Invisible Terror Collection

by Bill Myers

  “Krissi!” Philip shouted. “Krissi, answer me!” There was no sound, only the group’s heavy breathing. Becka reached out to touch Ryan’s shoulder, directing his attention across the field, to the left side … to a stand of burned trees. The charred trunks looked like poles, the bare branches reached out like blackened skeleton arms.

  “See?” Philip said, nodding. “It’s exactly like I told you. No way was it a dream.”

  The three continued to stare until Becka motioned for them to be still. “Listen.”

  They did. There was a scratching, digging sound.

  Philip shouted, “Krissi? Krissi, is that you?” No answer. Only more digging.

  Becka pointed. “It’s coming from the trees.” They started through the tall grass toward the burned trees.

  Becka wasn’t sure whether her heart was pounding from excitement or fear. She had no time to decide. Immediately they came upon a long strip of burned grass about five feet wide.

  Philip slowed to a stop. They took his cue. “This is the path the beam of light cut. It started at those trees and ran all the way to my Jeep.”

  Ryan stooped to the ground. He picked up a piece of burnt wood and gave a sniff.

  The digging sound resumed. It was louder than before and mixed with another sound. Gasping grunts.

  “Krissi!” Philip started up the charcoal path toward the trees.

  Ryan and Becka followed. A moment later they arrived under the trees and discovered Krissi. She was on her knees, holding a large stick, and digging and drawing in the blackened dirt. With each stroke of the stick she grunted and groaned.

  “Krissi …” Philip dropped to her side, but she did not notice.

  She was in another world, too preoccupied to notice anyone or anything. Her clothes were covered in ash, her face smeared with charcoal.

  “Krissi …” Philip grabbed hold of her shoulders. She continued drawing. He shook her. “Krissi!” Still no response. “Krissi, listen to me!” The shaking knocked the stick from her grasp, but she did not stop. She dropped onto her hands and began clawing the dirt with her fingers, grunting and groaning like an animal.

  “Krissi!” He forced her to look at him. “Can you hear me?

  Can you hear me?!”

  She blinked. Once, twice …

  “Krissi!”

  Recognition slowly filled her eyes. She looked at the others, her expression lost and confused.

  “Are you all right?” Philip asked, his voice husky with concern and fear.

  Suddenly, she threw her arms around him, clinging to him for all she was worth. “Help me,” she gasped. “Don’t let me go again! Don’t let me go!”

  “It’s okay,” he comforted. “We’re here. We’re here.” She began sobbing. “Don’t let me go … Don’t let me go …”

  “Shh, it’s okay. You’re not going anywhere. Shh …” Rebecca looked on. She wanted desperately to help but knew there was nothing she could do. It wasn’t until Ryan touched her arm and pointed toward the drawing in the dirt and ash that her concern gave way to another emotion. The markings were several inches deep. Only now it was clear they were not drawings.

  They were words.

  WE AWAIT AT CABIN.

  **********

  Over at Hubert’s, Scott stared at the screen as the Crypt Master took roll, typing each of the players’ names.

  Arzule?

  Present.

  Wraith?

  Here.

  The game was about to begin. Scott was more than a little uneasy about being there, especially after talking with Z. But he’d gone to so much work preparing and perfecting his character, he couldn’t just quit now. Not until he saw how well the new and improved Ttocs performed.

  The roll call continued.

  Ashram?

  Here.

  Scott had decided he would play one more game, that was all.

  Just one more. Only this one he’d play as Darryl had suggested: with everything he had, with his heart, his mind, and his soul.

  If he lost, fine. He’d walk away knowing he’d given it his best shot.

  Quantoz?

  Yo.

  Drucid?

  Here.

  If he won, so much the better. He could walk away knowing he had beaten the Master. But to stop after his first defeat …

  well, let’s face it, that just wasn’t Scott Williams’ style.

  Phantasm?

  Here.

  He trusted Z, of course, but what Z had written was still one man’s opinion. And it wasn’t like there was some specific verse in the Bible that said, “Thou shall not play Crypts and Wizards.” Shredder?

  I’m here.

  Ttocs?

  Scott stared at the screen. His name appeared again.

  Ttocs?

  Scott continued to hesitate. If he was going to play this thing, he was going to play all out. He heard a loud sniff to his right and Darryl’s squeaky voice.

  “Scott, you’re up.”

  He nodded.

  Ttocs?

  He reached for the keyboard and slowly typed: Present.

  There. It was done. One more time. And this time he was going to play for all he was worth.

  Chapter 5

  There he is.”

  Becka turned to see Philip exiting Krissi’s house. He spotted their car and headed down the walk to join them. Rebecca rolled down her window. The night air was chilly but not cold. It looked like rain. Of course. It always rained on weekends.

  “Is she okay?” Becka asked.

  Philip ducked his head through the window and rested his arms on the door. “Yeah, she’ll be okay. Pretty tired though.” He glanced away, trying to sound casual. “’Course she wants to see the Ascension Lady tomorrow. You know, get hypnotized, find out what really happened and everything …” Becka nodded. She wanted to say something, but her last comment on hypnotism had nearly caused a fight.

  “When she wrote cabin,” Ryan asked, “any idea what she meant?”

  Philip shrugged. “Maybe her folks’ cabin.”

  “At Cougar Creek?”

  “Maybe.” Silence stole over the conversation.

  “You going to be all right?” Becka asked.

  Philip forced a smile, but there was no missing his concern.

  It was obvious he really loved the girl. “Sure.” More silence.

  “Listen, uh — ” he cleared his throat — “I really appreciate you guys being there for her tonight. I know she hasn’t been the nicest person to be around, especially to you two.” Ryan shrugged. “No prob.”

  Philip continued, “I haven’t said much … but, well, you need to know that I really respect your guys’ faith and stuff.” Becka watched him struggle to put his feelings into words.

  “I mean, what you’ve got — your belief in God and all that, it’s pretty cool … and sometimes, I, uh, well, I envy you.” Before she could catch herself, Becka quietly laid her hand on his arm. It was a small gesture, but she saw it was one he appreciated.

  “Anyway, maybe, when you pray and stuff, maybe you could say a little prayer for her too.”

  Becka nodded.

  “Philip?” Ryan asked.

  He looked over to him.

  “You could join us if you wanted. In praying, I mean.” There was that smile again. Sad. Tired. “Thanks,” he said,

  “but I was there once … remember?”

  Ryan looked at him and nodded.

  Another moment of silence.

  “Well,” Philip finally pulled from the window, forcing another grin and trying to bring the conversation to a happy ending. “You guys take care, and we’ll let you know what happens tomorrow.”

  But Ryan wouldn’t let go that easily. Philip had just shared his heart with them, and he wasn’t going to slip away that easily.

  “Philip?”

  He stooped back down. Ryan’s voice was gentle and quiet.

  “He’s still there for you, man. All you have to do is reach out.


  He’s still there.”

  Philip’s grin faded as he searched Ryan’s eyes. His friend was speaking straight from the heart, and he knew it. Finally he nodded. “I know …”

  With that he rose from the window and started toward the Jeep.

  Becka watched him cross to the driver’s side and open the door. “What did he mean, he’d been there?” she asked. “Been where?”

  “Philip used to believe in God … a long time ago. His whole family.”

  She turned to Ryan. “Philip?”

  Ryan nodded, watching as Philip climbed into the Jeep and started up the engine.

  “What happened?”

  “His folks divorced. He stopped believing in God.” He shrugged. “He stopped believing in anything.” Becka felt like she’d been hit in the stomach. Her heart leaped out to the boy as she turned and watched his Jeep pull into the street, then head down the road. “That’s terrible.” Ryan nodded.

  They watched the taillights disappear into the night as rain started splattering on their windshield.

  **********

  Scott stared at the screen.

  The dice had been good to him. Very good. He’d scored enough points to purchase plenty of weapons, spells, armor, poisons, and hexes at the Wizard’s Shoppe. Not only had Ttocs become one of the biggest and most powerful players, but thanks to Scott’s careful planning, he was also one of the most ruthless. Already he had severely crippled one player and completely disemboweled a mischievous warlock. But that was only the beginning.

  It was his turn, and once again he chose “Combat.” This time against Darryl’s character, Drucid.

  “Oh, man!” Darryl gave a loud sniff from beside him. “Why pick on me? Look how weak I am. I’m no threat.” That didn’t matter to the bloodthirsty Ttocs.

  They rolled, and Ttocs began the attack.

  First he hit Drucid with a mace, a spiked metal ball on a chain. Drucid was able to hold off the first couple of blows, but his armor was like paper when pitted against the mighty Ttocs.

  He soon began to crumple.

  “Give me a break,” Darryl moaned.

  Scott barely heard. He wanted to save his armor points for another encounter, so he released his pet vampire, Rabid, to continue the assault.

  Drucid tried to run for cover, but the dice worked against him. He’d barely turned before Rabid swooped down out of the sky, slashed into his neck, and began gulping Drucid’s steamy black blood.

  Scott could see Darryl fidgeting beside him. It was obvious Drucid’s life would be over before it had a chance to begin.

  “Come on!” Darryl whispered. “You gotta let me play a little longer.”

  Scott glanced at him with a sly grin. No way did he intend to let up. He rolled for another attack. Once again he won. Now Ttocs began a brutal karate assault on Drucid. The creature was able to deflect the kicks and punches, but he didn’t see the dag-ger Ttocs had hidden in his belt … until he felt its icy blade slip between his ribs. Drucid staggered. Ttocs threw him into a head-lock. And there, with his bare hands, Ttocs crushed Drucid’s skull like an egg.

  Darryl groaned and stared at his laptop. It was over. Just like that. His character was dead.

  Darryl was definitely not happy.

  Scott, on the other hand, was ecstatic. The rush of excitement was so great that his fingers were actually trembling. What a game! Ttocs had just annihilated another victim. Gloriously.

  Ruthlessly. But there were plenty more. Scott grinned with glee.

  Ttocs was unstoppable. He would not be held back.

  **********

  It was Rebecca and Ryan’s turn with Z. Since it was Friday, Mom had no problem with Becka having late-night company, just as long as the door stayed open and they said good-bye by midnight. Becka had already logged on to the computer, connected with Z, and started asking questions about Krissi and UFOs.

  But are they real? UFOs, I mean?

  Evidence indicates that all but 5% of reported sightings have a normal, logical explanation.

  And the other 5%? Are they really spaceships from outer space?

  Yes and no.

  Please explain.

  Most reputable researchers believe the appearances are real, but not physical.

  I don’t understand.

  If they are physical, they would have to follow physical laws.

  Such as?

  1. Most sightings have been reported to travel between 1,000 and 18,000 miles an hour. Yet no person has ever reported hearing a loud boom.

  Ryan nodded. “He’s right. The speed of sound is around seven hundred miles an hour. Anything traveling faster than that would create a sonic boom.”

  Z continued:

  2. The objects are often seen coming to instant stops.

  Why is that a problem?

  What happens when you are inside a car traveling at 20

  or 30 miles an hour and it suddenly stops?

  You get thrown forward.

  Imagine that same effect if you were traveling several thousand times faster.

  Your body would be trashed?

  “Hamburger city,” Ryan chuckled.

  Z wasn’t finished.

  3. Many UFOs are seen streaking across the sky, then making abrupt right-angle turns.

  Becka typed:

  Wouldn’t the same thing happen? Whoever was inside would be destroyed.

  Correct. The force of making a right-angle turn while traveling at only 5,000 miles an hour is strong enough to shear in half a solid steel ball, let alone destroy any living creature inside.

  So what are they really?

  Most researchers believe UFOs are not extraterrestrial but inner-dimensional.

  Meaning?

  They don’t come from other worlds; they come from other dimensions.

  Becka swallowed hard. She didn’t like the sound of that.

  Slowly she typed:

  The only other dimension we know is the spiritual world. Are you saying these things are spiritual?

  UFO author Michael Lindemann is quoted as saying that Dr. Jacques Valle, the leading UFO researcher in the world, believes that “so-called aliens don’t fi t any logical pattern of extraterrestrial visitors.” Tracing back through the long history of reported humanoid superbeings in religious and folkloric literature, he suggests that today’s aliens might be a modern analogy to ancient gods, demons, and fairies.

  Becka tried to swallow again, but this time there was nothing left to swallow. The word demon stuck out like a flashing road sign. She typed:

  Those are just opinions, right?

  Expert opinions. Consider the following points: 1. Most “alien” messages are autowritten or spoken through humans in exactly the same method that occultists use to channel demons.

  2. Their messages frequently emphasize the nondeity of Jesus Christ.

  3. They generally insist man will never be judged by God.

  4. Many of these channelers experience the exact physical and mental symptoms of people who are possessed by demons: nausea, hallucination, antisocial behavior, and hearing voices.

  Ryan leaned back in his chair. “He’s describing Krissi to a T.”

  Becka nodded and was already typing:

  What about people who claim they’ve been taken by aliens?

  Reports of so-called alien abductions are increasing.

  However, it is interesting that every abducted person I’ve studied has had previous involvement with the occult.

  Ryan moaned, “Krissi again.”

  Becka nodded and continued typing:

  Every one has dabbled in the occult?

  Without exception.

  Becka was almost finished, but she had one last question: What sorts of things happen in an abduction?

  Sometimes the person is returned physically injured.

  Sometimes not. But there are always psychological scars.

  Worst of all, once an abduction happens, the victims frequently fi nd themselves being taken o
ver and over again.

  Becka and Ryan stared at one another. Each knew what the other was thinking. If it had happened to Krissi once, it would probably happen again.

  Chapter 6

  Philip sat, nervous and edgy, in the back room of the Ascension Bookshop. The room was full of shadows. A couple of worn sofas were shoved against the maroon walls, which were decorated with astrological signs. This was the meeting room of the Society, a group of kids who dabbled in the occult. Philip had heard about them, but he’d never taken them seriously. Come to think of it, he had never taken the Ascension Lady or this bookshop too seriously, either.

  Until now.

  Now the woman had Krissi sitting in a chair and in some sort of trance.

  Philip didn’t like that. Not that he was a control freak — Krissi was free to do whatever she wanted — but he had always been there to protect and defend her. Not this time. This time there was nothing he could do except sit and listen as she recalled the logging road, the cow, the lights, the fire, and stepping out of the Jeep.

  Beads of perspiration covered her face as she gasped for breath. “I’m hanging on to the mirror. I’m screaming to Philip,

  ‘Don’t let go; don’t let me go, please don’t let me go!’ ”

  The room seemed to be charged with electricity, but the Ascension Lady kept her voice even and calm. “And then what happened?”

  Suddenly Krissi burst into tears.

  Philip rose to his feet, but the Ascension Lady motioned for him to stay back. “It’s okay,” she reassured him in a whisper.

  “This is what she has been repressing; this is what her subcon-scious needs to uncover.”

  “Philip …” Krissi’s voice sounded very far away, like a lost little girl.

  “What happened?” the Ascension Lady asked. “Where’s Philip?”

  Tears streamed down Krissi’s cheeks. “He let go. He let go of me …”

  The accusation — the idea she would think he let go on purpose — cut deep into Philip’s heart. He wanted to set the record straight, to tell her he’d hung on as long as he could, but the Ascension Lady’s look told him to remain quiet.

  Suddenly Krissi’s face filled with horror. “No! Stay away, stay away from me!”