Black Rite

by Allen Caraway

  Aritenkhede.

  The being that formed in front of us was exactly as Gary had described and I gazed at him with a mixture of terror, hate and awe. He paid no attention to Lizzy or me, his attention solely fixed on Harkinen.

  YOU HAVE DISSOBEYED ME, Aritenkhede said. I TOLD YOU NOT TO CAUSSE HER PHYSSICAL HARM.

  ‘My Lord, she provoked me. It was all her fault.’

  PROVOKED?

  Aritenkhede’s face was far more expressive than I had imagined and it was obvious that he wasn’t convinced.

  ‘She made me do it,’ Harkinen said in a fawning whine. ‘She made me so mad I couldn’t help myself.’

  LIAR.

  ‘My Lord, it’s true. I didn’t mean to disobey you.’

  YOU LIE!

  ‘My Lord-’

  Aritenkhede raised a finger and beckoned to Harkinen, who rose a few inches into the air and floated towards him, his feet dragging across the dirt floor. He began to whimper.

  ‘Please … Please … I’m sorry I’m sorry I didn’t mean to I didn’t mean to I won’t do it again I’m sorrrryyy!’

  He stopped in front of Aritenkhede, who thrust his head forward until their noses touched.

  ‘Pleeeaase!’

  SSHUT UP.

  Harkinen did so.

  IF I CANNOT RELY UPON YOU TO DO ASS I ASSK, TO SSERVE ME WITHOUT QUESSTION, THEN I HAVE NO USSE FOR YOU. He turned towards Mike. HE ISS YOURSS, IF YOU WISSH IT.

  ‘No!’ Harkinen shouted.

  ‘I wish it all right,’ Mike said. ‘And I wish he was mortal again.’

  ‘No! Nooo!’ Harkinen yelled. ‘Pleeeaaase!’

  DONE.

  ‘Noooooooo-!’

  His cry stopped abruptly. There was a brief pause, no more than a few seconds, as if Harkinen was trying to comprehend what was now happening to him, what he was feeling, then he screamed.

  Harkinen’s muscles were atrophying. It was as if a virulent and fast acting cancer had enveloped his body and was voraciously eating his flesh. He looked down at his left hand, the tendons and bones pushing through his skin, and screamed again, the sound increasing in intensity: a long, high, raw sound infused with pain and disbelief, and as his flesh withered, so his stomach distended. Pulsed. Splitting his shirt in two.

  Aritenkhede released the invisible hold he had on Harkinen and his emaciated, mummy-like body fell to the ground, where he lay shaking and screaming until finally he grew still, his screams turning into feeble gasps and croaks until they too faded away, his stomach now a huge, throbbing mound.

  The barn fell silent.

  Except for the grotesque ball that his midsection had become, there was nothing left of him. Merely a skeleton covered in leathery brown skin.

  I’d lost all awareness of Lizzy, Aritenkhede and the children; my eyes riveted to the thing that was once Beau Harkinen.

  His grossly swollen bellybutton began to pulse at a separate, more intense pace than the rest of his stomach as if something within was pushing against it, the bellybutton rising higher and higher until it suddenly ripped open and a small hand thrust itself through the hole.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  A second hand appeared, then I could see two pink baby sized arms, a head, then a torso. It heaved itself out, wailing, and tumbled to the ground where it lay panting; a grotesque wrinkled humanoid thing that I instinctively knew was Ramiro Harkinen, his demonic form transformed into flesh and blood. I felt a surge of intense hatred and revulsion, feeling no compassion at all when Mike lumbered forward, picked Ramiro up by one ankle and shook him violently.

  Ramiro screamed again, then as Mike lifted him so that his empty sockets faced Ramiro’s eyes, the screaming turned into violent sobbing.

  ‘Well hullo you little turd,’ Mike said. ‘Welcome back to the mortal world. So, what shall we do with you, eh?’

  Ramiro made some loud inarticulate sounds as if he was trying to talk, but had forgotten how to.

  ‘Wassamatter, cat got your tongue?’ Mike said in a mocking tone.

  Ramiro tried again, louder this time, almost shouting, his frustration palpable.

  ‘Sorry, can’t understand a word, you poor widdle thing.’ Mike brought Ramiro closer to his ruined face. ‘You look fat and delicious. I think we may have to eat you. Slowly.’

  Ramiro began to thrash around, screeching, and Mike – taken by surprise – nearly dropped him, regaining his grip on Ramiro’s chubby little leg at the last second.

  ‘Slippery little fucker, aren’t you?’ He turned and faced the other children, holding up Ramiro like a trophy. ‘Shall we eat him, or play with him for a while, then eat him?’

  ‘Why don’t we eat a little bit, play with him while he heals, then eat a bit more?’ one of the other corpses said.

  ‘Jiminy Cricket, that’s a fine idea! And he can come live with us. Underground. For eternity. A nourishing snack for whenever we get hungry.’ Mike slapped Ramiro’s ass, hard. Ramiro squealed again. ‘Won’t that be cozy, eh, cuntface?’ He turned and looked at me. ‘If that’s all right with you, mister?’

  Astonished, I shrugged and then nodded.

  ‘Okay. Well, you just hang tight.’ Mike pointed at the deputy. ‘They’ll start wondering why he hasn’t called in and come check.’ Then, bizarrely, he waved at me. ‘See ya around.’

  I seriously fucking hope not, I thought as I watched the corpses shuffle and lurch out of the barn.

  A few seconds later, I heard the sound of singing.

  If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!

  If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!

  If you're happy and you know it, and you really want to show it;

  If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!

  AREN’T THEY JUSST ADORABLE?

  I turned my head and looked at Aritenkhede, my astonishment reaching new, previously unexplored levels. He was grinning.

  Could this possibly get any weirder? I thought.

  ‘You’re fucking kidding me, right?’ I heard myself say, then immediately regretted it.

  Instead of turning me into a pile of ash for being insolent, he laughed.

  I LIKE YOU. YOU’RE TOUGH. GOT SSPIRIT.

  Wasn’t sure what to make of that, of being complimented by the personification of evil, darkness, death and chaos and told that he ‘liked’ me. I mean, what the fuck?

  ‘Why did you protect Lizzy?’ I said. ‘Why did you agree to bring her back and then instruct Ramiro to not harm her?’

  THERE WASS ONCE A HIGH PRIESSTESS IN KATOREMSSEH CALLED QALTAHA. SSHE WASS A DEVOTED SSERVANT OF MINE AND THE KING’SS FAVORITE AMONG HISS SSISTERSS. QALTAHA PERSSUADED HIM TO BUILD MANY TEMPLESS DEVOTED TO ME AND SSHE ALSO FOUNDED THE ORDER OF ARITENKHEDE, SSPREAD ITSS TEACHINGSS FAR INTO NEIGHBORING LANDSS AND WASS SSOLELY RESSPONSSIBLE FOR VASSTLY INCREASSING THE NUMBER OF MY DISCIPLESS. IN DOING SSO, MY POWER INCREASSED TENFOLD, AND WITHOUT HER, I, AND THE ORDER, WOULD NOT BE ASS WE ARE NOW. ASS THE ORDER AND MY DISCIPLESS GREW, SSO DID OPPOSSITION FROM OTHER RELIGIONSS AND SSHE DIED WHILE DEFENDING MY MOSST IMPORTANT TEMPLE AGAINSST OUR ENEMIESS.

  YOU MAY THINK I AM EVIL, BUT I NEVER FORGET LOYALTY AND ALWAYSS LOOK AFTER THOSSE WHO SSERVE ME WELL. WHEN HER SSOUL RETURNED TO YOUR PLANE, IT CHOSSE TO DO SSO WITHIN ELIZABETH’SS BODY AND ALTHOUGH I AGREED TO BRING HER BACK, I DID NOT AGREE THAT SSHE SSHOULD BE HARMED. A DEBT ISS A DEBT AND I OWE QALTAHA A GREAT DEAL.

  ‘You’re trying to tell me that you felt indebted. To a human.’

  YESS.

  ‘Unbelievable.’ I let that sink in, then said, ‘But how could you agree to bring Lizzy back when you knew that she didn’t want to be here anymore? That merely being alive would be torture for her?’

  BECAUSSE YOUR BROTHER ASSKED ME TO, AND HE PAID ME. I DO NOT DENY A REQUESST IF I AM PAID APPROPRIATELY.

  ‘Even if it means the suffering of one who you say you’re indebted to?’

  QALTAHA IS NOT A
WARE THAT SSHE HASS RETURNED BECAUSSE IT ISS ELIZABETH’SS PERSSONALITY THAT ISS THE CONSSCIOUSS, DOMINANT ONE IN THISS INCARNATION. A SSOUL HAS MANY FACESS, ALL EXISSTING AT ONCE.

  ‘But you don’t care that Lizzy suffered?’

  WHY WOULD I CARE? I WILL ONLY PROTECT HER SSOUL AND HER BODY; PROTECT THE VESSEL THAT ALLOWSS THE SSOUL, ALLOWS QALTAHA, TO LEARN ALL THAT SSHE ISS SSUPPOSSED TO LEARN IN THISS INCARNATION. I DO NOT NEED TO PROTECT HER MIND. YOUR WOMAN IS SSTRONG. SSHE CAN NOW, IN THISS, HER SSECOND LIFE, COPE WITH EMOTIONAL PAIN, ASS YOU WELL KNOW.

  ‘You’re heartless.’

  OF COURSSE. IT ISS IN MY NATURE TO BE SSO.

  ‘And I can’t understand how a soul can be multifaceted: how it can have one part that is a high priestess who worshipped you and another part a devoted Catholic. It doesn’t make sense.’

  I AM NOT SSURPRISSED THAT YOU CANNOT UNDERSSTAND. YOU ARE MORTAL. IT ISS BEYOND YOUR COMPREHENSSION.

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Not in the least bit insulting. ‘So what becomes of us now? What will you do with us?’

  DO? I WILL DO NOTHING. AND IF YOU TREAT ME WITH RESSPECT AND LEAVE ME ALONE, I WILL LEAVE YOU ALONE. BUT I WILL ALWAYSS BE AROUND.’

  ‘Watching out for Lizzy.’

  YESS.

  ‘Huh.’ I had mixed feelings about that, but thought it wise to keep them to myself.

  YOUR GODFATHER ISS APPROACHING, SSO I WILL LEAVE YOU NOW. GOODBYE, BRUCE KAIN. WE WILL MEET AGAIN.

  He slowly dematerialized, dissipating like black fog in a light breeze, and the last thing I saw before he vanished completely was his wide malevolent grin.

  ~

  Jack arrived two minutes later, screeching to a halt in front of the house. I heard his truck’s door open, slam shut.

  ‘Bruce?! Lizzy?!’

  ‘IN HERE!’

  The sound of running footsteps.

  He appeared in the doorway, freezing mid step, his eyes widening as they swept over Beau, Lizzy and finally me.

  ‘Jesus Christ.’

  Then he moved. Jack was not one to stay shocked for more than a few seconds. His instinct to take charge of any situation – however bizarre - and do whatever was necessary, always kicked in, especially during an emergency.

  First, he checked Lizzy. ‘Well, she’s breathing.’ He glanced at me. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Beau punched her in the face, knocked her out.’

  He glanced at me, took a long, hard look at Beau, then returned his attention to Lizzy and put her in the recovery position. His silence was unnerving.

  ‘Why aren’t you asking questions, Jack? And how come you knew we were in trouble?’

  ‘Robin Ashmont woke me up. Appeared in my room and shook me awake. Scared the shit outta me. Then she brought me up to speed on the way over.’

  ‘She did what?! … But-?’

  ‘Later. We’ll talk later. When I know Lizzy’s okay. Then you can tell me what the hell happened here.’

  Lizzy? I thought. Why’s he calling her Lizzy? Twice now. Surely it was a slip. He can’t know. Surely he can’t know.

  ‘Maddie, Jack, she’s called Maddie.’

  He gave me a level look. ‘I know who she is, Son.’

  I stared at him and could see from the look on Jack’s face that there was no point in trying to deceive him anymore.

  ‘Like I said, we’ll talk later.’ Jack stood up, walked over and untied me. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah, I guess.’

  ‘Functional?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Good. Sheriff’s office and paramedics are on their way.’

  I stared at Beau. ‘How am I going to explain that? They’ll think I’m nuts if I tell them the truth.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘I don’t know, Son, I really don’t know.’

  ~

  They released Lizzy from Channon Valley Hospital in the afternoon. Jack picked her up. I was still at the main sheriff’s office station in Bronson, sitting in a small interview room beside my attorney while two detectives questioned me about Beau’s and the deputy’s deaths.

  Eventually, I returned to the ranch and Lizzy and I attempted to resume a normal life. We invited Jack over when Heather was visiting a girlfriend in Carnfold and told him everything, his reaction much the same as Father Kearney’s had been.

  ‘Does Heather know about Lizzy?’ I said.

  Jack shook his head. ‘No, and I don’t think she needs to. For now, anyway.’

  ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘A while. The cookout decided me, so I did some checking and discovered that Lizzy here doesn’t have a great niece.’

  ‘How did you find that out?’ Lizzy said.

  ‘I’m a rich man, sweetheart, and rich men know all kinds of useful people.’ He smiled wryly.

  ‘But you of all people,’ I said, ‘to believe that Lizzy was back from the dead? I’ve never known anyone who’s more skeptical of the supernatural.’

  ‘Oh I took some convincing, a lot of convincing, but when I reviewed the facts, I could only come to one conclusion: that Lizzy was alive again, incredible as that may be.’ He paused, then said, ‘Beau wasn’t the only one who saw her the night she returned.’

  We stared at him in horrified silence.

  ‘I saw her too.’

  Lizzy and I glanced at each other. She had gone pale.

  ‘Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I drive over to Redwood Cemetery, park up and just sit for a while. As you know, I visit your godmother regularly and even when the cemetery is closed and I can’t go in and see her, just knowing that she’s nearby helps to soothe me. After a while, when I feel better, start feeling sleepy, I go home. This may sound odd, downright creepy in fact, but sometimes a man has to do what he can to find peace, even if it seems weird to others.’

  ‘No, I don’t think that’s weird,’ I said. ‘I understand. Better than you might think.’

  Jack smiled. ‘Anyway, that night I was parked near the gates and thinking about the time that Sally and I took the kids to Disneyland, when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head and there you were, Lizzy, covered in dirt and standing behind the gates, clutching them with a wild look on your face. Then you turned and ran away. I know you didn’t see me, didn’t know I was there.

  ‘Well, for a moment, I just stared at where you’d stood, my jaw practically resting on my chest. I recognized you immediately. At first, I thought I’d seen a ghost, then I thought, shit, I don’t believe in ghosts. Then I told myself that I’d just imagined it. I was in a bad way that night, really missing Sally, and I concluded that in my distressed state of mind I’d just hallucinated. Almost convinced myself of that. Then I met you. Nearly had a goddamn heart attack.’

  Lizzy grinned. ‘Coulda fooled me. My first impression of you was that you were so laid back and calm, you were practically horizontal.’

  ‘That’s ‘cause I was stunned senseless and busy trying to persuade my ticker to keep its shit together.’

  We laughed.

  ‘And by the end of the cookout, I could no longer ignore the truth. And now that you’ve told me what Gary did – and everything else – it all makes sense. Well, as much as this crazy shit can make sense.’

  ‘If it’s any consolation,’ Lizzy said, ‘I think it’s as crazy as you do.’

  ‘Thanks. That actually helps.’

  EPILOGUE

  Saturday, July 25, 2027

  It’s been almost twelve years since Gary performed the ceremony and brought me back. Twelve years. Wow. It went so fast. Too, too fast.

  Bruce and I stayed at the ranch. I haven’t aged a day, but Bruce did. He did it gracefully and it wasn’t much of a change, just a few wrinkles, and he started going gray of course, but he still looked younger than his years. The Kain genes I guess. About eighteen months ago, we’d talked about moving on. Bruce was concerned that the townsfolk would start wondering why I hadn’t aged.

 
“One day,” he said, “as I get older, people will start to talk. They’ll ask questions: ‘Why isn’t she aging? Who is she really? What is she?’ And that’s when our problems will start again.”’

  Bruce thought that having Jack, Heather and Tony around wouldn’t be enough, and when they were gone, when he was gone, I’d be on my own. So he thought that within the next five years or so, we’d have to sell up and either move from town to town every few years, or perhaps buy an RV and live on the road. It would have been a lonely life, not making any close friends and moving on before people could see that I wasn’t growing older. Before the questions started. But that will never happen.

  Bruce died in November.

  Cancer.

  I was devastated. Am devastated. Can’t live without him.

  Jack, Heather, Tony and June, Don, everyone has been so kind, but I can’t go on.

  I’ve thought about it for over a month now and I can see only one solution, one way out. I only hope that he will hear me, give me what I want and take back the life that he gave to me.

  I want to go home.

  March 17, 2011 - September 20, 2011

  June 13, 2015 – December 28, 2016

  April 10, 2017 – October 30, 2017

  ~

  DID YOU ENJOY THIS BOOK?

  Thank you for purchasing a copy of Black Rite. If you enjoyed my novel, would you take a few seconds to post a review on Kobo, Goodreads and social media? I’d be forever grateful to you.

  Warmest regards,

  Allen Caraway

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Allen Caraway’s love of horror began as a child when he discovered his grandmother’s book collection. After living in California, he was inspired to set many of his stories between the United Kingdom and America, publishing his first novel, the paranormal murder-mystery Nilsen’s Hollow, in 2012.

  In his spare time, Allen enjoys reading, hiking, art, music, photography and watching Formula 1.