Shadows Rising

by Dean Rasmussen

  The medallion’s red glow seeped from his jacket pocket. He pulled it out and the light burst across the walls, revealing four black torsos within a web of tentacles surrounding them. Every beak flew open at once, exposing ghastly arrays of teeth, fluttering black tongues, and throbbing strips of slimy flesh lining the windpipes. Without warning, it vented a deafening screech and recoiled.

  Michael’s open backpack waited for him on the stairs. He scooped it up as he turned away from the battle trapping Pastor John and his men.

  As they rushed up the stairs, the men’s screams replaced the gunfire. Metal clanked against stone in rapid succession and the screams became groans and cries for help. At the top of the stairs, Joey shined his flashlight back down the stairs. Pastor John lay on his side and twisted within the creature’s grasp. He bared his teeth and glared up at Michael. “That medallion is mine! You’re not worthy to hold it.”

  They turned away, and the noises faded.

  “You okay?” Rebecca asked them.

  “Okay is a relative term,” Michael said. “Nothing serious. I’ll be fine.”

  “My head hurts,” Joey said.

  They hurried past the corner where they had turned right at the intersection before being detoured by Audrey’s screams. They went straight, following the directions on the map this time. Now they knew Audrey’s location. A burst of energy surged through him with the knowledge his grandfather might still be alive. He paused and ran his fingers over the wound where the creature had ripped its teeth across his forearm earlier. Nothing that wouldn’t heal.

  Michael led them through the tunnel, the red glow of the medallion faded as they escaped the battleground with Pastor John. Faint chatter and more gunshots echoed in the distance. Michael held the medallion out ahead of them even as the stone grew cold and dark. They switched on their flashlights. He hesitated for the longest time to put it away.

  “Thank God for that thing.” Rebecca lit up the medallion. “Keep it in a safe place.”

  Michael’s hands trembled as he returned it to his jacket pocket. He wiped the back of his hand over his cheek and some fluid pooled at the corner of his mouth. He tasted the bitter substance and spit it out.

  Rebecca’s flashlight caught his face. “You’ve got more in your hair.”

  Joey flashed his light across Michael’s jacket and pants. “Geez, man, you’re a mess.”

  Michael glanced down. In a different setting he might be mistaken for a butcher.

  The tunnel narrowed, and the ceiling dropped, so they hunkered forward to avoid bumping their heads against the ceiling. They turned right and came out into an area where they could stand straight again. The stones in the walls of this section of the tunnel were a lighter color as if they had been built more recently. The walls were smoother with the occasional colorful depiction of people, symbols, and language. A complex illustration covered the entire ceiling of that section, illustrating astrological signs, zodiac symbols, and using lines and points to map out the constellations.

  “Leo.” Michael gestured to one area of the ceiling.

  “Huh?” Joey said.

  “That’s my zodiac sign. Leo. I’ve never understood that. Why use a snake to represent Leo the lion?”

  Joey studied it.

  “Someone sure took a long time to paint all that,” Rebecca said. “It’s beautiful.”

  “A lot different from the paintings in the temple,” Michael said. “Not as old.”

  “Why would someone take the time to do that down here?” Rebecca looked at Michael.

  Michael’s eyes darted from wall to wall as even the smallest hole became a potential point of attack from the creatures. The floor ahead dropped away, and Michael held his hand out to slow them down. He held his flashlight high above his head and revealed a stairway that descended into darkness. Near the bottom of the stairs, the faint outline of what looked like a body lay against the edge of the wall.

  “We have to go back and get my mom,” Rebecca said.

  Michael stopped and met her eyes. “We won’t leave here without them.”

  They descended the stairs, their footsteps echoing around them. Their flashlights caused shadows to dance at the bottom of the stairs at the edge of his sight. A quarter-sized spider dangled in front of him, and he veered around it as he continued down the stairs. Michael focused his light on the perceived body at the bottom of the stairs, but it was only the shredded remains of clothing covering another human sized object. Michael tapped the pile with his foot, and it wobbled as a single object. No body parts extended out from below the clothing, but from everything he’d seen so far, he had no doubt there was a corpse in there. Each of them lit it up and stepped around it.

  At the bottom of the stairs, they entered a small room like a walk-in closet with a single large stone slab covering most of the wall to their right. Ahead of them another staircase led farther down into the darkness.

  “Where do we go now?” Joey asked.

  Michael walked over and shined his light down the other stairway. “I guess we go down those stairs. According to the map we should be in the temple now.” Michael searched all the corners and the ceiling for any openings.

  “There’s no door,” Rebecca said.

  Joey ran his flashlight along the edge of the large stone slab and peeked through the crack. “Guys, I think there’s something behind this rock.”

  Michael peeked through the crack, maybe only the width of a paperclip, and the light from his flashlight shot through into another room. Joey dug his fingers into the crack on his side and pulled. The slab shifted a tiny amount, but maybe that had been his imagination. That slab must have weighed tons. Joey paused, rubbed his fingers, then clawed at the crack again, this time growling as the slab shifted out toward him and pushed in where Michael stood. Michael leaned on his side of the slab, and the whole thing rotated from the center.

  “Whoa,” Joey said.

  29

  “Get out of the way!” Michael jerked back.

  The stone slab revolved atop an unseen pivot, dropping Joey across the threshold into a new room. He scrambled to pull his feet in before the door had completed a turn. Michael and Rebecca shoved on the opposite side to slow it down. Without much effort it stopped on the half-turn and they stepped into the room.

  “Wow,” Joey said. “That thing must weigh a ton. How is it turning?” He put his face down against the floor and shined his flashlight at the base.

  A rush of relief passed through Michael as he recognized the drawings on the walls. They were in the main temple. The door straight across the room would lead them back up into the church. They had circled around within the tunnels to the other side of the temple. This was as far as they had gotten with Finn before Pastor John had stopped them. A way out was within reach. Now they only needed to rescue Rebecca’s mom and his grandfather.

  Despite the exit across the room, they would need to hurry. Michael slid his backpack onto the floor and crouched down as he dug out the map. Rebecca and Joey stood over him.

  Rebecca pointed over his shoulder. “If that’s the room where I saw my mom, it looks like the only way to rescue her is by going down there and around.” Rebecca traced a line with her finger over the map.

  “Down below this temple.” Michael gestured toward the well entrance in the center of the room and pointed down. “There’s a room down there we have to go through.”

  “Where the demon took Finn.” Rebecca spun to Michael with her eyes wide. “Maybe he’s still alive down there too?”

  “Maybe.” Michael studied the map again. “If this is correct, we can circle around and come back up the other side to the place Finn was pointing to.” The map was starting to make sense now. Michael folded it and returned it to his backpack.

  As he stood up, gunshots rang out through the doorway from where they had entered. They crossed the room toward the stairway leading up into the basement of the church, but exiting now would destroy any hope of rescuing their fami
ly members. Pastor John’s guards would capture them as soon as they opened the door. They were trapped, but at least there were places to hide. Michael dropped below a waist high stone wall surrounding the pit area, and dug his pistol and flashlight from his backpack. Rebecca handed one of her pistols to Joey and joined him, hiding behind a stone pillar at the side of the room.

  Cries of panic and pain streamed into the temple as Pastor John and one of his guards struggled with the creature in the stairway. The pivoting stone door sat wide open. They should have closed it, but it made no difference. Pastor John surely knew how it worked. Michael perched himself at the top edge of the stone wall and aimed his pistol toward the door. One guard appeared in the doorway first. A tentacle held one of his legs as he clawed at the surrounding stones. Pastor John jumped over the man, landing inside the temple. The guard’s flashlight raced from side to side as flailing limbs thrashed his body against the walls of the stairway.

  Michael held Pastor John in his pistol sight. The icy trigger touched against his finger. He could do it now, and they could finish their mission. Michael pulled the trigger.

  Nothing. Michael squeezed harder, but the trigger didn’t budge. The safety was on.

  “Son of a–” Michael sank down and pulled the gun back. The chaotic fading light behind the stone door lit his trembling fingers as he located the safety switch and moved it to the off position. He peered over the top of the wall again, but darkness swallowed them as Pastor John pushed the rotating door closed and stuffed stones into the base of the door, jamming it shut. Something slammed against the stone door and a burst of pebbles hit the floor.

  “Open this goddamn door,” the muffled voice screamed. “Open the door!”

  Pastor John moved away from the door as the man’s shrieks peaked and then fell silent. Michael squinted into the darkness, his pistol up and ready.

  “I know you’re in here,” Pastor John said. “As you can see, this place is not safe for you. It’s not a playground.”

  “Stay away from us,” Michael said.

  “Stand up and we can talk,” Pastor John said. “Nobody here needs to die.”

  Michael switched on his flashlight. Pastor John spun his head away and threw off the night vision goggles as he positioned himself near Rebecca and Joey with the assault rifle aimed at their faces. Michael’s hands shook. He was a good shot, but if he missed they’d be dead.

  “Stop,” Michael called out and stepped forward with his hands up. Rebecca and Joey pushed themselves further back behind the pillar. “Don’t hurt them.”

  Pastor John swung the rifle toward Michael. “Bring your backpack over here,” he said.

  Michael’s muscles ached as he stood up and dropped his backpack halfway between himself and Pastor John. It thudded against the stone floor.

  “Now, go stand with them.” Pastor John gestured toward Rebecca and Joey, keeping his rifle aimed at them. “I see what you have in there, Michael.”

  Pastor John’s clothes were torn, and blood streaked through his hair, across his night vision goggles, and down his face. Scars carved paths down his chin and neck.

  “The demons attacked you, Pastor John.” Rebecca’s mouth hung open and her eyes were wide. “You told us they only attacked sinners.”

  “I’m still alive, aren’t I? God protects me. Drop your weapons and your backpacks, my little lambs,” Pastor John commanded. “Nobody will get shot. Put them on the ground now.”

  Rebecca and Joey set down their weapons and flashlights, and Rebecca’s backpack knocked against the ground. Their flashlights flooded light across the floor and lit the center of the temple.

  “Michael,” Pastor John said, “empty the contents of your bag.”

  “Lower your rifle,” Michael said.

  Pastor John’s eyes narrowed and he grinned as he lowered his rifle. Michael leaned forward and dumped everything into a pile. Pastor John scoured the items with his flashlight. “Where is it?”

  “Where’s what?” Michael responded.

  “Where is the medallion? I know your grandfather gave it to you. I saw its light.” Pastor John lit up the canteen. Black pond residue streaked across its surface. “Dunamis. Where did you find it?”

  Michael didn’t answer.

  “We will talk about that later.” Pastor John leaned over and picked up the canteen.

  “That’s mine,” Michael said.

  “Nothing down here is yours.” Pastor John slung the canteen’s strap around his shoulder.

  Michael craned his head back toward Joey and whispered. “Turn that crank.”

  “What?” Joey said.

  “The crank.”

  Joey eyed the wooden crank and the rope tied to it. He grabbed the handle and rotated the wheel until the rope tightened like a guitar string. He grunted as he struggled to turn it further.

  Michael bent down and scooped up a pistol. “Turn it! Hurry!” He jumped back behind a stone wall near Joey. He dropped behind the stone structure and circled around to the opposite side.

  As Pastor John raised his rifle again, Rebecca lunged forward and grabbed onto the rifle’s barrel. A burst of fire lit up the room, the shot exploding into the ceiling. Rocks and dust rained down and Michael’s ears rang. Rebecca wrestled for control of the rifle.

  Joey roared as the crank turned, and the cylindrical stone covering the pit surged up two feet. It swayed like a pendulum threatening to crash back down. Joey groaned as the wheel began to rotate backwards, but he threw his weight into it and raised the stone another foot in the air.

  Pastor John clenched Rebecca’s arm and pulled her toward him. He yanked the barrel from her grasp and jabbed the end of it against her head. She stopped struggling. He backed away from Joey and dragged Rebecca with him. She battled against his grip. “Lower the rope, my friend. You’ll get us all killed.”

  “Let her go,” Michael said. He aimed the pistol at Pastor John’s head.

  Pastor John clutched Rebecca tighter.

  “You’re hurting me,” she said.

  Pastor John laughed. “Better drop that cover, Joey. You don’t want her to end up like Finn, do you?”

  Joey groaned. “Michael, this thing’s heavy.”

  A shadow moved along the edge of the pit opening. A glimmer of crimson bled from Michael’s jacket pocket. He covered the light with his elbow.

  “Drop the cover, Joey.” Pastor John inched forward. “Michael, I know where Artie is at. We can go there right now. Hand me the medallion.”

  Michael did nothing. He stared into the circular void in front of him and the hairs on his neck stood on end. Any second now, one of those creatures would shoot out of the pit. His hands trembled, and a drip of sweat flowed down his cheek despite the crisp air.

  Pastor John lost his grin. “Stop this nonsense.” He held the end of the rifle up to Rebecca’s face. “Give me the medallion! If you don’t, all of you and your family members are dead. I’ll throw her in right now!” Pastor John dragged Rebecca toward the pit. She screamed and writhed in his arms, but he held on.

  A foul smell filled the temple. Shadows rose from the pit beside Pastor John and black tentacles snaked around his waist. He spun around and fired his rifle into the hole of the pit. The deafening shots pounded Michael’s ears, and the blasts blazed across the walls. Pastor John careened sideways, but held firm to Rebecca’s arm. Tentacles crawled over his chest and brushed against her shirt. One tentacle latched onto the rifle and yanked it from his hands. The rifle knocked and scraped against the walls of the pit as it disappeared within the squirming black mass. Rebecca struggled against Pastor John’s grip on her arm as he pulled her closer to him. The creature’s head erupted like a jack-in-the-box, and its beak stretched wide open as if ready to devour him, and more limbs slinked out along the edge. Pastor John was dragged closer to the pit, and Rebecca raged as she was pulled along with him.

  Michael lunged forward, pulling the medallion from his pocket, and the red light flooded the room. The creatu
re’s flesh sizzled, and a strained cry burst from its throat as if they had sliced a dagger through its heart. The beak and head convulsed inches from Pastor John’s face.

  Michael tossed the medallion into Pastor John’s arms. “Here it is!”

  Pastor John released Rebecca to catch the medallion. His hands clasped it and the red light radiated off his wide eyes. A tentacle ripped the canteen off his shoulder and knocked it into the pit. It swung back and broke the medallion loose from his hands, sending it hurtling over the pit’s edge into the darkness. The room went dark again, except for the flashlights scattered across the floor.

  Michael pulled Rebecca away from the opening as another black arm twisted around Pastor John’s neck and flipped his body sideways along the edge of the pit. He growled and gagged, swinging his fists at the limbs enveloping him. His torso contorted, his chest and the back of his legs facing the same direction briefly, before he was hurtled around upside down and dragged into the pit. A moment later a boom echoed up through the open hole.

  “Let it go!” Michael yelled to Joey as he and Rebecca grabbed machetes and flashlights from the ground. They slashed at the arms snaking over the edge of the pit.

  Joey released the crank and the wood squealed. The stone cover lowered, but it stopped halfway and dangled in the air as more limbs slithered out.

  “Close the pit!” Michael yelled again.

  “It’s stuck.” Joey banged his fists against the wooden pulley system.

  Michael rushed over to the contraption. Joey climbed up the zigzag of wooden beams and ropes and pounded on every part of it.

  “Cut the rope.” Michael handed Joey the machete.

  Joey hacked the blade down several times before the rope snapped and sent the stone cover crashing down over the opening to the pit. Tentacles exploded across the room as the cover crushed them. Mangled flesh oozed out and flopped to the ground. Severed limbs convulsed on the ground like a hooked fish pulled from the lake. A small gap between the cover and the base, large enough for a person’s fingers to slide through, shrank as gravity squeezed every drop of blood from the creature’s veins.