by Lincoln Cole
“Young man, this is a house of God and you are disturbing these people. You need to sit down—”
Without looking, he held up his right hand and silenced the priest. He didn’t need the hand movement, as his actual control was mental, but he knew it made him look a lot more intimidating. He reached into the priest’s mind and seized control.
Wills pitted against each other, the priest didn’t stand a chance: so much for him being a bastion of strength for the Lord.
The priest froze mid-sentence, choking on the words, and the action had the desired effect. The crowed perked up immediately. Eyes went wide and people shifted in their seats, not with fear but rather confusion.
Confusion was good enough for now. Fear wouldn’t be far behind.
He lowered his hand.
“Where was I before I was so rudely interrupted? Ah, yes. Our Father. Our dear Father once served as the shepherd to this flock, until you so heinously turned against him. He was a good man, and you heathens caused him much pain and suffering with your lies. We are here to rectify that.”
He turned to Megyn and beckoned for her to step up next to him. Her eyes widened: she disliked being the focus of his attention.
That didn’t matter, though. When push came to shove, he was confident she would make the right decision. He walked down a few steps, gently took her hand, and guided her back up to the top. Then, he turned her around to face the crowd.
“These people,” he explained softly to her, “accused our Father of terrible crimes. They made up stories and lies, and those lies hurt him and damaged his credibility within the church.”
“They did?”
“Yes. They called him a molester and a philanderer. They said he preached against the bible and they turned him into an outcast. These heathens caused him no end of torment and pain. They need to be punished.”
He could feel Megyn staring at him but refused to make eye contact. Instead, he continued scanning at the crowd. Another man stood up from the third row of pews back, dirty and disheveled.
“Kid, I don’t know what the hell you’re going on about—”
Jeremy reached out and seized him mentally as well, this time not just to silence him, but rather to sit him back down. The man let out a groan and then collapsed back into the pew.
A few other churchgoers shifted in their seats and gasped, but no one else stood.
“Have you been practicing?” he asked Megyn. “What Father taught you to do … have you been practicing?”
“Yes, on Sheila, but I’ve never actually—”
“This is the moment you’ve been preparing for. Everything you have done, it has all led to this.”
“Jeremy, I don’t think—”
“Do you want to let our Father down?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then do it,” he said.
“I can’t.”
He glanced over the crowd and picked out a small woman sitting about eight rows back. Her mousy nose and cheeks made it clear she wouldn't put up much of a fight. He pointed out the woman and then turned back to Megyn.
“Her.”
He reached out and seized the old woman’s mind, planting the suggestion to walk up to the front of the church. She resisted, and he could feel her mentally screaming out for help, but he easily subdued her.
The woman stood up slowly from the pew and walked up the center aisle. Her blank face belied the internal struggle. She came to stop in front of them, about five feet away at the bottom of the stairs.
“Her first,” he reiterated. “Just do what Father taught you.”
“I don’t—”
He shot a glare at Megyn, getting frustrated. He almost reached out to her mind to force her to do it.
Almost.
First, Leopold had made him swear to never use his abilities against the other children. They were his family, his brothers and sisters, and they were never to betray one another no matter what happened. That family included Megyn and he took the promise seriously.
Secondly, though, he had already tried before.
A few years earlier, before Megyn had been stationed out here in Ohio and when they were all still living with the Bishop, he had tried to use his power to control Megyn. He had attempted to dominate her with his mental abilities, figuring she would be a push over and he could make her do embarrassing things.
She wasn’t a pushover. His abilities had almost no effect on her except to piss her off. She had broken both of his arms and his nose with her telekinetic abilities before Leopold had finally subdued her. Jeremy was in the hospital for weeks.
She had forgotten about that incident, but he never had.
“We need to do this. These people were cruel to our Father. Do you want to let them get away with it?”
Never mind that no one in this room had ever known the Bishop, though. Jeremy decided to keep that part to himself. Leopold’s service here was brief and before many of these parishioner’s time.
A handful might know him, if only by reputation, but that didn’t matter. It was their families and friends who had hurt him, which made them guilty by association.
“Do what our father taught you to do, or I’ll do something worse.”
Megyn cowered against his glare, and he knew from the look in her eyes that he’d won. She turned back to face the old woman, lifting up her hand, and then she made a clenching motion.
It happened slowly, and at first he couldn’t tell if Megyn was doing anything or not. Then, he heard the old woman start choking. She clutched at her throat, pulling at invisible fingers that weren’t there. Her eyes popped open in terror as she realized what was happening and she struggled, stumbling backwards against one of the pews.
Jeremy battered away her feeble attempts to free herself from his mental grip and watched in satisfaction as the life fled from her eyes.
The rest of the room erupted in panic as people rushed for the exits. They began screaming and shouting at one another and trying to get away.
Megyn waved her other hand in the air, and all of the doors slammed shut. Another motion and she knocked the running people to the ground. Jeremy watched in satisfaction, impressed as always by the sheer raw power Megyn possessed.
She kept her focus squarely on the old woman in the center of the aisle, eyes narrowed.
Suddenly, the old woman sucked in a rasping and ragged breath or air, collapsing to her knees and clutching her throat. She sucked in another breath and coughed.
“What’s going on?” Jeremy asked. “What’s happening?”
“I can’t do it,” Megyn replied, a tear streaming down her cheeks. “That is where I always stopped with Sheila and I … I can’t go any farther.”
“What? What do you mean you can’t do it?”
She turned to face him, a pleading look in her eyes. “I can’t do this, Jeremy. Please, don’t make me. I don’t want to hurt her.”
He felt anger building in the pit of his stomach. “Are you joking? After what they did to our Father, you can’t punish them? You are weak, Megyn. You never loved him. You never loved the man who took you in and protected you, did you?”
“Don’t say that!”
“It’s true, though, isn’t it? Your heart was never really in this. After everything he did for you, this is how you repay him? Weak and ungrateful child.”
“Jeremy—”
“I told him we shouldn’t trust you but he didn’t believe me. He saw something in you, and here you are letting him down. But, no matter. I can take care of things if you won’t, because I actually loved our father.”
“Don’t—”
“But, I told you that if you couldn’t do it, it would be worse for them,” he said. “This was your responsibility, but if you can’t handle it, then I have to, and now it will be much worse. Just remember: this was your fault.”
He turned back to the priest, still stuck in his mental grip. The weak willed man was simple to control, and Jeremy had to admit that the power he held ov
er the priest felt good. He could feel the man flailing and crying out in his mind, though outwardly he seemed perfectly calm and relaxed.
He would have been the perfect vessel for a demon, one that Jeremy could easily fill with one of his soldiers. The demons weren’t ready, though, and he was still missing crucial components for the summoning rituals. Right now, however, he just needed an example for Megyn.
He saw an oil lamp and a lighter lying on a table in the corner of the church. It seemed to be about half full with liquid
He grinned.
“There,” he said, pointing at the table. The verbal command wasn’t necessary, but he knew he had an audience.
The priest strode over to the corner of the room and stood next to the table.
“Pick up the oil.”
“Jeremy, what are you doing?” Megyn whispered.
He ignored her. The priest did as he said, lifting the lamp off the table.
“Unscrew the lid and pour it over yourself.”
“Stop this,” Megyn pleaded, grabbing his arm. He shook her loose and had eyes only for the priest. The man fought back harder now, a sudden burst of willpower as he realized what was happening …
As well as what was about to happen.
Jeremy struggled mentally to subdue him. It was harder this time around, and he felt a headache building in the back of his mind from extended use of his abilities. He fought the pain away: it would be over soon.
“Pick up the lighter and ignite it. Careful, don’t get it too close to your clothes … yet.”
The priest’s hand shook as he followed Jeremy’s command. Jeremy could feel his will breaking as the poor fool realized the futility of what he was doing. Jeremy was too strong, too practiced, and it was almost done.
The priest flicked the lighter, holding the flame away from his oil soaked clothing. Jeremy took a moment to savor it: the priest wasn’t very old, in his late twenties probably, with dark hair and skinny features. Terror and understanding filled his eyes, but he was helpless to stop it.
“Jeremy … please … please don’t do this,” Megyn whispered.
“You wanted this,” Jeremy replied. “You had one responsibility, and you couldn’t even do that.”
“I’ll do it. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything you want. Please, just don’t do this.”
He turned to face Megyn. She cried, eyes full of fear. He reached out and gently took her hand between his, patting it.
He smiled at her.
“Too late.”
A final mental command and suddenly the room erupted in heat as the priest touched the lighter against his chest. Shocked screams and gasps sounded from out on the main floor of the church and more people scrambled for the exits. The locked doors held, however, so there was nowhere to go.
The flame spread slowly, climbing across the man’s clothing. Jeremy felt a flash of pain inside the priest’s mind and it broke Jeremy’s grip on him. The priest started screaming and fell to the floor, rolling across the carpet, but the oil kept burning and the fire kept spreading.
The smell, Jeremy realized, was the craziest experience of his life. It filled the church as though they were standing next to a pig roast, and the most disgusting part was that it didn’t actually smell terrible. He hadn’t eaten in a while, and he could feel his stomach rumbling.
He hadn’t expected that, and he quickly pushed the feeling away. He certainly wasn’t a cannibal, and this was vengeance and not something for him to enjoy. He was getting revenge on these people for what they did to his father, and they were only the first step in getting redemption for everything that had happened to his father.
Megyn was shaking as she watched the priest burn on the floor. The rest of the people in the Church watched in horror as well, barely moving.
It only lasted a few moments before the fire burned itself out and the priest went still, smoldering on the carpet. Much of the skin of his face and chest had melted.
Megyn suddenly realized Jeremy still held her hand and jerked it free.
“How could you …?”
“The rest?” he asked. “Would you like to do your job now, or should I take care of them for you, too?”
She flashed him a look full of rage and terror and he thought for a moment that she might actually attack him. He nearly winced at the prospect of her blow, but managed to keep his expression calm. This was the moment of truth, because he knew if she did attack him he wouldn’t be able to stop her.
The things she could do to him…
She didn’t strike him, though. Underneath the rage was a profound sense of confusion and fear at what he had just done. It left a weakness in her that he’d come to expect from Megyn, and he smiled in satisfaction. She wasn’t a leader, nor was she a brave soldier
She would obey, though.
“OK. I’ll do it.”
She turned to face the remaining people. Her motion seemed to jolt them back to life and they started fleeing again. Two of them banged and jerked on the front door of the church, struggling to pry it open against her mental grip. They might as well have been trying to break through a brick wall.
She held up her hand, and one of the men pounding on the door started to clutch his throat, making choking noises.
“You’re doing this for Father.”
She didn’t answer him, just continued choking the life out of the man. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she sniffled.
The man collapsed to the ground, eyes glossy, and the man next to him started grabbing at his throat as well. Jeremy watched, pleased, as that man died.
“How many?” she asked.
“All of them.”
She sobbed, turning to face the old woman she’d first begun choking. The woman cowered in the third row of pews, crying.
She began making choking noises, and a minute later it was over, too.
“Good work, sister,” Jeremy said, patting Megyn on the shoulder as she silently moved on to the next worshipper. Megyn jerked away under his touch, but that was alright. She didn’t have to like him, she just needed to do her job. “Very good.”
◆◆◆
Megyn refused to make eye contact with Jeremy after they finally vacated the church. She sat slumped in the seat and stared out the window. They waited in the car for nearly an hour while their demonic driver went inside and harvested the people Megyn had killed. This was the part Jeremy disliked the most, and the main reason he kept the demon around. Cutting on bodies was inelegant and laborious.
Megyn might not be taking things well, but Jeremy was euphoric. It was the happiest moment of his life. He’d gotten vengeance for his mentor and father figure and also exerted his dominance over Megyn.
She never would have agreed to any of this if she’d known his plan, but there was just enough pressure and provocation in the moment to turn her into an accomplice.
She couldn’t take it back now. She had killed those people. In for a penny, in for a pound, and there was no going back. She wouldn’t cause him any more trouble, and he was quite pleased to have such a powerful ally.
She might be in a funk right now, but in time she would come to see that what they had done was not only necessary, but also beautiful. They had managed to not only punish these parishioners for what they had done to Leopold, but also make use of their deaths in a meaningful way that would help them achieve their final goal. Those deaths would have meaning well beyond anything that had come before.
The driver was covered in blood when he returned to the car. He put the organs in the trunk and climbed into the front seat. The organs were in an ice chest which would be full of the important bits that Jeremy would need to summon his demons.
He’d never done the ritual alone so he prepared the harvest. He’d helped the Bishop do it many times in the past so he was confident he could make it work after a little trial and error.
As they drove away, Jeremy could still smell the burning priest and his charred flesh. Though he didn’t know if he imagined
the smell or not. He figured it was probably bits and flakes of the man that had gotten caught in his nasal cavity.
“I know you don’t like doing this and that you are afraid,” Jeremy said once they left the Church, “but today you did a great thing. Our Father would have been proud.”
Megyn fell silent for a long while, staring out the window. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks but she no longer sobbed.
They drove back toward their hideout while Jeremy tried to decide on their next move. He had the supplies, so now he just needed the vessels to bring in his demon army. Once they began attacking and people began dying the world would have no choice but to watch and—
“What did you mean when you said he ‘would have been proud’?” Megyn asked suddenly, shifting sharply in the seat to face him. “You said he would have been, not that he is or will be?”
Jeremy waved his hand in the air, dismissing her concern. “I just meant if he was here right now.”
“No, you didn’t. Back at the church when you were giving your little speech, you said he was a good man. Not that he is a good man, but that he was. What happened? Where is our Father?”
“He’s overseas planning—”
“Don’t lie to me,” Megyn interrupted, grabbing his arm. “Stop lying to me, Jeremy. What happened?”
He took a steadying breath, cursing himself at the slip. He thought to lie to her again, but he knew that in this tender moment he needed to be careful.
“He is dead. They murdered him.”
Her eyes went wide. “Who?”
“A priest and his lackey. They found us when we were leaving the country and they killed our Father. That’s why I came here, so we could continue his legacy and finish what he started.”
Megyn took a moment to mentally process what he was saying. “No, no, that can’t…”
She trailed off, her face contorting. Jeremy leaned over and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to his chest. She struggled a tiny bit, but then she embraced him back and cried onto his shoulder.
“There, there, little sister. It’s OK. It will all be OK.”
She cried on his shoulder, squeezing him tightly, and he could feel her tears running down his arm.