Demonologist (33 page)

There he lay, waiting for Satan’s blow to silence him forever.

But the beetles hit him first, hundreds of tiny feet scattering all over his body.

He screamed and screamed until he fell away into darkness.

The three of them lugged Bev through the badly lit halls, his body feverishly hot, as though he’d been sitting too close to a fire. Jewels of sweat burst across his skin. His eyelids were once again wide open, revealing upturned whites and blood-saturated veins. His mouth hung open like a drawer, pools of saliva pouring out. “It’s burning, it’s burning me,” he moaned, his body twisting in their grasp.

“Hold tight,” Thornton said. “We’re almost there.”

As Thornton had speculated, they passed no one in the halls, thankfully, and in a few minutes, were in his room.

They carried Bev to the bed and placed him down. He wriggled and twitched, skin flushed red and growing hotter. His head arched back, exposing an Adam’s apple that danced like a pogo stick beneath his skin. Dark red welts had formed where the plastic ties chafed against his skin. His eyes were shut again.

Pulling his gaze away from Bev, Danto scanned the distressing space: the moldering rug; the stained mattress sitting crookedly atop the rusted frame; the mildew coated tiles in the decrepit bathroom. A rancid stench rode the air: something had been left out for a long time.

Here the distant chanting in the walls was louder, their close proximity to the cathedral now evident. Thornton closed the door then gazed forlornly at Danto and Rebecca, his dark face drawn in impending panic. He rubbed his chin. In this moment of inactivity, Rebecca staggered away into the bathroom and vomited again, the choking sounds befitting the miserable surroundings. Danto felt bloated and tender, but fought back his urge to join her.

“What now?” Danto asked, feeling strangely inept despite his knowledge of the situation.
Must be the house
, he thought.
It’s distracting me
. Rebecca emerged from the bathroom, pale-faced and haggard. She positioned herself on a chair in the corner of the room and buried her face into her hands.

“We need to distance ourselves from
Mathers
,” Thornton replied, knotting his fingers together nervously. He walked to the nightstand, removed a bottle of whiskey from the space below and single-handedly manipulated the top off. He took a drink. Then, offered the bottle to Danto. He refused. “Satan can emerge at anytime to take on the Legion. We must not be in his presence when this occurs. And as long as he is here, away from the other demons, we have a fighting chance.” Thornton rifled through a pile of clothing on the floor, located three black knit robes. He handed one to Danto, and one to Rebecca. “Put these on.”

Rebecca stood up shakily, holding the robe, sobbing.

“Get
ahold
of yourself!” Danto yelled nervously. She began to cry louder, uncontrollably, like a scolded child. The priest quickly donned his robe over his clothing, then grabbed the robe from her and held it up for her to slip into. She hesitated, doubtful eyes darting back and forth between the two men. Thornton approached her and grasped her hands roughly. “If you want to live, do what we say.”

She shook her head pleadingly. “Please, I just want to leave here. I don’t belong here.” Her voice was weak and puny, like a child’s.

Thornton stepped aside, hand waving towards the door. “
If
you make it out the front door, you will end up like that man we saw on the front lawn.”

She peered down at their locked hands, looking sick and terrified, as though she’d just witnessed her own murder and had lived to tell about it. “I…I
can’t do this
.” Tears of frustration exploded from her eyes. She twisted her neck back and forth, in a slow and methodical fashion, as if trying to work out some kinks, then looked back at Danto. He nodded reassuringly, feeling like a liar. She pulled back her gaze and released her hands from Thornton’s grasp, then
shiftlessly
shrugged into the robe, sobbing the entire time.

“Satan is listening,” Thornton said, peering at Bev’s twitching form. “He will emerge at a time that is most advantageous to him.”

“What of Allieb?” Danto asked.

“The demonologist is wholly consumed with the drawing. Belial is guiding him, and will insure success in possessing the remaining demons. Both Allieb and Belial are confident that Satan will show little resistance and follow his army.”

 
Thornton paced to the nightstand and opened the drawer. He retrieved a vial of holy water and a large hook key, both of which he pocketed, and then the crucifix that had recently turned from silver to rust. He held it tightly in his fingers, kissed it, then asked Father Danto to bless it. The priest took hold of the small rusted charm, pressed it against his chest and recited a silent prayer. Afterwards, he kissed the rough metal, and handed it back to Thornton.

Holding the cross out like an offering, Thornton sat on the edge of the bed, alongside Bev. “This cross has protected me for twenty years. May it shed its miracle upon you, my brave brother.” He kissed the cross one last time and lodged it into Bev’s pocket back pocket.

At once Bev’s body began to tremble. An icy breeze swept the room, causing gooseflesh to ripple across his exposed skin. A pleasant aroma rose up, that of perfume; it was coming from Bev.

“It’s all your fault I’m dead, dear.”

A woman’s voice, surfacing from Bev’s throat. Soft-spoken. Gentle.

“You had to adopt the boy, didn’t you?”

Thornton’s mouth fell open. “My…God…”

It was the voice of his wife, twenty years dead at the hand of the young Allieb!

Bev’s head rolled toward the minister, eyes open and filled with sadness, the face contorting into something nearly feminine. “You promised you would take care of me, protect me. But you didn’t. You let the boy kill me. And now I’m in here, in Hell with the rest of them.”

Thornton buried his face in his hands. “No, no…”

“I’m
fellating
a wolf, and it tastes wonderful, would you like to try it?” Tendrils of green mist seeped from his mouth.

“
No!
” he screamed, lurching away.

Danto came to his side. “Heed your own advice, James. Clear your mind of the evil.”

Thornton nodded. Shaken. He wiped his tears with his hand, then turned and looked back at Bev, who was again unconscious, rocking gently from side to side.

Rebecca’s cries had stopped altogether. She emerged from the corner of the room, out of the shadows, mumbling something unintelligible. Her eyes were lost behind a glossy haze. Danto, concerned more with her abrupt silence than with her breakdown, paced over to her. Gently, he grabbed the knit hood of her robe and pulled it up over her head.

“Come…we must go now.”

She nodded, suddenly composed. She looked at Danto. He shuddered. Something…there in her eyes, behind the glossy haze; an intelligence, deep in the blue that he hadn’t noticed before. It unnerved him.

“I will lead you both to the cathedral,” Thornton said. “Then, I must leave you both for a bit of time. Do nothing, and say nothing, and you will not be noticed. Understand?”

Danto and Rebecca nodded in unison. Thornton opened the door and slipped free of the room, Rebecca following close behind.

Gripping the doorknob, Danto turned and looked at Bev one last time. The sole light in the room brightened, flickered once, then went out, bringing the room into darkness.

From amidst the gloom, Satan’s green eyes stared back at him.

He closed the door.

~ * ~

Bev opened his eyes. The acids burst like mammoth blisters against his skin. The pain was excruciating, and he grunted insufferably, his voice torn to shreds from the harsh vapors assaulting his throat. He pressed his hands into the organic floor and
leaned
up. Looked around. Saw nothing but the dark bloody vista of his bowels; an infinite landscape of colon, kidneys, liver, and pancreas: all of his organs glistening like mountains in the distance, still functioning properly despite the supernatural stress placed upon them. He could hear the intemperate winds of his lungs howling down from the blackened heavens, carrying to him the agonized voices of the damned moaning from their eternal tortures. He looked around at his immediate surroundings, everything around him blurring into dull blotches of gray and pink. For the first time since coming to Hell, he was alone. He fell to his knees, then lay back down in the acids. There were no more games to be played. Satan had finally assumed absolute control of his mind and body. He breathed in the thick, putrid air, and prepared himself for the agony about to be thrust upon him in the war of the demons
.

Danto, Thornton, and Rebecca treaded wearily through the empty halls of
In Domo
, their footsteps heavy, echoing hollowly. The chanting grew louder with every footstep forward—Danto could feel the choking rhythm of it in the floor.

“There has been a recent surge in the population here at
In Domo
.” A haunted expression came into Thornton’s eyes. “I can only assume that Allieb needs these bodies as
sacrifants
for the demons, and as well, to act as his witnesses to the drawing. There’s strength in numbers, and the congregation he’s assembled will act faithfully to his needs.” The trio turned a sharp corner and continued down a
doorless
hallway lit dimly by a queue of exposed light bulbs. ”You are going to see some very unpleasant things; the most important thing is that you do not react to the unfolding events. Just follow along with the ceremony, quietly and obediently, do not draw attention to yourself, and speak to no one. Should you create any kind of disturbance, Allieb will assume you have broken the trance, and will consider you a threat.”

“Trance?” Danto asked.

Thornton stopped walking, turned and faced the others. His shirt was darkened by sweat; his face, contorted with pain. A stifling quietness filled the hall. He whispered, “During the ceremony, you
will
feel moments of mental recklessness. Your mind will play tricks on you, leading you to believe that there is no other means of thought other than the evils psychologically imparted upon you. You
must
ignore these feelings—they won’t be any different than the impressions you felt upon arriving here. Allieb has diverted much of his energy into the drawing, and will continue to do so, thereby diluting his mental hold on everyone, and making these sensations easily combatable. Some of those in the congregation will undoubtedly find the strength to sever their psychological bond with him; I can only imagine the fear they’ll feel upon ‘waking up’ in the middle of hell.” He rocked his gaze back and forth between Danto and Rebecca. “Be strong. It is all I can ask. You don’t want to fall victim to
Allieb’s
fury.”

Danto nodded, then peered at Rebecca, who remained oddly silent, gazing past Thornton toward the end of dark wall. Her blue eyes glimmered in the shadows, despite having no source from which to derive their glow.

“Rebecca?” Danto placed a hand upon her arm. “Are you okay?”

She faced him. Gone was the fear and pain and tears from her features, now replaced with a prepared, almost smug grin on her face. “I am.”

She looks different
, Danto thought.
Something isn’t right with her. Has she fallen victim to the psychological grasp of evil?

The chanting grew louder. Thornton rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling, contemplating the all-encompassing mantra. Danto watched him conscientiously as beads of sweat trickled down the sides of his angular face. “The Legion is near. Satan, help us.”

The insanity of his statement hit Danto like a speeding truck, and a surge of anxiety riddled his body. He took a series of deep breaths in attempt to calm the sudden, naked loathing he had for the seemingly inescapable state of affairs. He followed Thornton’s moving shadow into an adjacent hallway where a charge of red light splayed across their footsteps, emerging from a large columned archway not ten feet away. Here, with no barrier to mute the sound, the chanting voices were amplified.