complicated – perhaps even fatal. He
didn’t want to give Amy the impression that they might be walking into a very
dangerous situation.
“It keeps
getting colder,” Amy observed. “I can see my breath. That can’t be natural, or
good.”
“I agree,”
Matthew said. “We can turn around if you want. Bring some reinforcements.” They
stopped walking as Amy turned toward him.
“I think we
should keep moving,” she said. “Even if there’s a demonic presence, I think we
can handle it.”
Matthew wasn’t
entirely sure that was true. He had let his curiosity get the best of him. They
were not prepared for spiritual warfare. They had no holy water, no crosses, no
Roman handbook.
Suddenly a
massive pressure pushed against his chest. He found it difficult to breathe.
Amy immediately noticed his struggle.
“What’s wrong,
Matthew?”
“Can’t . . .
breathe.” He had not felt such a strong presence working against him since his
last exorcism. When that happened there had been four other trained, experienced
priests in the room to help him. As quickly as the pressure appeared, it was
gone again. He gasped for air, which was harsh and cold.
“Are you okay?”
Amy wailed.
“Yeah, I think
so,” he said. He calmed himself, taking deep breaths and trying to sense his
surroundings for additional evils. “Something doesn’t want us down here.”
“I kind of
figured as much,” Amy agreed. “I think maybe we are out of our element.”
“I don’t think
it’s so much that we’re out of our element as much as we have not made the
necessary preparations to encounter evil.”
As they turned
around and headed back toward the library, they heard a muffled scream behind
them. Both Matthew and Amy froze.
“Did you hear
that?” Amy asked nervously.
“I did,” Matthew
said. He knew they had to try and help whoever was trapped, but for a moment he
argued with himself. Would it be better if they went back to the library and
look for the materials he needed? He could certainly bless water and at least
be somewhat better fortified with the right equipment. But he also knew that
time might be of the essence. Could he forgive himself if they came back and a
person had been killed? Then again, what if all of them died because they
hadn’t taken the necessary precautions?
“We can’t leave
someone down here,” she said when Matthew remained silent.
“It’s not like I
want to do that,” Matthew admitted. “But I also don’t want to get ourselves
killed, either.”
“I think that
might be overstating it a bit,” Amy said, but he noticed she immediately
disagreed with herself. “Okay, so maybe that isn’t an overstatement. But still,
how could we just leave them?”
“Amy, it’s
possible that the person screaming isn’t a person at all. It might be the demon
trying to lure us into its lair.”
“Oh, shit,” she
said, knowing he was right. Matthew didn’t want to be right, but it was a
distinct possibility that they could be walking into a trap.
As they walked
toward the large, round ring of darkness just beyond the flickering lamps,
Matthew continued to sense the presence of evil. Although not pressing up
against him, or trying to chase him away, he knew they were not alone. He just
couldn’t figure out what, or where, the presence was. When they reached the
opening to the dark room, he reached up and grabbed a lamp.
“You ready?” he
asked Amy.
“As ready as I’m
gonna be,” Amy laughed. “Let’s do it.”
Matthew led her
into the room, and immediately they smelled a foul aroma. Its pungent stench practically
smacked them in the face.
“Holy Jesus,”
Amy whispered. “It smells like something has been dead in here a long time.”
She paused. “It smells like death.”
“Listen,”
Matthew said curtly. “Do you hear that?” He was positive he heard the sound of
water, almost like a stream.
“Yeah, there
must be water somewhere, but it’s hard to see. It’s almost like the darkness is
fighting against the lamp,” Amy said.
She’s right,
he thought to
himself.
It’s almost as if the darkness is alive and has its hands around
the flame to keep it from revealing its presence.
All of a sudden he heard
the sound of chains rattling to his right, followed by the sound of someone
moaning. Amy grabbed Matthew’s sleeve. He lifted the lamp a bit higher and
began moving to his right.
“Jesus!” Amy
said as her grip on his shoulder tightened sharply. “Something just brushed by
me.”
“What did it
feel like?” Matthew asked.
“Almost like the
wind, but with force. Kind of like what it feels like when a car flies right by
you at sixty miles per hour.”
“Stay close,”
Matthew said. He could sort of make out a figure ahead of them, but wasn’t sure
if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Just then he heard the chains making
noise again.
“I think there’s
someone there,” Amy mumbled as they strained to look. They approached the
mysterious shape slowly, unsure what might happen once they reached it. The
closer they got, the more Matthew realized that someone was tied up with their
hands above their head.
God I wish I had
more light
,
Matthew thought to himself.
“I think that’s
a cop,” Matthew whispered.
“My God!” Amy
gasped. “It’s Michael Mullins!”
Matthew surveyed
Michael’s wounds, then lifted the lamp higher to see if he could unbind his
hands. “Shit, there’s a lock on them,” he grumbled. As Matthew tried to see if
he could free him, Michael tried to kick him.
“Michael,
Michael, it’s Father McMillan. And Pastor Amy is here, too. You’re going to be
okay,” he said, only half believing his own words.
“Am I dead?”
Michael asked in a raspy, tired voice.
“You’re very
much alive,” Matthew promised. “But we need to find a way to get you out of these
chains.”
“You’re not
Father Matthew!” Michael said in a raspy voice. “It’s not real. I’m going to
die.”