He heard Whitney yell from her house and he turned to look at her, flashing a thumbs down.
“Hi Doug.” Mindy smiled blissfully.
“Hi... uh, Mindy.”
The back door opened and Doug felt something sting him on the neck. He tried to swat it away but it was already gone.
Or that spot was numb. He didn’t even feel his hand make contact with his neck.
Or his neck was numb.
His whole body felt numb.
He tried to ask Mindy if she had seen what it was that had bitten him but his mouth wouldn’t work. He didn’t even have the chance to think something really bad was happening to him before he plummeted into unconsciousness.
Sixty-four
Officer Viled kept his hand up Amanda’s skirt on the ride to the Church. More specifically, he kept his fingers in her vagina. Plunging in and out until she worked up some come and then smelling his fingers.
It was only about a ten minute ride but, halfway there, he pulled the car off the road. He told her to get out of the car and down on all fours. He grabbed some lube from the glove compartment. He dropped to his knees behind her, unfastened his pants, hiked up her skirt, tugged down her damp underwear and plunged into her. He opened the lube and coated his right hand with it. Slowly, he worked his fingers into Amanda’s ass before eventually making a fist and sliding his arm in to mid-forearm.
Amanda bucked against him. She’d never felt anything like this. She loved it.
They continued well after sundown. Amanda could see the lights crawling over them from other cars on their way to the Church, to the ceremony. She liked this too. She didn’t know how many people in the cars were actually able to see them. She hoped it was a lot. She wanted them to see her down on all fours like a dog, a practical stranger’s arm up her ass while she drooled with pleasure into the gravel on the side of the road. She wanted the men to fantasize about being the one pounding into her. She wanted the women to pretend to be her—away from their homes, away from their husbands and children with nothing but the pain, pleasure, and lingering humiliation of this act.
Because in a very short while, she would be standing in front of them and telling them what she had seen.
She would tell them about the Beast, about their Lord. And she would tell them about the Becoming. She would tell them about how everything Pastor Don had promised them was true.
And then the true face of the Beast would be revealed and they would all witness it together.
She saw this in a revelatory flash as an orgasm slammed through her body, her sphincter restricting on Viled’s arm until he pulled it out with a wet slurp.
She’d seen the Beast’s true face.
And it was up to her to bring this person forward.
To drink and bathe in the blood of the virgin.
Sixty-five
Crank signaled to Patrick Crayze to launch into their final number and then realized he couldn’t see him so he played the opening chords. Patrick Crayze didn’t immediately kick in with the drums which could have meant his ear drums were completely blown and he hadn’t heard him or he was too high and drunk and couldn’t figure out what Crank was playing yet or he’d remembered what he was supposed to do and was at this very moment dousing a thousand plus Duraflames with gasoline.
A few seconds later a hellish blaze erupted behind Crank. The heat was tremendous. In the glow he saw more faces in front of him than he’d ever seen at a show. There must have been a hundred.
And they all looked completely terrified.
Crank dropped the guitar and leapt off the truck, carried with the herd of panicked, screaming teenagers as the flames jetted toward the mouth of the cave.
Patrick Crayze was killed instantly and was pretty sure he’d seen God.
Lurk had actually been dead for the past hour so he didn’t feel the heat explode the blood in his veins and curl his skin inward.
Any of the audience members who had stumbled on their way out of the cave, if not already trampled to death, were burned alive.
Not entirely aware of the seriousness of the situation, Crank raised his hand into a fist and shouted, “White trash pyrotechnics! Chainsaw Enema forever!”
A lot of other people, unaware that Chainsaw Enema no longer existed, took up the chant along with other assorted yelps and hoots.
And then there was the crazy girl on the bike with the cross and it just kept being the best night ever.
Sixty-six
Luckily the Ark Sakura was in the hollow so it was a mostly downhill coast from Whitney’s. She managed to make it almost all the way there before dark. She didn’t think she would be riding the bike anywhere else tonight. Despite the nearly full moon, the hollow would still be pitch black.
She wasn’t exactly sure where it was until she saw a jet of fire shoot up into the air.
The fact that Crank was a huge fucking idiot again reinforced itself to her.
She followed the jet of fire and the frantic screams.
When she finally came upon the opening to the Ark, she was amazed at the amount of people gathering around what had become the biggest bonfire she’d ever seen. She wasn’t sure if it had blown the top of the cave off, escaped through an opening, or simply spread with such intensity that the woods on all surrounding sides of the cave were burning.
It was that wild energy in the air. That was the only thing she could think to explain this amount of people attending one of Crank’s shows. She needed to find a way to harness that energy. She had to think fast.
She stayed on the bike and hoisted the cross up high and upside down with her right hand.
Sixty-seven
Crank looked at the girl on the bike and it took him a few seconds to realize it was Whitney. The bright intensity of the fire made the dark that much darker.
She pulled her bike to a stop and lifted that crazy urn Doug always thought held his father. She bellowed, “Listen up! Don’t let this moment pass us by! The Church is full of everything that makes this place awful! Let’s storm it! Let’s storm the Church!”
Maybe it was just the excitement of everything that had been happening, but Crank felt something as close to love as he’d ever felt before.
He raised both fists above his head and shouted, “Let’s do what she said! Let’s storm the fucking Church!”
Crank thought that sounded way beyond arena rock. He thought it sounded totally black metal.
Whitney hopped off the bike, continuing to brandish the cross. Crank didn’t know if it was due to the intense heat of their surroundings or if he’d actually begun hallucinating from all the pills, but it looked like the cross was glowing orange.
The group left en masse with Whitney and Crank in the lead. Behind them the forest burned.
Sixty-eight
By the time Amanda and Viled reached the Church, it was already packed. They opened the doors and everyone turned to look at them. Viled whispered seductively into her ear that he was going to the restroom to “wash all the shit off his hand.”
She was surprised to see Pastor Don beaming down at her from the pulpit. A boy lay on his back, seemingly unconscious, on the altar in front of it. She thought it was the Backus kid.
“Amanda,” Pastor Don said.
She was too overwhelmed to speak. She could only blush and smile broadly.
“Our witness has returned. Now we may begin.”
Amanda started trying to find an empty space in the pews but Pastor Don stopped her.
“We wouldn’t dream of having our witness sit amongst the masses! You’ll come and stand next to me. Your time to speak is near at hand.”
Amanda loved Pastor Don’s way with words. Sometimes the things he said sounded like they came right out of the Bible. She practically floated to the front of the Church.
“That’s it! Don’t be nervous!”
She ascended the two steps and stood next to Pastor Don. He reached out and gave her a playful smack on the ass. Amanda was afraid the im
pact would make something dribble out.
She looked out at the congregation. She wasn’t in any state to fully dwell on it but she’d never really given a thought to Clover’s peculiar demographic until now. There were probably 300 people in the congregation. She saw only three men, one of whom was the unconscious one on the altar. Five altogether if you counted Pastor Larsta and Officer Viled, who still hadn’t returned from the restrooms.
“Dear flock,” Pastor Don began. “We are at the end of an eighteen year journey. Glory glory. Yet, we are at the beginning of an eternal one.”
Amanda noticed the initiates in the front row, staring toward them with a combination of rapture and hunger.
“Before me lay young Doug Backus. But as we enter the depth of the summer solstice, he will cease to become Doug Backus. What he will become is a vessel of life. A vessel that we must drink from.”
There was a smattering of applause.
“But he’s not just a vessel. He’s also a key. His blood, the purest blood born at the exact right time, will transform our Lord permanently. Our Lord has hungers, he has needs, and in order to lead us, in order to make us as powerful as him, he must be transformed. No more will the innocents fall victim to his ravenous powers. From this day forward we will go out into the world, we will convert the nonbelievers. They will see the power of our Lord and they will welcome this transformation... Or they will die.”
The congregation held its applause but most of them smiled broadly.
“To carry our word to the rest of the world, our initiates have been preparing diligently. Please stand.”
Mindy, Angie, and Kristen all stood.
Pastor Don announced their names and said, “Our witness has watched over their diligent preparations, as well.”
Pastor Don performed a combination pat and caress on her ass and Amanda, thinking she was supposed to say something, yelled, “And the blood did flow!”
Now the congregation laughed and applauded softly.
“Well, we know why you all came here this evening so I won’t draw the suspense out any longer. You all want to know who the Great Beast is!”
Now they clapped wildly.
“You all want to know who your leader is!”
Continued clapping, whistles and hoots.
“Our witness is here to tell you!”
Lengthy applause slowly dying down to complete silence.
“Amanda? Who amongst the congregation has been silently leading us this entire time? Who amongst us has grown restless and hungry?”
Amanda searched the congregation. She didn’t know. She didn’t know who it was supposed to be. Officer Viled’s name popped into her head but that didn’t seem right either. Pastor Don’s name was there, too, but that seemed to... obvious, maybe.
“Who will help us turn the corner into paradise? Glory glory. Who will give birth to hell as they did a child without a mate!”
Amanda continued to scan the crowd. She needed to say a name. She needed to rely on her faith. If she truly had faith and she truly was the chosen witness, then whatever answer she gave would be correct, wouldn’t it?
The name popped into her head and she shouted, “Martha Backus!”
At the sound of her name, the burly woman rose from the second pew and came forward.
Amanda knew from the overwhelming response that she had chosen correctly. When she looked over at Pastor Don, he beamed at her.
“Glory glory!” he shouted.
“Glory glory!” she shouted back.
“Glory glory!” Martha Backus shouted.
Pastor Don reached into the pulpit and pulled out a large curved knife. It looked like the same one she had seen the initiates use in the Tabernacle. He held the blade and brandished the haft of the knife toward her. Amanda took the knife and was immediately ready to pounce on Doug Backus, slice his throat open, dance around in his blood.
“Glory glory,” Pastor Don said. “Get a feel for that knife and, at the stroke of midnight, when the time comes, you will do the job. You will be the maker of the ultimate sacrifice.” He held his hand back out for the knife. “Until then we will witness the transformation and celebrate the initiates’ graduation from the Tabernacle.” With his free hand he delicately grabbed her chin. “You remember how we celebrate, don’t ya, honey?”
Now she was virtually ecstatic. “Oh, yes, I’ve been celebrating for days.” The congregation laughed and applauded.
Pastor Don descended the steps and kneeled in front of the altar. He carved an upside down cross on Doug’s forehead and dipped each of his fingertips into the blood before pressing his palm onto Doug’s forehead. He stood up and held his red right hand toward the congregation.
“Behold!” he shouted.
Now Martha Backus was in front of him in what Amanda thought was almost a sex position. Pastor Don pressed his bloody palm to her forehead and everyone watched the transformation.
Martha stood. Her body became even larger. Horns sprouted from her head. Her mouth filled with teeth. Her clothes fell away in tatters. A tail dangled at the back of her legs. An enormous penis dangled from the front.
“And now ladies of the congregation, come forth and accept the blood of the sacrifice and the seed of the Beast. Be one with the Church of the New Covenant!”
The congregation erupted into the same frenzied sexual activity she remembered from before. The difference this time was the steady line of females coming forth to lie on Doug while the Beast serviced them, straining their vaginas, filling them with semen to the point that it spilled out on the sacrifice until he was covered in blood and semen.
They fucked frantically toward midnight.
Sixty-nine
Whitney liked the feeling of being followed by a group of drunken teenagers who would do anything she told them to. They were all covered in sweat and they smelled like fire.
“Is it midnight yet?” Whitney asked Crank.
“I don’t know. I don’t have a watch.”
“Maybe your phone?”
“Really?” He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the glowing 11:42 on it and said, “Hm.”
“There’s still time.”
She could see the Church in front of them. The parking lot was filled with cars. They bled out onto the street. Whitney thought they’d be able to just walk in. She didn’t think churches locked their doors provided there was anyone in there. Still holding the cross in her right hand, she pulled on the door handle with her left.
Locked.
That only reaffirmed her belief they were doing something nefarious in there. At a temporary loss for what to do, she knocked on the door. She heard voices from inside but no one answered.
She took the cross in both hands and began hammering it against the door.
She sensed Crank and the others becoming restless.
“Um... what should we do?” Crank asked.
“I don’t know... Bust out some windows. Trash some cars. Set stuff on fire!”
It was like letting loose a pack of wild dogs. Windows immediately shattered. The church van exploded, shooting at least ten feet into the air before coming down in a blackened, smoldering heap.
Once the chaos was in full swing, the church doors opened.
Whitney now stood face to face with Deacon Pork. Before he punched her in the face, she had the chance to look past him and into the Church. She wasn’t exactly sure what she expected to see but people fucking everywhere was certainly not it. But then again, in a town that encourages its girls to fuck a monster, she probably shouldn’t have been that surprised. The fist hit her before she could locate Doug. There was the pop of her nose that immediately began running blood and swelling to the size of a sausage and a bright flash from the middle of her head, but she didn’t go down. Instead, she rocked back with the cross and drove it into Deacon Pork’s head.
His head exploded in blood and brain matter.
That probably shouldn’t have happened.
Rather than st
opping to think about it, she continued to charge forward.
The other people at Crank’s show were now coming in through the windows. Many of them seemed confused, took off their clothes, and joined in.
Then, at the front of the Church, Whitney saw it.
Or her.
Or... him.
The Beast.
The one she had tracked to Doug’s house so long ago.
Doug’s mother.
Mrs. Backus.
The one who her own mother had wanted Whitney to couple with upon entering high school. Whitney had refused and been removed from the town. Sent to the nearest psychiatric facility. But they couldn’t keep her there once she turned eighteen. So she’d come home to find her mother dead on the couch. That was good, in a way. It allowed Whitney to convince herself that her mother did love her, that she would have gotten her out of the hospital sooner if she’d been alive.
“You!”
It was that whore Mindy. Another one of the chosen. One who’d either said yes to the degradation of the Beast or who didn’t have the spine to say no to her mother.
“Where’s Doug?” Whitney said.
Mindy, looking bald, fat, and hideous, smiled and said, “See for yourself.”
Doug lay on the altar at the front of the Church. A woman lay on top of him. The Beast thrust into the woman.
Whitney struck with the cross. It hit Mindy in the shoulder and her arm fell off, blood shooting from the newly created cavity.
“Get this bitch!” Mindy shouted.
Whitney struck with the cross again. This time it hit Mindy in the head. Her head exploded. Whitney felt a brief moment of victory before the lights in the Church went out.
There were hands all over. Some of them tried to hurt her. Some of them tried to rip her clothes off. Some of them did both. Even more frightening than the lights going out was that she could still see. The night outside the windows glowed a hellish orange. She smelled smoke coming in from the windows.
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