Sanctum Arcanum

by Alexander Kautz

  “Hold on!” He bellowed as he forced the vehicle forward again. Turning it, he brought the truck about as we now faced the oncoming thing. With the engine roaring, he shouted at the top of his lungs, “Die, damn you—just die!”

  Terrified, I had sunk into the seat as Tim vanished somewhere into the back. The sudden impact of the ten ton winch and steel bumper hammering the undead thing, it sailed backward as we continued crushing it beneath our immense weight and massive wheels! Raymond had reversed and backed over it again and again! Continuing in this fashion until nothing remained but an unrecognizable and putrid, dark and gory mass!

  But even as we had stared in wide-eyed horror and awe, the grisly remains began to expand and manifest, the pieces gathering and growing as it began reforming and taking on its previous shape!

  “No—no you don’t!” Raymond had leapt from the truck, and retrieving the fuel can from the back, dashed madly toward the swiftly rejuvenating thing! We had moved from the vehicle with weapons loaded, and hurriedly gone after our friend. He had quickly poured gas onto the horror as it rolled and gathered, limbs extending, reaching outward. It was already taking the distinct form and shape of the unfortunate woman and hideous hound!

  And then, dropping the fuel tank onto the nightmare, Raymond rushed back to where we stood not fifteen feet away, pointing his revolver, and fired several times. The can exploded, the flames erupting high into the night to the sounds of a terrifying, drawn out, and mind-shattering shriek!

  The flames swiftly consumed the horror as it convulsed and struggled to escape. As we emptied our weapons into what remained of the nightmare, it still fought to return. We had stood there freezing in the endless flurries and raging winds, watching as it finally conceded. As to our utter shock, all that lingered were the burned remains of a woman and her dog….

  “Oh My God--,” Tim had stared between us as the nightmarish scene, “Was this all some kind of horrible illusion? Did the evil trick us somehow—did we just kill someone in cold blood?”

  Looking between the smoldering remains of the woman and hound in the deep snow, I peered back at my friends, “I don’t know—dear God, I really don’t know….”

  “It’s messing with our minds--,” Raymond spat, “That thing was real alright. I don’t understand what the hell is happening—but there’s some kind of strange game being played.”

  “It’s trying to make us doubt our eyes--,” I stared through the blizzard at the bodies, “Question our own minds. Maybe, just long enough for us to make a mistake.”

  “Let’s get out of this blizzard before we all freeze to death!” Raymond cursed, hurrying us back toward the truck.

  Terrified, we had fumbled with cold and trembling fingers while attempting to reload our weapons. Raymond had fallen silent as he drove slowly up the main street and back toward the church. None of could forget the horror of what had just happened, or the woman’s burning body in the snow. I knew that there was some terrifying method to our adversary’s madness, but just couldn’t quite figure it out….

  “We need to make a decision here, gentlemen!” Raymond had grumbled, glancing over at me and then at Tim in the back, “Do we look around—go back to the church, or just get the hell out of town?”

  “Maybe we should think this out for a moment?” Halting him briefly with a raised finger in thought, I looked between them both, and said, “Maybe, we would be safe in the church for the remainder of the night? Or maybe the two of you could stay there?”

  “Now, what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Tim barked, “What do you mean, ‘the two of us’?”

  “In both cases—those things came after me--,” I pointed out the facts, “Maybe, I’m the main target here?”

  “That’s enough--,” Raymond cut me off in mid-sentence, scowling, and said, “See—it’s already getting to you. We’re going to start making mistakes soon. And that my friends—will be the end of all of us. We started this thing together—and that’s how it’s going to end! I’ll make the call on this one—it’s just too dangerous to stay here any longer. We’ll take our chances on the road home….”

  Neither of us had any opportunity to disagree, as driving down the main street, Raymond followed to where the road met the highway. I could see the little church in passing. Through the snow covered pines, the inferno of the service station reflected upon its pale walls and within the large stained glass windows.

  Raymond had swerved wide to avoid the heat of the billowing flames. Slowly passing what remained of the structure, we had looked upon one another in the reflection of those hellish flames. Not a single word had been uttered, but in the stillness upon death’s doorstep, we understood. For better or worse, our lives had forever changed and there was no going back now. Raymond’s features were somber, solemn as he slowly pulled out. His eyes filled with dark determination as glancing at me briefly, accelerated as we sped onto the highway and into the storm….

  “Thank you for coming back for me--,” Tim had muttered from where he sat while leaning into the cab from between the seats. In a second thought had looked back at me, “Are you going to tell me what happened to Harry?”

  The night having already been filled with enough horror, I simply didn’t have the heart to tell him. Sadly looking between Raymond and Tim, I said, “Maybe it’s better if we leave that conversation for another time?” There hadn’t been any argument as Tim had just silently sunk back into his seat. “There was no one to blame, and nothing that anyone might have done to prevent it.” Swallowing hard with the memory of Harry’s body crucified and hanging from my gates, I looked back at Tim, “None of even knew what was happening until it was too late….”

  Raymond drew one of his revolvers, and placing it down into the center console, said, “We’ll have a heap of trouble waiting for us when we get back.”

  “Maybe not--,” Attempting to offer a little optimism among the chaos, I said, “My estate should be secure enough. And there are other options—ways that we can secure things and protect ourselves. I just need to do some research.”

  “Partner--,” Raymond’s features were twisted with skepticism, “We just left a trail of death and destruction back there—and witnesses. Simms is going to hang us all when he figures this one out.”

  “I honestly wish that he was the worst of our worries--,” Leaning back into my seat and glancing between my frightened friends, I sighed, “In the end, all that we can do is take this one day at a time, and hope for the best….”

  Wearied and worn beyond conversation, we had all just silently stared through the windshield and into the seemingly endless storm, the wipers pulsing to the rhythm of my heart as terror haunted each and every frozen mile. It was a dark and terrifying road we now followed while hoping, praying for the dawn. The miles passed slower and slower as the snow deepened and we were forced to exercise extreme caution.

  Tim had fallen asleep in the back seat, the whistling sounds of his gentle snoring drowned out by the wind’s endless howls. Raymond just stared straight ahead. His eyes barely open, continuously blinking, he fought to stay awake, the gentle sounds of Christmas instrumentals playing on an old eight track as we sailed through the seemingly endless night.

  Thoughts of Caitlin and the others now haunted me. Fearing the worst, I considered the gates and Marlowe’s warning in departure, dreading, regretting having left her alone in the darkest time of our lives….

  “The great shadow follows closely upon your heels--,” The demon’s voice whispered, “As while all others dream safely in the darkness, beyond harm….”

  My heart having been lifted by those alleviating words, the suffering was felt only for those already lost. Contemplating the possibilities, I silently prayed for answers to the terrors of the night. My thoughts were interrupted by a sound behind me. Turning ever so slightly, I peered into the back seat. Restless and obviously enduring nightmare spawned earlier, Tim whimpered, struggling beneath the blankets in the back seat.

  Quie
tly observing his movements in silent pity, I sighed deeply before turning my attention back into the front seat.

  “It’s not even safe to stop anywhere without endangering others--,” Raymond spoke quietly, “But I could really use a cup of coffee right about now.”

  “How are we set for gasoline? Are we starting to run low?” After the slow and hard miles I had looked to the gauges in question.

  “The fuel tanks are full--,” Raymond examined the gauges and tapped a finger upon the plastic faces, “We should have enough to get us as far as we’re going to get….”

  “Well, maybe if it was just a quick stop somewhere?” I fumbled for a thermos on the floor, being absolutely parched, poured and drank the cold tea. “We might be able to get some coffee and other refreshments—if we were very quick about things.”

  “We all saw that thing at the funeral parlor--,” Raymond shook his head with a shudder, “There’s no telling what might be waiting for us somewhere on the road, up ahead. And frankly, I’m afraid to even think about it….”

  “Well, it’s obvious that we have a choice at this point.” Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I yawned while peering back at my friend, “We either stop for coffee—or end up falling asleep somewhere along the way.”

  “Yeah—you’re right.” Raymond shivered as he opened the window ever so slightly, and intentionally shoving his face into the chilling gust, said, “And I’m starving—we haven’t had anything for hours now.”

  “Oh no--,” Tim suddenly sat up from the back seat, “In all of the confusion I forgot the turkey in the oven, and everything boiling on the stove….”

  Raymond had just looked at me, and then peering back at Tim, said, “I certainly hope that you have fire insurance, amigo, or just start hoping that the power went out. Because, there is definitely no way that we are going back there. Not for any reason….”

  Looking absolutely overwhelmed, he had just frowned and licked at parched lips. Offering Tim my thermos, I said, “There’s a little cold tea left in this, if you would care for it? Does anyone know what time it might be?” I noticed that I had broken my wrist-watch during the chaotic events of the night, and removing it, dropped it onto the center console.

  “It’s just after one in the morning--,” Tim swallowed back a mouthful of cold tea and coughed, “It’s going to be at least six hours before daylight.”

  “And with this weather and these road conditions--,” Raymond pondered, “We’d be lucky to even make it into Princeton by then….”

  Reaching over the backseat and into the bag that I had packed, I pulled out Marlowe’s cane, gripping it tightly within both hands. There was a sudden reflection of blackened wings in my window, which now soothed my troubled heart.

  “I don’t think that’ll be of much use--,” Raymond had sighed deeply while looking at the old black cane, “Not unless you intend on beating something with that thing.”

  Slowly turning the silver hound within my palm, I drifted into thought. Gazing upon the shimmering blue gems of its eyes, I quietly said, “Let’s hope that we don’t have to find out…”

  Thursday, December 26, 1974.

  3:35 a.m.

  Having passed a few small towns along route, we hadn’t even bothered attempting to stop as everything was obviously closed. It felt as though we had been traveling for an eternity. Due to the limited visibility and deep snow we had slowed to a crawl. In most cases, I would have known exactly where I was on that highway, but in the blackness and during the white-out conditions everything appeared the same.

  My thoughts had returned to Caitlin and the others. And then, in a hopeless moment, I had contemplated Simms and the eminent damnation when returning home. Raymond had been absolutely right. Once again, we had been involved upon an irrefutable path of death and disaster. And this time, there had even been witnesses that could confirm and testify to our involvement. Even if we managed to survive the horrors of the night, the law would certainly make short work of us all….

  “Already it plays upon your weaknesses—works upon your wearied mind.” Marlowe had whispered from somewhere deep in my thoughts, “Even now your gates bare the sacred symbol, and your estate safeguards all those within.” I had settled back into my seat with the sudden relief of the mystic’s comforting words. “That which you have left within passing shall appear as mere accidents and nothing more. The evil does not betray itself within evidence, but seeks to cast vindication and an ending upon you…”

  I thought to ask how this was possible, but the evidence became vivid within my mind’s eye. The site of the snow plow accident revealing the dead passenger, crushed beneath the truck. Hideously mangled, none would even question as to his apparent cause of death. The woman outside the sporting goods store had clearly been an unfortunate victim. While walking her dog past the shop, she was unexpectedly caught in a chemical detonation. An incident that had occurred as expired munitions had inexplicably ignited, resulting in the explosion and fire that had left her smoldering and unrecognizable remains in the snow…. I shuddered. Staring into oblivion, I saw a revolver and the remains of Charlie Edmond’s head. It was evidence that was resting in rubble near the burning station. A possible robbery that had gone terribly wrong….

  “Oh dear God—no….” I had whispered as the truth became vividly clear, “The whole thing is going to look like a series of freak accidents during a terrible storm.”

  Raymond had looked at me, his expression blank, “What do you mean?”

  Unwilling to share the source and add to the confusion, I had just said, “It’s going to appear as though Charlie’s brother was killed in an accident and crushed beneath the plow. And that woman outside the gun shop--.”

  “Was killed by an unexplained explosion--,” Tim whispered from out of the back seat, “While walking past the store….”

  “That’s why the bodies were returned to normal--,” Raymond added up the series of events, “That thing is covering its trail. And knowing the prejudiced red-neck cops out here--,” Raymond had agreed, “They’ll blame the service station incident on natives trying to rob the place. Well, that’s if they can even find anything left of poor Charlie.” He had almost taken the words from out of my thoughts.

  “What about Father Alistair and Mrs. Laramie?” Tim looked between us as he leaned between our seats, “They’re witnesses—they saw the whole thing at the parlor.”

  “I’m not sure….” Grimacing with the thought, I had attempted to shake the images from my mind, imagining the church chimney blocked by rubble from the service station explosion. And though the flames had been smothered due to the smoke, so were those who unwarily slept within….

  “Which just leaves a bunch of freak accidents--,” Raymond grimaced, having been all too familiar with the incident reports, “And unexplained deaths that become cold case files.”

  “It’s been happening all around us and through time, forever.” Attempting to explain, I said, “These things don’t bother with anyone who doesn’t directly affect their existence. But as for the rest of us—we’re walking targets….”

  “There are lights up ahead--,” Raymond nodded to where a slight glow emanated from above the dark forest, “If it’s an open service station, we’ll make this a really fast stop.”

  “I know that we shouldn’t--,” Tim had placed a hand to his stomach, and appearing nauseated, swallowed hard as he said, “But I think that I might be sick.”

  There was a great apprehension with the decision, but as I looked between my friends, I nodded, “I’ll get the drinks and sandwiches—you take care of business. But be quick, every moment that we spend there could spell disaster for everyone in the place.”

  Slipping the revolver back into its holster, Raymond paused while looking between us, “You boys will have to leave the shotguns in the truck….”

  The weapon had meant very little on my part. Slipping it into the back seat with Tim, I had taken hold of my cane, and shrugged, “We all know how usefu
l those guns have been….”

  “I used mine to set off those canisters of gun-powder at the sporting goods store--,” Raymond quietly reminded me. “And to ignite the gas can that took out that thing.” I wasn’t certain as to whether he was trying to convince me as to how useful they had been, or just prove to himself that we weren’t unarmed, and in the middle of nowhere with death at the doorstep.

  “You’re absolutely right. I’ll feel a lot better knowing that you’re armed when we go out there.” I had only agreed to sustain some semblance of security and sanity within the moment. Although, and for my own part, I hadn’t believed a single word of it….

  We had pulled into the little roadside station and diner, relieved to have noticed that it was almost completely empty. With exception to an old pick-up truck and a station wagon which were parked to the rear of the building, there wasn’t a single soul in sight.

  The storm hadn’t improved, and the visibility was poor to say the very least. Making our way out of the truck and into the service station door, we dusted the snow from ourselves. The bright lights were blinding, but the warmth was welcome. Without a word, we had swiftly hurried about our business.

  As they vanished into the bathrooms to the rear of the store, I had gone to the coolers. Grabbing handfuls of sandwiches, I looked around the store. It was dead silent. With only the steady hum of the fluorescent lights for company, I worked my way around to the shelves. And grabbing candy bars and chips, I peered nervously toward the large picture windows. Nothing but the stillness of the night and seemingly endless snow…. Loading my arms and struggling to avoid dropping anything, I quickly made my way toward the front counter. Placing down my burden of snacks, I peered apprehensively into the blackness beyond the window. Had I seen a shadow, the distinct reflection of someone or something moving out there? The store was apparently empty, and something cold now churned in my guts….