Rougarou II

by Judith Ann McDowell

  “Naw. I’m trying to get rid of some of this weight.” He smacked a hand against his stomach. “But don’t let me stop you from having one.”

  “I won’t.” He reached into the fridge. “What’s up?”

  “I talked to Christina Crawford earlier.” He sat down at the kitchen table. “She wants to have a memorial for the kids. I told her I’d talk to the pastor, where Barb and Jennie and I go to church and see if he would mind having the memorial there. I don’t see him having a problem with it.”

  “Sounds like you’re all set. Since she’ll never have her daughter’s body to lay to rest, havin’ a memorial might bring her some closure.” Jack joined him at the table.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “I can already see a problem here, though.” He raised the bottle to his mouth.

  “What’s that?”

  “Statler ain’t gonna like her havin’ a memorial for his kid. If it ain’t at the Assembly, where he can be in control of everything, it ain’t gonna happen.”

  “He’s going to know about it. Barb’s writing up a notice to put in the paper. I thought if people read about it, some of them might show up.”

  “I see where you’re comin’ from. ‘Cause of Christina’s reputation, all the Christians will feel it their duty to stay home.” He snorted a derisive laugh. “But maybe a few will show up outta curiosity. Right?”

  “That’s what I’m counting on. They’ll all want to get a good look at the woman their husbands are talking about.”

  Jack raised his bottle in a toast. “Amen to that!”

  “So, you think having a memorial at the church is a good idea, then?”

  “Hell yes I think it’s a good idea! In fact, I think it’s a great idea. You know you can count on Seelah and me to show up.”

  “I already knew that. This way, if Statler shows up to start any shit, you’ll be there to help me handle it.”

  “He’ll show up. It involves his kid. He’ll wanna be there to call the shots.”

  “I’m still iffy about taking Jenny, though. This would be her first funeral. If things go the way I think they will, I don’t want her first time to be a frightening experience.”

  “I’d just tell her to be prepared for somethin’ that wouldn’t happen anywhere but this one time. She’s almost twelve-years-old, Donavan. You can’t keep shieldin’ her. Otherwise, she’ll grow up thinkin’ the world’s a safe place. And we know that ain’t so. Don’t we?”

  Donavan looked at him for a long moment. “If you said that to talk me into taking her, I think you just lost your fight.”

  “You know what I mean! I want her to know sometimes, the world can be a scary place. People like Statler do a lotta good, believe it or not.” He twisted the cap off the last bottle of beer.

  “I can’t wait to hear this!”

  “Hey, they do. I’ll tell you why, smart ass! They teach people what to stay away from. If Jenny goes to the funeral and sees Statler foamin’ at the mouth and spewin’ out warnin’s ‘bout the world bein’ the devil’s playground? She’s gonna know to run like hell!”

  “You know, Jack,” Donavan chuckled, “you never cease to amaze me. Every time I think you can’t wind up a point with a valuable lesson, you pull it off!”

  “Then you’re gonna let Jenny go?”

  “Yeah. I might have a hard time talking Barb into it. But yeah. I think, if it’ll show her what not to follow, it’ll be worth it.”

  “If she gives you any shit, tell her to give me a call. I’ll straighten her out.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “In all seriousness though, Statler has problems. I’m talkin’ big problems.” Jack drank the last of his beer.

  “I know and that’s the last thing we need right now. I think the parish is in for another nightmare like the Jonathan Hindel fiasco. I hope I’m wrong, but, the way things are shaping up I don’t think I am. Which brings me back to a point we’re still not in agreement on.”

  “Seelah and me stayin’ with you and Barb until this is all over. Right?”

  Donavan nodded. “We both know it isn’t safe for the two of you to be here alone. You should reconsider and move in with us.”

  “Seelah says she’s confident Chandra would warn us if anything’s comin’ down. And, she likes being in our own house.” He gave Donavan a sheepish grin. “I don’t like arguin’ with her right now.”

  “Or any other time.” Donavan laughed outright. “Okay, if that’s what you feel is best. Just know the offer is always there. I got a feeling that all hell is about to break loose in this town.”

  “I wish I could disagree with you, but I can’t. If ever a town needed to be surrounded by angels, Saint Anthony Parish is that town!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  A full moon enclosed the mansion in a silver glow, but deep in the bowels of the cave, there dwelled an unhealthy-darkness.

  Chanting voices rose to a fever pitch as one by one the torches, placed in the many holders along the walls, were lit to bath the faces of the assembly in an orange-yellow glow.

  Dressed in a long, black, hooded robe, Rafael Hindel stepped forward to place his hands upon an altar. As he picked up a silver chalice, the chanting stopped.

  With the chalice held upright with both hands his deep voice rang out. “Hear me, oh father of darkness. This night, another son will take his place beside you to fulfill your desires upon this plane and ask to receive your sacred gift of immortality.”

  The faithful parted as a lone figure, dressed in a long, blood-red robe made his way towards the altar. Lawrence Hindel reached out to grasp the hand being held out to him.

  “Are you ready to meet the one master of this plane?” Rafael asked him.

  “I am,” Lawrence answered stepping to the altar.

  “What are you willing to offer to the master for the gift you covet?”

  “To the master I pledge to embrace the dark side and all the souls residing therein.”

  “Step forward to greet your master and the master of all who dwell on this plane.”

  Lawrence tried to still the tremor of fear racing forward in his mind. Telling himself he must stand firm and show the one coming he deserved this gift.

  A great howling erupted into the quiet and as the piercing sound filled the air everyone bowed their head.

  His mind screamed in panic as he watched a shadowy figure move towards him.

  “You will show no fear, Lawrence,” Rafael told him. “This night you will look into the face of darkness and receive the power of the master!”

  Lawrence tried not to flinch, but his body began to twitch and then convulse in spasms.

  Rafael jerked him upright. “Stop it, Lawrence!” Rafael hissed close to his face. “Do you want to be known as weak in front of all our people? You are the son of Jonathan Hindel! You will stand upright and show no fear!”

  “Come forward,” the vaporous shadow commanded, holding out his hand.

  Lawrence could not make his body respond. He could hear himself moaning and weeping, but he could not seem to stop.

  “LAWRENCE!” his name exploded inside his mind seeming to release him from the paralyzing terror holding him in its grip.

  The shadowed figure stood watching him, his hand extended, waiting for Lawrence to acknowledge him.

  At last, Lawrence held out his hand. He felt himself being wrapped in the arms of the dark energy.

  Sickening visions ripped through his mind of tortured souls withering in the throes of a burning fire their charred and bleeding bodies convulsing as they tried in vain to escape the flames. He could hear their screams and smell the putrid stench of burning flesh. Then, without warning, the vision changed to one of quiet calm and souls dressed in white walking beside a shimmering lake of turquoise blue water. Their faces held a tranquil serenity and they laughed and sang as they walked towards a figure surrounded by a blinding white light.

  Lawrence saw himself standing in a rich green meadow
and felt his mind settle as the light moved towards him. He felt all his fear and terror drift away as an overpowering feeling of love surrounded him. He began to walk forward when someone stepped in front of him.

  The dark figure blocked the shining light and all else from Lawrence’s view.

  Lawrence blinked unable to believe his eyes as he saw his father standing before him.

  “This night you will make a choice of where you wish to spend eternity, my son,” Jonathan told him. “But know this, if you choose to follow the dark side, you will know power the likes of which your mortal mind cannot imagine. You will never have to fear the ravages of disease torturing this plane or die a painful death at someone else’s hand. You will be in control of all you choose. No one will be able to harm you. You will be able to live on this plane for hundreds of years without having to die and come back to start over. All this will be yours if you choose to give your soul to the dark side.”

  For a moment, Lawrence tried once more to see the beautiful meadow, but Jonathan stepped closer until all the light became foreshadowed in darkness.

  “You are my one son, Lawrence. I wish for you to know all the greatness this night can give you.”

  Although he tried not to let fear enter in again he felt himself losing the battle as the grotesque images shot into his mind once more.

  “You saw but a moment in time, Lawrence. When you become immortal, you will have centuries to enjoy this life. The Olivier’s of this world will never make you cower before them again! You will walk with your head high and it will be you who is in control of all the weaker souls of this plane.”

  When Lawrence opened his eyes, Jonathan had disappeared.

  “What life will you choose, Lawrence?” Rafael asked him.

  “I choose to walk the path of my father.” Surprised at how strong and sure his voice sounded in the surrounding silence.

  Rafael reached out and drew him into his arms. “The choice you have made is wise, Lawrence. I am proud of you.”

  A shrill scream split the silence and Lawrence turned to see where the sound came from. In the light of flickering torches, he watched a young woman being led towards him. When she stood within his reach the two men beside her stepped back out of the way.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” she cried. “If you let me go I promise not to tell anyone what has happened here.”

  Lawrence looked at her, noting the sheer white dress clinging to her ripe curves and her long black hair falling down her back.

  He turned to Rafael. “Why has she been brought here?”

  “She is here for you, Lawrence. She will be the first to feed the hunger, that after this night you will never get enough of.” A deep laugh rumbled from his throat as he stepped forward to rip the dress from her body. “Take her, Lawrence. Feel the power well up in your soul as you taste the sweet wine waiting for you.”

  Almost against his will, Lawrence felt himself move forward to take the terrified girl into his arms.

  In her terror she lashed out, slapping him hard against his face.

  Her brazenness brought forth an uncontrollable rage in Lawrence. He jerked her against him and without thinking, sank his teeth into her flesh.

  Sweet, intoxicating blood gushed into his mouth. Then he felt another desire begin to overpower him.

  The girl continued to fight him when he threw her to the floor of the cave. She stared up at him unable to move as she saw him tearing at his robe.

  “No,” she screamed in her terror, “let me go! You filthy little creep! Don’t you dare put your hands on me!”

  All the shame he had endured from others wielding their control over his life exploded in a frenzy of outrage as Lawrence yanked her legs wide to ram himself into her. He could feel her body buck upward as she tried to rid herself of this unwanted intrusion. Her futile struggles but fueled his need. When he at last felt the hot juices pour from his loins he stretched his body out straight.

  The power he enjoyed as he lifted his head to stare down at her felt overwhelming. He leaned forward to lick the blood from her wounds. The more he licked, the more he craved.

  The girl kicked out one foot catching Lawrence in the groin, making him roll off her body. Instead of withering on the floor in agony, he found he enjoyed the pain she had unleashed on his body. With a low growl, he straddled her and bending forward began to enjoy her blood and body in earnest.

  Rafael watched Lawrence gorging himself on the girl’s flesh and he smiled; sure in his mind that at long last Lawrence had now become the man Jonathan would want him to be.

  The smell of blood and raw flesh whipped those in attendance into a frenzy. As they came forward to take part in the feeding, they found themselves turned away.

  “You will wait to be asked before you enjoy the fruits of this night! It is for Lawrence to say who will join him in his feasting!” Rafael told them.

  At last Lawrence stood, his mouth covered in blood, to look around at the faces watching him. He held out his hand in invitation for them to come forward. “You are welcome to satisfy your hunger.”

  Rafael pulled his grandson against his chest. “You have made me proud this night, Lawrence.”

  Lawrence drew in his breath as his body began to throb with excruciating pain. “Grandfather, what is happening to me?” he screamed out his words.

  “To live, Lawrence, you must first be willing to die. You are being reborn. Your body is changing into what you traded your soul to inherit. You are becoming one of us, Lawrence.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Two pictures in plain wooden frames sat on a small table covered in white linen. One picture showed a striking young girl, the other, a handsome young man. A single white rose lay atop each picture. Symbolic of youthful innocence.

  Seated between Jack and Donavan, Christina Crawford forced herself to look at the pictures and her heart cried out in anguish. She covered her mouth to stop the screams from spilling out into the silence.

  As the pastor walked to the altar, Donavan and Jack reached out to take her hand.

  “Today we are gathered here to say goodbye to two young people who will be sorely missed by their family and friends.”

  At his words, every eye in the church turned to gaze on the pictures.

  “Since they spent the last moments on this earth together,” Pastor Donaldson continued, “Ms. Crawford thought it appropriate they share in this memorial. It is hard to imagine the passing of Tina Crawford and Paul Statler being any sadder than it is on this day.” He paused to look out over the faces of the congregation. “However, when I learned what else their death has cheated them of, I wept. In less than forty-eight hours Tina and Paul planned to join their friends, on their special night, to receive the diploma they have worked so hard to achieve. Earning their right to step into the adult world and see what the next chapter in their lives held for them. Now, that will not happen.”

  From the podium he picked up two scrolls, each tied with a gold ribbon. “Parish High School has elected to give these deserving young adults what they have earned.”

  The congregation rose to their feet as Donaldson walked to the small table to place a scroll before each picture.

  To the utter shock of everyone there, an obese man leaped to his feet to stride up the aisle. When even with the table, he reached out, slapping the white rose and scroll to the floor.

  Overwhelmed at the man’s blatant disrespect, the pastor took hold of his arm. “You are in the house of the Lord. What are you doing?”

  The man stopped. “You will remove your hands from me this instant!” He jerked his arm away. “I am Reverend Statler and this,” he held up the picture for all to see, “is my son, Paul!”

  “Reverend Statler,” the pastor’s hand dropped to his side, “I realize you are in mourning, but this is no way to behave at your son’s memorial.”

  “My son’s memorial?” The angry words spewed from his throat. “No one gave permission for this church to hold a memorial for
my son!”

  At the very moment Donavan and Jack eased from their pew, Seelah heard a deep voice whisper within her mind.

  “Look at the man your God has placed before the people to teach his word.”

  She turned in her seat to see a stranger standing at the back of the church. As she continued to stare at him, he bowed in her direction. Seelah breathed a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself and then faced forward to focus on the goings on around her.

  By now, Donavan and Jack stood at the altar. Donavan placed a hand on Statler’s arm. “Reverend Statler,” Donavan eased in close, “don’t make this any harder than it has to be. I realize you are upset, but you are making a complete fool of yourself. And, you are interrupting Tina Crawford’s memorial.”

  “Do you think I care about her?” he yelled turning to stare at the stunned faces watching him.

  The grimace on Statler’s face had Donavan looking to Jack for his help in removing the man from the church.

  “She pulled my son down into the darkness and allowed the devil to take his soul!”

  “Come on Reverend Statler, Detective Olivier’ and I are going to help you get away from here. All you have to do is turn around and walk down this aisle.”

  They had taken but a few steps when Statler’s gaze fell on Christina. He stopped, pointing an accusing finger in her direction. “Fornicator of demons, I will see you burn in hell for what you have stolen from me!”

  “Oh for Christ’s sake, will you give it a rest?” Jack’s voice exploded into the silence, spurring Donavan to quicken his steps in removing Statler from the church.

  In the midst of all the drama, no one noticed a tall man dressed in black leave his pew to move up the aisle to seat himself beside Christina. “I will see he is made to suffer, for all the hell he has put you through.” He took her small hand in his.

  Christina turned to gaze at him. “Thank you. He is a man without mercy.”

  “By the time I am through with him, he will beg for mercy.”

  Seelah grabbed Jenny’s hand and motioning Barbara to follow them, scurried from their pew. Leaving Christina in the hands of the most charismatic man, she had ever met.