The Raven Mocker (37 page)

Dear Jesus, don’t make me see this—PLEASE don’t make me watch!! ANYTHING BUT THIS!!!

Miriam screamed. She shrieked until she began to pass out. It wasn’t enough to keep all of the images out of her awareness, but somehow lessened the immediate blow to her fraying mind. She heard David call frantically to her, and even Evelyn called her name as well. Nothing from Hanna yet, though if what she went through in her few days of captivity was anything like this, then Miriam understood the reasons for her apparent emotional and mental collapse.

The assault continued…but now on to her body.

Her breasts began to feel warm, and her nipples rose to where they pressed against her brassiere. A tingling sensation ran along both sides of her neck to her shoulders, growing more and more intense….

He’s kissing me…soft, moist touches along my neck…moving down… oh, shit!!

Other tingling sensations began along the balls of her feet, moving slowly up her legs. To her horror, both sensations moved in between her legs and her nether area. Pleasure beyond anything she’d ever known, and David was a skilled lover who seldom failed to bring her to orgasm, wave upon wave of ecstasy radiated upward from her vulva. She couldn’t stifle the moans that threatened to become joyful cries—the complete opposite of what she felt.

I
fucking hate you, you goddamned bastard!!

Suddenly, the terrible rapture ceased. Gasping for breath, Miriam opened her eyes. Teutates and his assistants stood around her still, but she no longer drew their attention.

“
Hanigi Agowadvdi!”
Go see!

The two warriors’ grinning expressions were solemn, though hard to tell for certain with mainly hollow eye sockets to judge by. In the next instant they flew out of the room, moving back through the darkened doorway and leaving shadowed tendrils that dissolved in the air.

Teutates grunted. For a moment his countenance bore suspicion. But then he brought his gaze back to her, his hellish smile soon returning.

Time for a little more fun.

Chapter Thirty-six

Dropped into darkness, John landed hard on his butt. More of a chute than a tunnel, he slid for roughly fifty feet before the drop. Thinking he might need it, he packed a small flashlight within the breast pocket of his snowsuit. After dusting himself off, he brought it out and turned it on. It revealed the inside of a narrow corridor. The ceiling barely tall enough for him to stand, serpentine drawings covered it for as far as his eyes could see.

If truly some sort of passageway, a wall behind him indicated the only way to go was forward. He moved cautiously, on the lookout for the two deputies and the phantoms that abducted them. After traveling almost a hundred feet through the winding tunnel, he heard the sound of water...rushing water, like a river.

A waterfall? Here in this ravine?? Impossible!

Difficult to picture, the stream that at one time ran through the ravine had dried up decades earlier. Yet, as he moved forward, the sound of rushing water grew stronger. And then he saw it.

A gray marble statue, several stories high, its carved features remarkable in their realism, the subject a mix between man and reptile. A serpent’s body merged with the torso of a man…or something similar to mankind.

He walked up to it, marveling that something like this would be here, inside a weird looking building inside the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The details and style of the artisanship seemed much more akin to something he would expect to see in New York or some other big city—or in the standing ancient ruins of Europe or the Middle East.

Definitely a deity, its gaze angry as it surveyed the opening to the corridor before it. Its arms and elongated hands spread out to embrace, almost welcoming if not for the sharp talons at the end of each finger. That, and long predatory teeth bared menacingly at whoever prepared to leave the safety of the corridor.

Teutates?
It had to be.

Behind the statue a waterfall filled a large basin. As John peered out from the corridor, what awaited him further amazed his weary mind. Though his flashlight’s beam could only reach so far, the basin fed two streams that flowed through an immense gorge, an underground chasm unlike any he’d ever witnessed. Thick marble columns rose high into the air, and another, much larger corridor separated the two streams. The column closest to him bore the image of a glistening serpent in a brilliant array of color. The craftsmanship again surprised him—not to mention the invaluable content if the images were created using precious gemstones as it appeared.

Above the waterfall’s din, he heard faint screams floating toward him. Not taking any chances, he ducked down to avoid detection.
Is it a woman or a man screaming?
Where the screams came from was difficult to tell. The only way to explore further meant traveling along a narrow wooden walkway that crossed the chasm in front of the statue. It looked sturdy enough to support a young boy or girl, but in no way a man John’s size.

“
Asdawadvsdi Ayv!”
Follow me!

Huh??

The voice came as a whisper from behind him. John whirled to look around, no one there. But he recognized the voice, since the same one addressed him in his jail cell three nights ago.

“
Ududu?”

It felt strange uttering the question this time, and he prayed it really was his grandfather, Two Eagles Cry, with him now.

“
Howaayelvdi Ayv
Adatlisvi Awi inage ehi
!”
Trust me, Running Deer!

The urgency in the voice reminded him of how his grandfather sounded when exasperated with him as a kid, but still…one couldn’t be too careful with a clever demon lurking nearby.

The bridge creaked, and when it did, the image of a wolf appeared before him, its amber eyes aglow under the beam of his flashlight. The wolf whined, pawing the wooden slats of the bridge as if trying to get him to come aboard. But it took a push on John’s back, strong enough to make him stumble, to get him moving. The wolf wagged its tail and barked at him, eluding John’s attempt to touch it. Ignoring the bridge’s incessant creaks and groans from carrying someone his size, he focused on the wolf instead, greatly relieved when he finally made it across. Once he stepped off it, two of the wooden slats broke off, tumbling down to the murky bottom.

Ah, hell, we’ll have to find another way out….

The wolf whined again, drawing his attention to a steep marble staircase that would take him to the corridor. Leading the way once again, the wolf checked several times to make sure he followed.

He couldn’t believe the enormous size of the gorge’s main room—in itself many times larger than the structure’s outer size indicated.
Is this really the same place, or some other world?
The illumination steadily improving, the room resembled an immense cathedral or temple. More and more columns, each decorated with the same serpent images.

The screams had grown silent, but resumed once he reached the corridor...getting louder and more plaintive than before.

Sounds like a man to me… better hurry!

He now had a better idea where the screams originated from. Another staircase loomed in the distance, and at the top sat an open doorway. A bluish glow emanated from the room, getting brighter as he approached.

That’s got to be the right place! I’m coming Evelyn, Hanna!! Hold on, everyone!!!

The wolf began to trot faster and John stepped up his pace. A loud roar suddenly filled the air behind him, followed by powerful wings flapping. He couldn’t see the thing clearly, its shadow hovering near the top of the columns high above. But it moved very fast. It rose up toward the doorway where the blue light emanated from, blotting it out…for a moment.

It’s coming back… for me?

Even the wolf whined, cowering low to the corridor’s tiled floor before running over to the nearest column’s base. John followed after it, though not anywhere near as quick. He stumbled and fell. The wolf’s barks grew urgent for him to scramble to safety. That opportunity was lost by the time he picked himself up again. A colossal dragon descended, its hungry mouth opened wide, poised to devour him.

Chapter Thirty-seven

The pain in his wrists severe, David was almost free.
Making progress at last!

He kept a worried eye on what took place at the altar. Until a few moments ago, he knew for certain that the love of his life, his dear Miriam, would perish. At least she hadn’t been hurt physically…pretty sure, anyway. But with that much blood on her, how could one know for sure?

She’s breathing…all curled up like Hanna. The other assholes held her, they made her cry. Goddamn them ALL!!!

Teutates seemed preoccupied with something other than Miriam. He held his scepter out before him…lost in admiration? The golden handle glistened, covered with jewels similar to the ones his aunt brought last week with her from Chattanooga. One stone missing, the barren circular space on the handle looked vaguely familiar.

Quit worrying about shit like that and get these suckers off, man! Don’t plan on him staying in that stupor for long!!

That observation proved prophetic, as a moment later the two fiends returned, carrying a local sheriff’s deputy between them. The man wasn’t much older than David, in his late-thirties with similar blond hair, and putting up a desperate fight. He clawed to free himself, screaming between whimpers. It drew a terrified look from Evelyn, and even Hanna looked up. Miriam remained in her fetal position on the altar’s table, trembling.

Teutates smiled and motioned for his assistants to bring the man to him. He pushed Miriam off of the altar, her prone body landing with a thud on the floor. But her life had been spared…for now.

David looked up and saw the monster eyeing him, amused.

“
David Hobbs… Perhaps you will enjoy how we deal with infidels… those who don’t believe ‘I AM’!” he announced, his tone deep and graveled with a touch of mirth.

David looked away. Afraid to look at anyone, loath to witness what happened next, he focused on the floor around his knees. All the while, he worked his wrists.

Hurts like a mother…but the left one is almost through…and the other isn’t far behind.

As soon as the phantoms finished dragging their captive to the altar, Teutates brought his scepter up to the man’s face. For a moment, he studied him while drawing the ultra-sharp ivory tip across his forehead and down along each cheek. David peeked in time to see several rivers of blood form, the deputy whimpering louder while his knees buckled under him.

Teutates brought one of his unfurled fingernails underneath the man’s chin, allowing the blood to collect inside it. When full, he brought it to his mouth and drank.

“
This is the faint remembrance of you, since very shortly your life force and essence will be gone from this world forever,” he told the man. “But as you die, know that you’ve provided great pleasure and delight this day, and a feast of flesh for my servants.”

“
Please, I beg you—don’t do it…I’ll do anything—ANYTHING YOU ASK!!”
the deputy cried out between heartrending sobs, a wet spot in his crotch spreading quickly.
“Don’t h-hurt me-e-e! Have mercy, PL-L-E-E-E-A-S-S-S-E-E!!!”

“
I understand,” said Teutates, his tone soothing. “Perhaps there is a way to work this out…a way that suits you better.”

He motioned for the others to release him, and when they complied with Teutates’ wish, he pulled him close to his bosom, walking around the altar with his arm around his shoulders.

Up until then, the deputy would’ve only seen the older, dusty remains along the wall and the fresh blood dripping down the sides of the altar. But the look on his face confirmed for David that he hadn’t seen the row of severed heads until now.

He shrieked and tried to escape, managing one step to freedom before Teutates subdued him. Flinging him like a rag doll over his shoulder, the deputy landed harder than Dr. Kirkland, flat on his back upon the altar, splashing blood from prior victims onto his mortified audience. Teutates held him fast and whispered something undecipherable to the warriors, who had fallen to their knees in deference when he took the deputy from their grasp.

The foul guardians smiled and stood up. Savage in their attack, one pulled the man’s head back to scalp him while the other ripped open his parka and sweater. David tried to ignore his pitiful cries, glancing at Evelyn who wept near Hanna, and his beloved Miriam, who brought her hands up to shield her ears, her eyes tightly shut. But nothing could prepare them for what came next.

Once the deputy’s abdomen and chest lay bare, the warriors tore a hole in his belly. Each grabbed a portion of his intestines and began to slowly devour them. Blood and other tissue flowed freely as the deputy writhed in unspeakable agony, and whose ear-splitting screams poured out hoarsely from his open throat.