Invisible Terror Collection

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Invisible Terror Collection Page 3

by Bill Myers


  Even with these holes and a lack of any supporting scientifi c evidence, people still believe.

  • God is opposed to practicing astrology for many reasons:

  1. It takes away our freedom of choice. After all, “It was in the stars — what could I do?”

  2. It’s turning to sources other than God for your hope, future, and well-being.

  3. It’s a form of manipulation. Since we’re all open to suggestions if somebody or something tells us we will be doing a certain thing, we may just fi nd ourselves starting to do it.

  As far as supernatural powers, astrology is like any other superstition: It has no power unless people allow it to direct their lives. For this reason, although it is one of the silliest forms of the occult, it can still harm those who insist upon believing it.

  Z

  Scott read the final line again: “It can still harm those who insist upon believing it.” A smile slowly crept across his lips.

  “It can still harm those who insist upon believing it.” He reached over and shut off the machine.

  Somewhere in the back of his head that still, small voice was whispering, It’s wrong. Stop seeking revenge. But as he crossed back to bed and crawled under the covers, he was able to push that voice aside and replace it with another: It can harm those who insist upon believing it.

  **********

  12:10 a.m. THURSDAY

  Rebecca’s mind reeled with the new information on the little girl. Maybe Ryan was right; maybe the Bible couldn’t always be trusted. Maybe with the big picture, yes. But after all those years, maybe some of the details had been tweaked or changed.

  She slept restlessly, tossing and turning, dreaming of pretty little Mexican girls with long black hair and pleading eyes. Then she heard knocking. Reluctantly she pried open her eyes.

  Knock-knock-knock-knock.

  For the second night in a row, Becka threw off her covers, staggered into the hall, and stumbled down the steps. By the time she reached the door, the knocking had stopped. She snapped on the porch light and checked through the peephole. Nobody.

  She unlocked the door and stepped outside. The air was cold and the fog was thick, but nobody was in sight. With a sigh she stepped back in. Then, just before closing the door, she noticed a small black case on the doormat. Frowning, she bent down and picked up a videocassette. An envelope was taped to the top.

  Becka took one last look up and down the street, then closed the door. As usual she had to give it an extra push before it would shut. She fumbled to snap on the light in the entry hall, then squinted under the glaring brightness. She opened the envelope and pulled out a letter.

  Dear Rebecca,

  The alignment is less than 48 hours away. I understand your fears and doubts. But please, please remember the child desperately needs our help. This video documents research by a group of parapsychologists who investigated the house back in 1993. Please look it over and get back to me. We have so little time remaining.

  Priscilla

  Becka stared at the letter, feeling a chill — along with her growing doubts.

  **********

  10:15 a.m.

  Scott and Darryl crossed town, entered a dilapidated two-story house that hadn’t seen paint since Columbus took up sailing, waded up a stairway covered in thousands of electronic gizmos and gadgets (not to mention empty pizza boxes), and finally entered the room where Darryl’s cousin, Hubert, worked his computer magic. To say Hubert was an eccentric hermit might be rude. To say that the guy ate, drank, slept, and breathed computers (while never bothering to shower) would at least be accurate.

  Scott and Darryl had used Hubert’s computer genius once before to track down Z. Of course, they’d failed, but that wasn’t Hubert’s fault. Hubert was good. Very good. Z was just better.

  A lot better.

  “So …” Hubert wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He didn’t bother looking up. He was too busy soldering something from the mountain of electro-junk before him. “You want this Priscilla person to pull up a bunch of bogus zodiac info on her computer in hopes that she’ll follow it, right?” He gave a loud sniff and pushed up his glasses, which looked identical to Darryl’s except for the masking tape holding them together.

  “Yeah.” Darryl gave a sniff back to him. “Can you do it?” As if to answer Darryl’s sniff, Hubert gave another sniff (it was easy to tell these two were related). “No sweat. I build you a Remote Data Acquisition Device, you break into her place, hard-wire it directly to her CPU’s database, make sure she calls up all necessary data onto her monitor, then you break back into her place, remove the R-DAD, and return it to me.” Scott and Darryl traded uneasy looks.

  Darryl cleared his throat and asked hopefully, “And then you’ll be able to make her do what we want, right?”

  “No way.” Hubert took another swipe at his nose. “Next I’ll need to rewrite her existing program, give it to you, you’ll have to break back in the place for a third time, load it into her computer, and exit without being detected.” Scott’s heart sank. “Isn’t there, you know, any easier way?”

  “Easier?” Hubert scoffed. “You want easier!?”

  “Well, yeah …”

  “You didn’t say you wanted it easy.” Hubert sighed his best why-am-I-surrounded-by-morons sigh. Then, still without looking up, he produced a single computer disk. He handed it to Scott and said, “Just stick this into her computer.” Scott and Darryl stood dumbfounded. “That’s it?”

  “Of course that’s it.” Hubert gave a louder-than-normal sniff.

  “It will provide me access to her main database and mass storage through her modem, where I can ascertain the specific astrological program and download it to my system. Most likely it will be a program from which I can surreptitiously procure the source code, which is no doubt written in language C+, thereby allowing me to reconfigure her program to produce any response you desire.”

  “Oh,” Darryl said, exchanging blank looks with Scott.

  “Of course.” Scott nodded.

  There was a long pause. Darryl and Hubert both gave loud sniffs.

  “So,” Scott asked, “how soon can we do this?”

  “Load her computer tonight, then come back here while I work on the program. By tomorrow morning, she’ll do whatever we say.” Hubert gave one loud and extremely long sniff, making it clear that their meeting was over.

  Moments later Scott and Darryl were scampering down Hubert’s rickety porch steps toward their bikes.

  “That cousin of yours sure has a brain,” Scott said.

  “Yeah,” Darryl said, drawing in a deep breath of fresh air and obviously enjoying it. “Too bad we can’t convince him to try a shower.”

  Scott grinned as he climbed on his bike. “Once he changes Priscilla’s chart, you’re sure she’ll follow it?”

  “Hey,” Darryl sniffed, “if it’s on her astrological chart, she’ll do it. I’ve listened to her talk about this stuff. Believe me, she’ll do whatever it says.”

  Scott began to smile. He liked that idea. A lot.

  They rode off. “So when do you want to do it?” Darryl asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Load this disk,” Darryl said, patting the shirt pocket that held the disk.

  “How ’bout tonight? Can you get us in?”

  “A piece of cake. What time?”

  “I don’t know. How does midnight sound?”

  “Perfect.” Darryl grinned. “The Bookshop tonight, at midnight.”

  **********

  5:48 p.m.

  Julie paused her ancient VCR, and the group stared at the freeze-frame picture on the screen. Becka had taken the videocassette over to Julie’s house, and after viewing it, they had decided to invite Ryan, Krissi, and Philip over for a “second opinion.”

  “There,” Julie said, pointing to the screen, which showed a long hallway full of doors. Several cameras and measuring devices were scattered up and down the hall. “This is where it gets interesti
ng.”

  Julie pushed the Pause button again, and the video started.

  Everyone watched in silence. For several seconds nothing happened. Then, ever so gradually, some of the papers and charts on the hallway floor began to stir.

  “Did someone open a window?” Ryan asked.

  No one answered. The wind grew more intense. Some of the instruments mounted in the hallway began to shudder. Suddenly one with aluminum cloth stretched between brackets blew over and fell with a crash.

  Krissi gave a start.

  “Hang on,” Julie said. “It’s not over yet. Keep your eye on the farthest door, the one at the end of the hall.” More seconds passed. The wind increased until suddenly the door flew open. The entire group jumped. As they watched, a small shadowy figure from inside the room darted past the doorway and out of sight.

  “What was that?” Ryan demanded.

  Julie pressed Slow Motion Rewind. The figure reappeared, moving backward. When it was in the center of the door’s opening, she pressed Pause.

  “Wow,” Philip said as he dropped to his knees and got a better look.

  “What is it?” Krissi chirped a little nervously.

  “That’s what we want to know,” Julie said. “It’s so far away and so blurry, it’s hard to tell.”

  Everyone continued staring. “It looks like a little girl,” Philip finally said. He moved closer to the screen and pointed. “See, here’s her hair, long and dark, it’s blowing all over the place, and this, this could be an arm …”

  An eerie silence stole over the group.

  Finally Ryan turned to Rebecca. “Is this who you saw in the window yesterday?”

  Becka looked at the ground.

  Ryan continued — not mean, just perplexed. “And you still don’t think it’s a ghost?”

  When Becka answered, her voice was just above a mumble.

  “I’m … I’m not sure. It looks just like the girl, but Scotty and I — ” she glanced up and held Ryan’s gaze — “we’ve been fooled before.”

  “I think we should all go there and investigate,” Philip said.

  Becka answered quietly. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  “Why not?” he insisted. “You might be in danger if you go with the Ascension Lady. I say we go ahead of time and check out the place.”

  Becka swallowed, struggling to find the right words.

  Ryan reached out and touched her shoulder. They’d had enough talks about the supernatural for Ryan to know what was on her mind. “Beck’s afraid because we’re not Chris tians. She’s afraid we might get hurt.”

  A strange sort of silence filled the room. Finally Julie spoke.

  “Is that true? Is that what you think?”

  Becka searched for the words. She didn’t want to sound high-and-mighty or judgmental to her friends, yet they deserved to hear the truth. “The Bible says there’s no such things as ghosts.

  Only demons.”

  “And angels,” Krissi interrupted, trying to sound cheery.

  “Don’t forget angels.”

  “Angels don’t go around haunting houses,” Julie corrected.

  Becka hesitated, then continued. “So, if I’m right, that little girl is not a ghost, but … a demon.”

  Philip asked the next question. “And you’re worried about us, because … ?”

  Here it comes, Becka thought. There’s no getting around it.

  “Because Jesus gave those who believe in him authority over demons.” There — she’d said it. She took a breath and waited.

  “And the rest of us?” Philip persisted.

  “I …” Becka looked down. “I’m not sure of the details.” After a moment, Krissi blurted, “Hey, I’m a Chris tian.” The group turned to her in vague surprise. “Sure, I go to church every Christmas, sometimes Easter too.”

  Everyone chuckled. “I think there’s more to it than just that,” Ryan said kindly. “From what I’ve been reading in the Bible, it’s not just a church thing; it’s what you believe inside … and what you do with it.”

  Becka looked at Ryan. He gave her a wink.

  “I say we investigate anyway,” Philip insisted. “Take our chances.”

  “And if we’re wrong?” Julie asked with an arched eyebrow. “If it’s more than just a ghost?”

  “Then we got our own personal Ghostbuster.” Philip gave Becka a playful nudge. “Right, Beck?”

  She smiled feebly.

  “When?” Julie asked. “I mean, if the Ascension Lady wants a séance tomorrow night, then we should probably do it — ”

  “Tonight,” Philip finished for her. “Let’s grab something to eat and hit the place about eight.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Julie grinned.

  Ryan also nodded, but more slowly as he kept a careful eye on Becka.

  “I don’t know, guys,” Krissi whined, her hand going to her stomach. “Not after yesterday.”

  “Come on, babe.” Philip grinned encouragingly. “I’ll be right beside you. It should be fun.”

  “Yeah,” Julie agreed, “it’ll be fun.”

  Becka’s eyes drifted back to the frozen image on the TV

  screen. Somehow, fun wasn’t exactly the word she had in mind.

  “Beck?” She turned to see Ryan at her side. He spoke quietly.

  “You going to be all right?”

  She nodded.

  “How ’bout Scotty?” he asked. “It might not hurt to have him along.”

  Becka broke into a grateful smile. Of course he was right. It wouldn’t hurt to have her little brother along. It wouldn’t hurt one bit.

  Or so she thought …

  Chapter 4

  7:10 p.m.

  Hey, check this out,” Scott said as he pulled his Bible closer.

  “Remember when Jesus cast those demons out of that guy and into the herd of pigs?”

  Becka looked up from her Bible and notes, which she had spread out on the kitchen table. “Yeah, so?”

  “Do you know why Jesus sent them into the pigs?” She shrugged.

  “Because — ” Scott looked down and read: “ ‘They begged him repeatedly not to order them to go into the Abyss.’ ”

  “The abyss? That’s hell, isn’t it? The ‘bottomless pit’?” Scott nodded. “And from what this says, it’s so bad even the demons don’t want to hang out there. Cool, huh?” Cool wasn’t exactly the word Rebecca had in mind. She glanced at her watch. “Look, we’ve got less than an hour before we go to the mansion. Let’s stick to the subject and keep getting ready, all right?”

  “This is the subject,” he said defensively. “Well … sort of.” She gave him a look, then turned back to her notes. Ever since their first encounter with the Society, she and Scott had started paying a lot more attention to spiritual warfare — jotting down verses from the Bible, sharing information. Now, before they went to the mansion, they’d agreed to review what they’d learned and to spend some time praying.

  “Okay,” Becka said, then cleared her throat. “First, we know about the armor of God.”

  “Check,” Scott said. “The shield of faith, the sword of the spirit, the helmet of … whatever. We’ve been through all that already.”

  Becka hesitated. She wasn’t too thrilled by Scott’s careless attitude, but she continued. “Second, we know Christ gives us authority over Satan.”

  Scott leaned back, put his hands on top of his head, and quoted: “ ‘I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you,’ and ‘Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven.’ ”

  Becka was impressed. She looked back at her notes. “Here’s one on Satan: ‘There is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.’ ”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning we shouldn’t believe what Satan or his little demon creeps say.”

  Scott nodded.

  “Here’s another: ‘
If two of you on earth agree about anything you ask for, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven.’ ”

  “Okay, all right,” Scott said, nodding again. “Let’s get down to the agreeing part.” He closed his Bible with a thump. “Let’s do some praying and get going.”

  Becka glanced at her notes. There were a dozen more verses

  … but because of time — and Scott’s impatience — they would have to wait. Reluctantly she closed her Bible. Something didn’t feel right. She couldn’t figure out what, exactly, but it made her nervous.

  Very nervous.

  “Dear Lord … ,” Scott started, his eyes closed. Becka bowed her head and joined him.

  **********

  8:03 p.m.

  “How’re we getting in?” Ryan whispered.

  “Don’t these old places have coal chutes or something?” Julie asked, shining her flashlight along the back of the house. “You know, some sort of slide thing that goes into the cellar?” The group huddled together in the thick, dripping fog near the back kitchen entrance of the mansion. They were well out of sight of the street.

  “We could always break a window,” Krissi suggested.

  Scott smirked. “Only if we want the neighbors to call the cops.”

  “So what do we do?” Julie demanded.

  “How ’bout using the door?”

  They turned to see Philip effortlessly push open the back kitchen door.

  “How’d you pull that off?” Julie asked.

  Philip held up a single key. “My dad’s the realtor, remember?” The others snapped on their flashlights and stepped through the door into the darkness. Julie led the way, followed by Krissi, Philip, and Ryan. Rebecca and Scott were the last to enter. Scott was scowling hard and rubbing the back of his neck.

  “You okay?” Becka asked.

  He nodded. “I’ve got the world’s biggest headache.”

 

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