The Dark Sacrifice: A Horror Novel

by Jay Bower

  ***

  AROUND LUNCHTIME, MEAGAN awoke to the tempting smell of bacon frying in the kitchen. She heard voices and walked in, her eyes blurry. The sun was high and filled the kitchen with its bright rays. Her mom stood over the stove, frying thick slices of bacon in a cast iron skillet. Noah stood next to her drinking a glass of water.

  “Mom!” he said when he noticed her standing there. “Guess what? After we eat, Grandpa is gonna take us to his cabin. Did you know he had one? I didn’t, but it’s gonna be cool!” She tried to focus, but the exhaustion crept into her brain and made it difficult.

  “Dear, why don’t you sit down at the table? I’ll get you some coffee,” her mother said. Her voice held its usual constant calm that could soothe any ailment.

  Several cups of coffee later, Meagan had a plate of bacon and eggs placed in front of her. She and Noah ate heartily, the food satisfying something deep within. June sat down with them while they ate and looked on with a touch of what Meagan thought was pride in her eyes.

  “Dear, what you are going to go through tonight will be heartbreaking and wonderful all at once.” June put a hand on Meagan’s arm. “I remember when Todd went to the sacrifice. He was so brave and so courageous. I can see that in Noah. Isn’t that right, Noah?” she said, turning to him.

  “Yep, sure is, Grandma. I am strong. I know it might hurt, but I won’t let it stop me from getting to paradise.” He gobbled down his eggs as though the impending events were nothing at all.

  “Mom, how did you stay so calm?” Meagan asked. “I mean, I know it’s the right thing, but I still feel…I don’t know…”

  June gave her a light pat on the arm.

  “It was knowing that Todd was prepared for what was to come, as Noah is. I just gave it all over to a higher power and accepted it. You can’t change the need and you can’t change the calling. It’s too dangerous.”

  Noah looked at his mom and grandma.

  “Mom, it’s okay. I know what will happen. It’s fine, Mom, really.” He stood and hugged her, then sat to finish his meal. Meagan felt a hole open in her heart. She tried to suppress it and smiled back at him.

  “Well, let’s get you cleaned up so we can go to the cabin,” June said. Meagan stared down at the bacon and eggs and set her fork down. She pushed her plate to the side and sat there, head in her hands. Noah ran off to shower and her mom cleaned up the dishes.

  The drive to the cabin took about fifteen minutes. Though it felt like they were a million miles away from civilization, they were just a few miles outside town. It sat on a small plot of historic land her parents owned, dating all the way back to the founders. She’d never taken Patrick there and couldn’t remember if she’d even told him about the place.

  They settled into the log cabin and relaxed for most of the afternoon. There was no running water, but it did have a hand pump in the kitchen that would give cold water. Noah liked to pump because he thought it was cool. Meagan saw it as a chore. There were only two main rooms, and each had a loft with two beds. Noah sat at the edge of one of the lofts, his feet dangling through the wood railings. His mom and grandma were playing cards at the table below, and his grandpa was out with Chief Wayne getting things ready for the big night.

  “Mom, can I ask you a question?” he asked from above.

  “What is it, Noah?” Meagan replied. She looked up at him with glossy eyes.

  “Last night, I saw someone in the circle. He was familiar. I thought he looked like the pictures of Nathaniel Browne all over town, but…” he hesitated, “but Mom, I think I’ve seen the man walking around town before. What does the Evil One look like, Mom? Was that him?”

  She put her cards on the table, as did her mom. They both stared at him. “I don’t know what he looks like, son. All I know is that he’s evil.”

  “He’s cursed this place, Noah,” June chimed in. “He brought a great curse which can only be satiated with the sacrifice. He decreed we must obey or he would bring a terror and evil on us unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Old Nathaniel Browne first encountered him here, and it was through his son that he saved his people. That is why what you will do tonight is so important. You are saving us, and in the process, you will be rewarded with a greater place in heaven. That came from the good Lord himself as a reward.”

  “Mom,” Meagan said with confusion on her face, “what does God have to do with this? Can’t he just cast out the Evil One and let us end this?”

  “How dare you question Him!” June snapped. “His ways are not our ways, and we are not to question him. If he wants to sacrifice someone so they can obtain a greater portion of paradise, then so be it!”

  Meagan fell silent. Her mom seemed a bit frazzled, something Meagan was not used to seeing in the otherwise steady-as-a-rock woman.

  “But, Mom,” Noah said again, “I think I’ve seen that man before. I’d bet on it.”

  “It’s probably your mind playing tricks on you, Noah,” June said. “Nathaniel’s picture is all over town, so maybe you’re just confused.”

  Noah thought a moment before speaking again. “No, Grandma, I’m pretty sure I saw him somewhere out there.”

  “Well, don’t you worry, Noah. I’m sure it was just a coincidence. The man you saw last night is not a man at all, but an evil being. He called you and we must obey or face the terrible consequences.”

  Noah shuddered as he thought about how close he was to touching evil the previous night. For the first time, he realized he could’ve reached out and laid a hand on it. Or it could have reached out and laid a hand on him.

  The rest of the afternoon went by in silence as the weight of the situation bared down on them. They ate supper and Al finally came back. He opened the wooden door to the cabin, and with a grand gesture, he said, “It is time.”

  Silently, they gathered their things and followed him out the door to the waiting car.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  PATRICK SLOWLY REGAINED consciousness. He could feel slithering and squirming on his face. He opened his eyes to see small, wiggling white worms. He swiped at them. He looked at his hand to see one of the squirming things clinging to it.

  “Maggots!” he said out loud. He brushed it off his hand and felt a sickening feeling build within him. He willed it away with the little strength he had left. The grubs fell off him when he jumped up. He felt a squirming feeling on his head and placed his hand to his temple. Countless little bodies moved around and he dug deeply, creating a fresh wave of pain across his head as he hit the exposed nerves in the deep gash left by the baton. He cleared away a handful of the disgusting flesh-eating maggots and tossed them on the ground. The faint light of the approaching dawn allowed him to see the writhing little creatures. They streamed in a long line from his body to the lump that was Virgil. All that was left were a few bits of bone and scraps of his clothes and several thousand maggots, pulsating as they devoured the remains. He scraped furiously at his head and face. He screamed in pain as he cleared out his wounds. He didn’t care how much it hurt; he wanted those things off him.

  He stumbled toward his car. Bending down to the side mirror, he inspected his face for more maggots, hoping there were no more. He could feel the crawling sensation still on his flesh, but he didn’t see any.

  His body ached all over. His head felt like it had been pounded by a hammer. Blood ran down his face from the freshly opened wound on his head. Thoughts were incoherent. Exhaustion threatened to take him again, but he fought it hard. His mind couldn’t put the pieces together. But Meagan and Noah. Their faces flashed in front of him, taunting him, pleading with him, looking for him. He needed to carry on for them.

  Checking the car, he realized the keys were nowhere to be found. He wondered if he could hot-wire it, but the steps wouldn’t surface in his foggy mind. He looked around and hung his head. It pounded fiercely. With no other option, he walked.

  He got about a hundred yards from the car when he heard what sounded like animals running through the gra
ss. With the morning sky, he saw several black beasts the size of small horses in the distance. He watched as they approached him, closing in. They growled as they stepped closer, their yellow, piercing eyes trained on him. Menacing fangs and massive claws surrounded him. They trapped him within their circle. He counted five of the giant beasts. He reached for his gun, but it wasn’t there. “Shit!” he said. Panic threatened to take hold as they snarled and inched their way closer to him. They snapped their jaws, as though they enjoyed his fear. He had nowhere to run and saw no way out. He turned around to face one coming closer, and his hand brushed something hard in his belt. Remembering the dagger he’d taken off Virgil’s body, he pulled it out, his last hope for survival. The beasts snarled loudly when he flashed the bone-handled blade. To Patrick’s surprise, they moved back, though not enough for him to escape.

  One of the beasts crashed into him from behind, knocking him over. It snarled and growled and snapped at him. He rolled to the side and narrowly avoided its huge jaws. It swiped at him, striking his arm. He dismissed the pain and swung the dagger. He missed and got caught by one of the great beast’s claws. It pushed down on his left shoulder, pinning him to the ground. With his free hand, he thrust the dagger at its leg and stabbed it, the blade finding solid muscle and bone. It howled a hideous sound and Patrick pulled back and struck again, this time landing deep in its chest. It tried to snap his arm in two with its massive mouth, but he pulled back too fast and it caught air instead. He rammed the dagger home again, each strike stunning the giant beast. He twisted the blade into its throat. Hot, rancid blood gushed down onto Patrick. The beast snarled, but had no strength left. It tried to growl and choked on its own blood and saliva. Patrick thrust the dagger one last time and sliced furiously as more blood gushed out. Finally, the beast closed its eyes and fell sideways, dead.

  He expected the other beasts to swarm him, but they held back. He looked down at the dagger and back to the growling things. He jumped up, full of confidence. “Come on! All of you! I’ll gut you all! I’m not afraid of you! None of you will keep me from my son, none of you!” He stood with arms out to defend himself, waiting for the eventual attack. The beasts prowled around him, snapping and snarling. They paced like lions, waiting to catch him off guard. He thrust the dagger toward one of them and it jumped back, almost yelping. Patrick cautiously moved forward, the beasts pacing with him. “Are you afraid of this little blade, you stupid beasts? Come on, come get me!” They refused his invitation, stalking him.

  There was a call and he watched as the beasts’ ears perked up and they turned to the east, quietly watching for the unseen source of their attention. They stood like statues, now ignoring him. He heard another loud whistle and the animals faded into a black mist and winked out of existence. Patrick found himself alone in the field with only the one dead creature near him. Unlike the others, it didn’t fade away into nothing, but lay on the ground in the pool of its dark, almost black blood. Patrick watched in wonder as the green grass wilted and turned to ash, revealing scorched earth behind. He stepped away. He noticed the dagger and was puzzled as the beast’s blood evaporated before his eyes. He swiped at his neck and pulled his hand back. Again, the beast’s blood had disappeared.

  Patrick stumbled, wanting to be far away from there. It took him quite some time to find a road and get his bearings back. He had to get back to town, to find help, or find someone who knew something about his family. The longer someone went missing, the more likely they’d never be found, and if they were, they probably wouldn’t be alive. He ached inside, not only from the physical pain, but also from the emotional pain he suppressed to make it this far.

  A car approached in the distance through the early morning fog. He chanced it and waved his arms.

  “Stop, please! I need help! Stop!” he shouted. He flailed his arms in the air, jumping up and down. His body screamed at him through so much pain, but he had a mission. The car slowed to a stop next to him. The window rolled down and a familiar voice called out.

  “Hey there, Patrick, are you all right?” It was Leann, the waitress from the cafe. He almost burst into tears upon seeing her face.

  “I need to get home,” he said. She leaned over and opened the door and he slid in.

  “You look awful, Patrick. Maybe you should go to the hospital. What happened?”

  He closed his eyes as the car moved forward.

  “I just need to get home, please. It’s been a long night.”

  She nodded and patted him gently on the leg. He gave her the directions. On the drive, he wondered if she knew about the sacrifice. Did everyone know but him?

  When she pulled into the drive, she offered to help him inside and tend to his wounds, but he wouldn’t have it. Reluctantly, she left only after he agreed to let her stop by after her shift to check on him.

  The house was empty. He searched, knowing Meagan and Noah were not there. Weary and battered, he dropped into his recliner, the pulsing in his head rhythmic and songlike. There was no time for rest. He stood, and the room spun.

  The sound of someone beating on his front door woke Patrick from a deep sleep. The sun no longer shined brightly outside. He looked up from where he lay on the floor and recognized his living room. The beating continued at the front door.

  “Patrick? Are you in there? It’s me, Leann. Patrick?” The door creaked as she turned the handle and opened it, stepping inside.

  “I’m fine,” he protested. He meant it. The dull throbbing in his head and the aches were still there, but he felt a little better after exhaustion claimed his day. His thoughts immediately turned to his family. “Noah…Meagan,” he said to Leann. She tilted her head.

  “Your family? They should be at the grounds.”

  He scrambled to his knees. “Where are they?”

  “You aren’t in any shape to drive. I’ll take you. They didn’t tell you where the ceremony was?” She spoke as though it were common knowledge. It scared him that everyone knew where his family was, except for him.

  “Go put on something a little nicer, Patrick. It wouldn’t do for the father of the Sacrifice to be seen at the ceremony dressed like that.”

  A gut-wrenching scream threatened to release. How could she be so flippant about his son? Rage boiled below the surface. He needed her to take him to his family and lashing out wouldn’t help. From her demeanor, he thought it meant they were still okay…for now.

  “Yeah, it wouldn’t be right,” he said in a weak voice, “let me get cleaned up.”

  She sat on the couch and he went to change, stopping by the bathroom to clean his wound. It hurt when he touched it, but he gritted his teeth and continued. A maggot squirmed in the wound on his head, curling and crawling. He pulled it out and crushed it in his fingers. He finished and changed his clothes, strapping a gun to his leg and another over his shoulder, throwing on a jacket to conceal the weapon. Looking at the dagger on the bed, he tucked it in his waist and made his way to the living room, already feeling like he’d lost too much time.

  Leann sat mindlessly playing with her phone. “Oh, are you ready?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I think so,” he replied. His throat ached. He was desperate for a drink.

  She stood.

  “Hey, why didn’t Meagan tell you where to go? I figured she’d have let you know by now. I mean, she is your wife and all. Shouldn’t she be here, too?”

  Coherent thought didn’t come easy, and Leann caught him off guard. Hesitating, he finally answered.

  “She did, but you see this cut here?” he said pointing to his head. “I fell while working at her parents’ house. I knocked myself out,” he laughed, “and well, when I came to, they were gone. All the cars were gone, and no one answered their phones. Kinda frustrating really. I decided to…” he paused, then continued, “walk home and hope they were here. I forgot where she said it was. Guess my head is still cloudy. Luckily for me, you came along, and here we are.”

  She smiled warmly. “Don’t worry about a t
hing, hon. I’ll get you there in time. I’d be honored to drive the father of the Sacrifice to the ceremony.”

  He was relieved his thin ruse had worked. Now all he had to do was be patient as she took him there. His family depended on it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  LEANN PULLED HER SMALL car up to a wide field where thirty cars were parked. It seemed like the entire town showed to see the death of his son. He fumed inside but fought to keep his cool until the time came for him to act. And act, he would. None of these people would witness his son’s sacrifice this night. If he could take Meagan with him he would, but his priority was Noah. If she would choose this horrific life over what they had created, then so be it. He had to get Noah first, and everything else would come after. He planned his move as Leann parked the car at the end of a row.

  “Thanks, Leann. I’ll go find Meagan. I appreciate the help.”

  She smiled. “No, thank you, Patrick, for being the father of a wonderful boy. You’ve done well with him.” She walked toward a blazing fire in the middle of a copse of trees at the end of the field. The sun had gone down and the early evening had not yet given way to the dark of night. He focused on the flames in the distance.

  Patrick watched as Leann followed a well-worn path that wove through the trees. She reached the gathered people sitting on hay bales and standing in groups talking. There were older people and kids; all sorts of people from the town. She waved to some and walked around the hay bales until she found an open seat near Sara. She hugged Sara and Eric and sat down. The atmosphere was joyous and friendly.

  It made Patrick’s blood boil.

  Patrick walked slowly among the cars. He found Benny’s squad car and Meagan’s car. They were so close. He wanted to scream for them, but he moved with caution. A few more cars pulled in. It didn’t sound like the ceremony had started, and he wasn’t sure how much time he had left. He turned his attention to the trees and the people streaming toward the bright bonfire.