“What if it doesn’t work?” Raymond pulled into the asylum parking lot, and as we took a stall, leaned back over the seat to look at me.
“For the sake of everyone involved, let’s just hope that it does….”
“If this guy is really some kind of demon in the flesh--,” Raymond thought briefly, “What would stop him from knowing that we were coming?”
“Energies are not affected or limited due to physical boundaries or distance--,” I explained, “But as long as he’s using that body, even if he was aware of our intentions, he can’t escape.”
“Not unless he abandons his physical form.” Rich swallowed hard.
“I doubt that he would willingly relinquish his hold or position there. Or that he believes that he has much reason to fear us.” The thought bothered me, “All that we can really do is hope and pray that this works….”
Dr. Langford had greeted us at the main entrance, and introducing Raymond as a colleague, we soon made our way up to the third floor. He had seemed somewhat different, more apprehensive and considerably more frightened. But considering the circumstances, his imminent retirement and the nightmare that awaited us all, he could hardly be blamed.
When we finally arrived in the tower and before that steel door, Dr. Langford had hesitated while reaching for the metal window cover. The stench was overwhelming and from beneath the door, thick, foul and unmentionable things leaked out, the consistency and color of which resembled a hideously infected and festering wound.
I could see the shock and utter disgust in Raymond’s expression as he nervously peered between us. Dr. Langford swallowed hard, stuttering, as he quietly said, “There was an incident last night. When the orderly served the evening meal and attempted to deposit it under the door.” He motioned to where a small steel panel revealed a gate from where plates might easily be passed, “He was mauled quite severely and was rushed to hospital.”
“Are you saying that the patient managed to reach through that little slot--,” Raymond seemed utterly shocked, “Because if you asked me, that would be far too narrow for even a child’s arm to pass through. Much less do any real damage….”
“I never implied that at all. In fact, I still have absolutely no idea as to how those injuries were afflicted. ” Adjusting his glasses, Dr. Langford’s eyes were huge as he looked around at us all, “All that is certain is that the orderly sustained severe injuries—and that he is in critical condition, even as we speak.”
Rich had looked to me almost immediately as we now shared the same fear, and he asked, “That orderly, was he admitted at Royal Columbian Hospital?”
“No—they took him to Vancouver General for some reason.” Dr. Langford seemed confused, deeply troubled. He looked between us in a state of suspended disbelief while muttering, “The claw wounds were terrible but the bites about his breast and throat are considerably worse.”
Raymond had just looked down to that little slot in the door, and then back at us. We all knew that it would have been utterly impossible for a human being….
“I would ask that we make this visit as quick as possible--,” Dr. Langford was visibly shaken, reaching for the little window cover, as he said, “I have filed for an early resignation due to health reasons and am off duty for the remainder of the afternoon….”
“We completely understand.” I nodded. Opening the steel barrier and quickly stepping away, Dr. Langford refused to even observe the interaction.
Raymond had to literally force himself to move close enough to peer in through the blood-stained and fecal-smeared window. But what he saw now sent him reeling backwards! Crashing into Rich, they both stumbled backward and fell heavily to the floor!
Rushing to the glass, I stared inside, my heart leaping into my throat, as I witnessed the carnage and utter ruin of what had once been a human being! The mangled and bloody corpse hung suspended, hideously crucified to the wall! Its heart having been torn out and shoved into its mouth, the shattered ribs had been used to impale the hands and feet to the wall! The eyes had been ripped from their sockets, the arteries tied with hair and the horrifying mess hung about the neck! I choked back the heated bile as it surged into my throat and fell backward into Rich’s arms.
“Sweet Mother of God--,” I had gasped, motioning for Dr. Langford. He attended the window immediately, his face becoming a soundless scream as he ran from the corridor!
“Sweet Jesus--,” Raymond stood close, “There’s no way that he could have done that to himself…. What happened here?”
“The devil only knows--,” Removing his glasses, Rich had directed us back and away from that doorway into Hell, “It must have known that we were coming—and escaped….”
“So it’s gone now.” Raymond swallowed hard, appearing somewhat relieved.
“Not exactly--,” I looked to our friend, “I’m afraid that it might have gotten into someone else—and might be out there somewhere, free….”
“Dear God--,” Raymond gasped, “If what you told me is true, and the old man’s story was right? Then whoever or wherever that thing is now, once it gets loose it’ll go on a killing spree…..”
“Just as it did before, many years ago--,” I agreed, “We have to find it—and stop it from happening again.”
The corridor suddenly became a torrent of activity as orderlies flooded into the hall with Dr. Langford in swift pursuit. He had rushed to the door, and with trembling hands, fumbled with the keys while attempting to unlock it.
“Dr. Langford--,” I had touched his shoulder, halting him. He had looked back at me, and I asked, “The name of that orderly that was attacked—who was it?”
He had pondered briefly as though completely oblivious, and then throwing the door open, said, “I believe that it was Dennis—yes, that was it. He was a young lad, worked here almost ten years. Dennis Monroe.”
Drawing the hand-written note that Dennis had given me from a breast pocket, I held it before Raymond’s eyes. He stared in utter disbelief, “God have mercy….”
We hadn’t wasted any time in driving to Vancouver General hospital. With sirens wailing and lights flashing, Raymond had driven at speeds that we had never before experienced! Once there, still shaking from the journey and rushing to the Emergency room front desk, we had inquired about young Dennis.
“Are you friends or family?” The nurse had asked, her expression revealing obvious restraint. She was middle-aged and a rather attractive brunette with large brown eyes, but had all the appeal of a city Sergeant. I had looked to Rich, realizing that we were now confronted by insurmountable odds. But then, quick as a whip, Raymond had drawn out his badge, “Detective Raymond Emerson, Homicide. I would like to have a few words with your patient.”
She had literally jumped from her seat at his request! Retrieving the information and leading us to the elevators, she said, “He’s on the second floor and in recovery at the moment. He’s unconscious and heavily medicated, but you can speak to the Doctor on duty. Please let me know if I can be of any other service, detective.”
“Thank you kindly--,” He looked at the young woman’s name tag, and nodded, “I appreciate your assistance, Nurse Maureen.”
As she hurried off and we awaited the elevator, Rich had looked between us. Appearing rather pleased and nudging me with an elbow, he had whispered, “You were right about him.”
Raymond had glanced back in question and I had shrugged, “It was just a feeling, an impression that I had after our first meeting at that ravine. You reminded me of an old friend, Sergeant Steve Harris…. And I felt that you were the right man to help with this.”
“Winter of 1972, the police officer who was attacked on the road-side just outside of Penticton--,” He thought aloud, recalling the case, and said, “Died in that accidental diner fire in Hedley. You were friends?”
“He was a very dear friend—and there is far more to that story than you might imagine.” Removing the graduation ring from a breast pocket, all that remained of Steve to this world, I held bac
k the emotions, “He saved my life—a debt that I can never repay.”
Raymond had fallen silent, looking down at the ring. He spoke as though caught in some nightmare from which he could not awaken, “I read all the incident reports and case files. At first, I wasn’t sure what to make out of it all. But now, I think that I’m beginning to understand.”
“I’ll try to explain it to you—some time.” I noticed the buttons lighting up as we approached our floor, “The young man who we are about to visit is a friend. I believe that this wasn’t just some random attack, but that he was chosen for attempting to assist us in this case. No matter what you may see or hear, I will ask that neither of you speak to him, under any circumstances. Did you both do as I had requested?”
They revealed the large silver crosses provided by Rich, which now hung about their necks. Drawing a book of Psalms from his pocket, Rich nodded in preparation, “We’re as ready as we’re going to get…”
The elevator bell went off and as the doors opened behind us. I quietly said, “Alright gentlemen, let’s make a difference….”
We had moved silently. Departing the elevator on the second floor, we made our way down the hall while searching for the correct ward. It was an enormous hospital with many floors and rooms, but we soon discovered the proper nurses’ station. We had said nothing, our nerves rattled as we simply followed a nurse to where we were promptly introduced to the Doctor on duty.
“Dr. Edward Wong.” He shook hands with us all, and looking at a clip-board, said, “Yes, Dennis Monroe, he was admitted this afternoon. We did what we could for him.” The young Doctor explained, his features twisted with utter and obvious confusion, “His injuries were quite serious, and the resulting septic infection has caused considerable complications.”
In his mid to late thirties, he was of Asian descent and visibly worn from a long shift. He sipped at a mug of coffee. It was obvious that this particular case had deeply disturbed him. Looking between us, he said, “I have never seen an infection spread as rapidly as this. We have him on heavy antibiotics, he’s in a comatose state and we’re monitoring him very closely. But at this stage, I would not venture a guess as to his odds. He remains in critical condition and we are doing everything possible.”
“For the record--,” Raymond drew out a notepad, retrieving the pen, and said, “We would like to look in on your patient and document his injuries.”
“Are you all police?”
“These gentlemen are investigators—and yes, they are here on official business with me.”
As we followed Dr. Wong down the dimly lit corridor I felt something horrible. Not a physical impression, but something that I could only describe as a foreign presence. It was almost like a single, dark cloud, drifting across an otherwise clear horizon, which now threatened of an impending storm. And then, something all too familiar: As stopping before the door to his room, a sudden cold chill halted us in the hall. It was obvious that Dr. Wong had not been aware of this, but the rest of us were painfully reminded of a previous experience….
“He’s just in here--,” Dr. Wong led the way, wandering into the room. He drew the curtain away, revealing the young man. He no longer appeared the youthful and pleasant lad who we had known only days before, but something very different. His breath came in swift, rasping gasps, his body moving with involuntary spasms. There was a complete and utter change in his complexion, as paled and waxen, he was covered in hideous bruises and festering wounds. He appeared emaciated, unnaturally aged and like a ghastly puppet upon the strings of some unseen master.
“As you can see--,” Dr. Wong carefully drew back the blood-stained and soiled sheet covering the young man, “The infection is festering and spreading faster than the antibiotics can manage.”
Though the wounds had been stitched closed, they stood out, black filth and heavy green puss flowing from all openings. The odor was absolutely repulsive, as sticking to the sheets and running down, the oozing infection pooled beneath the lad’s trembling body. There was a moment when, captivated by the horror, I had thought to have seen the eyes open and stare over at me. But when I looked, he remained seemingly unchanged.
“Do you feel that the wounds are consistent to those inflicted by a human being?” Raymond scribbled notes into his book, his eyes never leaving the page as he waited for the answer. The reply came with certain hesitation as Dr. Wong looked down at the young man, and said with the greatest of skepticism, “I was not present during the surgery—and I am not at liberty to diagnose anything at this point.” He looked up at us, and with a glint of fear that bordered on fascination, said, “But whoever or whatever caused these wounds left traces heavy traces of Firmicutes, mainly Peptoniphilus and Clostridium.”
“That’s an anaerobic bacteria present in a decaying body--,” Raymond explained, casting a nervous glance in my direction, “In essence, what the Doctor is telling us—is that our friend here is suffering from a form of living decay.”
“As remarkable as it seems… This infection is being caused by bacteria that should not even be present in living tissue.” Dr. Wong agreed, “So, these wounds we were either inflicted by using something heavily decayed, perhaps human remains? Or, as impossible as it may sound, could be some strain of previously undiscovered or mutated bacterium that was present in the assailant’s system.”
“Or, something presumably long dead attacked our poor friend.” Rich’s words fell like an anvil.
The pen fell from Raymond’s hand as he just stared at the Doctor. None of us had known how to react to that, but we had suspected the cause, and seen the evidence….
“Would you mind terribly if we just had a moment alone here?” I asked.
There had been little hesitation on Dr. Wong’s part, as nodding and politely excusing himself from the room, he quietly closed the door.
“What now?” Rich appeared horrified, his eyes fixed upon Dennis, “We can’t just leave him like this, alone to die….”
“I have absolutely no intention of doing that--,” Motioning to Raymond, I quietly said, “Please stay back, divert your eyes and whatever happens, do not allow anyone to get through that door.”
He moved quickly and without question, physically barring the door as he looked back and nodded. I could see the fear in his expression, but felt comforted by the determination that burned in his eyes. Rich had already assumed my purpose, and moving to the head of the bed, placed a hand upon the young man’s brow. His tone low and firm as he began reciting the 23rd Psalm.
As I moved to the foot end, the body began twitching and violently convulsing! Drawing the holy seal from an inner pocket, I spoke in a calm but assertive manner, addressing the fiend, “Unholy wretch, heathen of a darker domain, in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord and savior, and in the name of the one loving God, I cast you out!”
Holding the talisman before me within both hands, I watched as those eyes snapped open, and what stared back at me was no longer human! Reddened and shedding tears of blood and unmentionable filth, it glared back at me. The mouth opening to reveal fouled teeth as it hissed, cursing, “You command nothing…. You are nothing….”
“I command nothing, but am the vessel by which the power of our faith flows--,” I moved closer, wielding the holy seal, “And by the power of Jesus Christ and our Lord God, I demand that you release this man and return to whatever foul pit you crawled from!”
At first, the hideous thing just laughed, its eyes huge and mocking, “Watch as the flesh rots from his bones, and his life and soul drains away…”
Moving swiftly, I came to the side of the bed, and as Rich threw his full weight down upon its shoulders, I leapt atop the ghoul! Pressing the seal down and against its breast with both hands, I said, “Flee from this place, demon, or be forever imprisoned within this rotting grave!”
Rich began reciting the Roman Catholic exorcism, making the symbol of the cross between passages, his voice loud, distinct as he called out, “In nómine Pátris, et Filii,
et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.”
The thing we had known as Dennis now furiously fought to escape, but we forced him down!
There was a sudden shouting and commotion at the door, as holding fast, Raymond threw himself against the door. Blocking all passage, struggling against the force, he cast his eyes away while nodding at me to continue.
The fiend grabbed at my wrists, its eyes burning with an unholy light as it now winced, recoiled in pain to the touch of the seal! It was trapped within Dennis and now understood, as growling, shrieking and hissing, it cursed at me. Struggling desperately to cast me aside, uttering blasphemies and damnation in a number of unknown and terrifying tongues, it howled! It tore at me and struggled to escape the blessed seal of Solomon, but I held fast, shouting in defiance, I called to it again, “In the name of all that is holy and loved among the Saints, Angels, our Lord Jesus Christ and almighty God, I demand that you depart at once!”
And with that I pulled back the talisman, the whole room exploding in shadows and smoke! Rich had never faltered, still struggling to hold the thing down. Raymond had remained true; though filled with terror, he still fought against those who now attempted to gain entrance.
The entire bed now shook with a violence that rocked the very floor, casting furniture and equipment down all around us! And still I held on for dear life, praying aloud as I held the talisman before its face!
“Forever in your shadow shall I walk, taking, murdering all that you cherish and love!” It bellowed with eyes of fire, froth and filth spewing from its jaws, “Curse you to a thousand damnations! By your withering heart and failing life, revenge shall be mine!”
Rich angrily forced the beast back down, calling out in prayer, “Let God arise and let His enemies be scattered: And let them that hate Him flee from before His Face! As smoke vanisheth, so let them vanish away: As wax melteth before the fire, so let the wicked perish at the presence of God!”
Sanctum Arcanum Page 23