Illusions of Evil (Illusions Series Book 1)

by Lily White

  We made it inside the building just before the skies opened with pouring rain. Lightning flashed in the distance, its brilliance echoing through the large stained glass windows behind the pulpit.

  "Where do you want her?" Richard asked, ignoring the way Eunice cried.

  "Doesn't matter much to me," I glanced back and winked. "I've been in rectory all day, remember?"

  Richard grinned. "This pew will do."

  Shoving a large hand on the small woman's shoulder, he forced her into a seat. Not one to waste time, he reached behind his body to pull a hunting knife from the sheath tucked into the waistband of his pants.

  Eunice found what fight remained inside her when light flashed off the gleam of the large blade. Taking a place in front of her, but far enough that the spurt of arterial spray wouldn't touch my clothes, I locked my eyes to her face. It was too bad what fight she had left wasn't enough to get away from Richard.

  "Any last words?"

  Her red rimmed eyes looked up at me, pleading for me to step in and do something.

  My lip twitched with humor. "Did you need me to give you Last Rites?"

  "You're not a priest, you bastard!"

  My grin tilted higher. "That's too bad, my dear, because you're no longer alive."

  The knife slid easily across her throat, blood spurting from the artery as air gurgled up her trachea. Richard stepped back to avoid the puddle forming on the seat of the pew and the floor. The strong son of a bitch had damn near decapitated her.

  Her head fell back and I could see the bones of her spine pushing out, the muscle beneath like meat shredded across the bone. It was too bad she had to die, Richard had thoroughly enjoyed her.

  Once she was good and dead and her body no longer twitched against the seat, I lifted my eyes to the man that stood above her.

  "You should make yourself scarce, Richard. The police will be here in an hour from when I call them. Take the woods back to the compound and keep an eye on Eve. Let the family know I'll be staying here for a while."

  He nodded his head before slowly lumbering out of the sanctuary. I listened as the large door swung open and closed, the wind slamming it hard against the wood frame.

  Biding my time, I took a tour of my kingdom, the parish that would be the center of our holy war. After an hour passed, I walked the halls of the small building. Once in Jacob's former office, I seated myself in his chair, kicked my feet up onto the surface of the desk and lifted the phone's receiver from its cradle.

  My voice sounded terrified despite that fact that I didn't care.

  "Hello, yes, this is Father Hayle at Our Lady of Serenity. You need to get down here fast. I found a body in the sanctuary."

  It only took a half hour to hear sirens blazing down the road.

  ELIJAH

  (Two weeks later)

  Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction. – Blaise Pascal

  The procession into Sunday Mass was a heavy hearted affair. The parishioners were weighed down by the crimes committed in their city, their faces angling this way and that to look upon the new members who had attended Mass for the first time today.

  An air of distrust lingered like a thick cloud as the pomp and circumstance was carried out, as the hymns were sung and as the scripture verses were read. I watched from the pulpit, noticed how people had chosen seats to avoid being close to the confessional where Annabelle had blown herself away, or the center pew where Sister Eunice's body had been found.

  Keeping my expression neutral, I cast a glance at Eve where she sat quietly off to the side of the church, her eyes gazing up at the stained glass windows behind me. Rather than the navy blue dresses the women normally wore, they dressed in ordinary outfits to blend in with the townsfolk.

  The last scripture was read and it was time for the homily. I had the weight of their burdens fastened securely to my shoulders. It was my intent to ease their frustrations, to quiet the murmurs that God had forgotten them.

  "Today's homily won't be my standard message. Not with the pain we've suffered recently. Not with the losses that have shocked our small town."

  Lifting my gaze to the congregation I took a moment to make eye contact with the few people who stared ahead. Most had their heads bowed in contemplation.

  "As you all know, we've experienced loss. Crimes have been committed that go against the will of God. We've been infected by evil, and I'm sure your hearts are as battered as mine."

  Murmurs erupted across the sanctuary. Many nodded their heads in agreement, but a few men lifted their eyes that were narrowed in anger. They took pride in their town, in their homes, and the life they'd built here. They worried how they would protect their families from the tragedies that had befallen the parish.

  They were ripe for the picking.

  "I'd offer you kind platitudes if I felt that would ease your struggles, but as we all have seen, the tragedy grows worse despite our prayers. Evil has infected our world, and regardless of the devout lives we lead, regardless of our unshakeable faith in the power of the Almighty, that same evil has come upon us to take our young, to destroy our Sisters, to plague us while the demons laugh and carry on."

  I paused and cleared my throat before lifting the volume of my voice higher. It echoed against the ceiling and walls with the spirit of my message.

  "It would please my weary heart if, rather than offering an empty message and unanswered prayer, you will allow me to make a suggestion."

  That got their attention. Not so much the women, but the men. They were desperate for any idea that would help them keep their families safe and make it possible to provide for the needs of their wives and children.

  A smile tipped my lips as I stepped out from behind the pulpit and rounded the dark wood to lean against the front. Their silence was a heavy blanket stuffed full with anticipation. I let that silence punctuate my next statement.

  Spoken clearly, my voice low and unhurried, I lifted my gaze to the congregation and said, "We need to take our town back."

  The men made sounds of approval, their shoulders rolling back as their chests puffed out proudly. I saw the hope that lit their eyes and the glory they felt to hear a solution that, until now, had been denied to them.

  "I want to introduce you all to the new people we've brought into the parish." Motioning with my hands, I directed the congregation's attention to my family members lining the side walls.

  On cue they stepped closer, allowing the people of the town to see them fully, to witness the determination shining in their eyes.

  "Like you, these people have suffered. They've seen their daughters dragged into sin, their sons lost to crime, their families destroyed by the demons that plague us all. And they're done with sitting idly by waiting for the salvation that Christ has promised us."

  More murmurs erupted, the women now raising their eyes to look upon the others that were mirror images of them.

  "The Bible said it clearly folks, the book told us what to expect at the end of times. It was said that the last days would be difficult times. That people would only love themselves and their money. That they would be boastful and proud. They would scoff at God and the children would disobey their parents like our beloved Annabelle."

  A woman sniffled from the middle row, a man who had only looked at me with rage behind his eyes now easing his anger while putting an arm around his wife's shoulders. No doubt they were Annabelle's parents.

  "It was said that people would reject God for the love of pleasure. That they would be puffed up and act like they were religious, but in truth they would reject the power that would make them godly."

  A bark of humorless laughter flew from my lips. "Well, you know what I think about that? I think it's time we accept that power. I think it's time that we remember that we are God's people. And I think it's time we gather together to eradicate the sinners of this world, and we take back everything that has been stolen from us."

  Pushing off
from the pulpit, I walked to stand behind the altar.

  My voice swelled with strength, the volume increasing until I was practically shouting. "I say that while taking the blood and body of Christ inside our bodies, that we remember who dwells inside us all and we use that strength to assemble God's army. I say we seek out the filthy demons that plague this world, and that we drag them back here to answer for their crimes! Our God is not a pushover. He’s not a being that sits by and lets evil infect his world. He needs an army of those who believe in him to fight all the demons sent by Satan!”

  Calming down, I breathed heavily, fighting the smile that pulled at my lips. My voice was far darker when I spoke my final lines. “If blood needs to be spilled, so be it. Because we, like the God that created us, the God that created us in HIS image, won’t let our lives fall into the hands of the wicked!”

  The men pushed to their feet, the women eventually standing beside them. They hollered and they whistled, they yelled and bellowed about how it was time. And as easy as it had been to create chaos in a rural, Appalachian town, I'd just convinced their people that violence was the only answer.

  "This is just the beginning, folks. And by the end, the demons will have been run completely out of our town."

  More shouts of approval, their hands coming together in applause of an answer they didn't know they were seeking.

  A smile stretched my lips to see the fruits of my labors finally coming to fruition.

  "I'll close the homily. We'll take Eucharist inside our bodies, and tomorrow we will assemble again to plan our holy war."

  More applause boomed as I blessed the offering. And as they lined up to accept the body and blood of Christ, I looked into their gazes to see the insanity settling in.

  Through their hands and numbers I would begin the chaos and slaughter.

  Within an hour's time, those people returned to their homes, newfound pride the strength in their shoulders. The family left the parish to return to the compound save for one.

  I stood by the pulpit and stared down at a woman who remained standing in the middle of the nave patiently awaiting my instructions.

  Now that we were alone, I forced my voice into a soothing tone to talk to her.

  "Have you missed me, my love?"

  Eve's gaze traveled up to lock with mine, tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks. "Yes. I’ve missed you…and your sermons."

  "I've missed you, too. I have one more matter to attend to before I can relieve you of the sin I know has built up inside you. I want you to run along to my room and wait for me on the bed."

  Without question, she turned and disappeared down the long hallway that led to the rectory door.

  Taking my time, I looked over the parish that would be the stage for my slaughter. I took in every pew, every corner, every relic and religious item. Satisfaction was the ember that sparked the flames of my scorching fire.

  It would take time to acclimate the townspeople to violence, but it was fortunate that all I had was time.

  Turning, I raised my gaze to the crucifix that hung over the stained glass windows and I raised my arms to my sides like the victor I was.

  Laughter boomed from my chest and power flowed through me to know I'd succeeded. And with my eyes trained to the cross that in truth, had no meaning, I lifted my voice one final time.

  Humor was the edge to my tone. My mirth a vibration through every word I spoke.

  With a smile tilting my lips, I raised my arms even higher.

  "Fuck off, God. This is my church now."

  THE END

  BOOK TWO, FEAR THE WICKED, WILL RELEASE SOON. KEEP READING FOR A SNEAK PREVIEW.

  SNEAK PREVIEW: FEAR THE WICKED

  ELIJAH

  It would take some finesse on my part to bend the morality of the citizens of the small town I’d inherited.

  Every Sunday they showed up faithfully. And every Sunday I eased them into the violence I knew laid just beneath their skin. It was right there, an electric current waiting for the right outlet to be expressed. Time would pull them all into my mind, would set them on the path of salvation that the family had already begun to walk.

  Most were readily pliant, others more difficult. My twin brother, Jacob, had done an impressive job losing the trust of his parishioners. During the week he went mad, he was rude to them, he'd distanced himself from them and he'd insulted them.

  Especially the father of Annabelle Prete.

  Just thinking about that poor girl had my shoulders shaking with soft laughter against the cheap, secretarial chair in Jacob’s prior office.

  Richard walked in and I tracked his short journey across the room, my eyes meeting his when he dropped his weight into a chair facing my desk. I pulled the clerical collar from my neck and threw it on the wood surface.

  "How much longer, boss? The family is getting antsy."

  "A few minutes at most. Eve is ready. The martyr that she is." More soft laughter was a vibration over my chest.

  Grinning, Richard glanced over my shoulder toward the window at my back. "Joshua may have an issue with the example being made of his sister."

  "Joshua knows," I explained, little concern in my voice for how the family members would react to the show.

  Three months wasn't a long time in the grand scheme of things, but it was enough time to isolate the town. With the small farms and bevy of blue collar talents, it wasn't difficult to become a community without much need of outside assistance.

  In response to my sermons, the citizens had slowly closed themselves off, had turned away from the televisions and internet, had burned whatever cultural items their children had acquired in an effort to blend in with the youth of the larger cities hundreds of miles outside our borders.

  Isolation was key and to accomplish that, I'd spoken to the Diocese regarding the threat against the Mother and remaining Sisters at the convent following the discovery of Sister Joyce’s body. There wasn't much left of her. It appeared she'd been abducted by the same psychopath that stole Eunice from the convent's doors, but rather than returning her to the Church, he must have left her to the wild animals along the lonely dirt road where she was discovered.

  A smile had stretched my lips during that particular phone call, but fortunately they could only hear the feigned regret and sorrow in my voice.

  The Diocese agreed that the remaining nuns should be removed to another convent far from our sleepy mountain, at least until the killer was caught. They’d left me in charge of the small congregation, alone and unsupervised, and then thanked me for the foresight to see to the nuns' safety.

  Oh, yes, Father Hayle, you are so wise...

  I'd laughed at the compliment. They were nothing but slack-jaws, all of them.

  Richard's meaty hand ran through his brown hair. Shoulder length, it framed the parts of his face that his thick, long beard didn't hide. With broad shoulders and a rotund stomach bulging over the large buckle of his belt, Richard leaned back in his chair, kicked his legs out and crossed them at the ankles.

  Unlike him, I was the sleek rural priest with black hair and blue eyes, shoulders as broad as Richards, but a stature standing a few inches taller. Built to seduce, my body was a weapon of deception as opposed to Richard's brute strength.

  It was no surprise to me that the younger female parishioners - those girls that had come to an age where childhood was far behind - batted their eyes when I looked in their direction. In truth they were flirting with Jacob, not realizing I'd taken his place.

  "Five minutes," Richard finally said, his voice as gruff as his appearance. "You should get in your robe and get out there." He paused, considering. "Not many people showed up from town."

  "I didn't invite many," I explained as I pushed to my feet, grabbing my clerical collar to set it back in place. "And the cassock won't be necessary. This isn't Mass or anything formal, just a gathering of the family and the men from town that I think will be ready for this little treat. Once we have them convinced that it's n
ormal, they'll help convince the other men. Once we have the men, we'll have the women, and once we have the women, we'll have the town.” I winked at him. “Baby steps, Richard."

  Nodding, he smiled and stood to walk with me into the hall, our booted steps against the ground heavy and in no hurry.

  Turning the corner, we looked across the nave toward the sanctuary. Eve sat in a single, small chair to the left of the pulpit. Covered by a hooded black robe, she angled her head down so that you couldn't see her face.

  Silent. Motionless. Both fearful and excited, Eve proved her worth to me every single day.

  Anticipation was the tension across our shoulders.

  "You think she'll scream?" Richard asked, a touch of humor in his question, his eyes darting between Eve and me.

  My lips curled at the corners, desire crawling inside me as electric sparks beneath the skin.

  "I know she will," I answered, "in both pain and perverse pleasure. And I can promise you, Richard, there is no other music like it."

  EVE

  But if I cast out demons by the Spirit of God, then the Kingdom of God has come upon you. Matthew 12:28

  The ceremony would begin in a few minutes.

  I listened to the people who gathered, felt compelled to peek out from beneath the hood just to know who would stand in attendance of the first true cleansing. But no matter how badly I wanted to know who would stand in witness, I kept my head bowed and out of sight, just as I'd been instructed.

  Elijah warned me that it would hurt. Not as bad as the brand I wore on my shoulder, but more than what he did to me in bed. Yet, I didn't fear what was coming. Only because I knew that what would follow would be a release of pressure like I'd never known.

  Wickedness is only relieved with pain. And pain is a balm to the sinner's soul. It flays you open, settles inside, and shreds you until there is nothing left.