“I remember him!” Pete smiled, and looked at his brother. “That was the old bowls player from Cardiff. Chundered all over the bowling green and properly kicked up a stink.”
“Oh yeah,” Chris added, his eyes wide in remembrance. “I remember that one. We forgot to take Father Rhodes a bag of sweets for the motorway journey.”
“That was the one,” Pete said.
Chris nodded to his brother, and Pete subtly nodded in reply. He casually reached into the side pocket of his jacket.
Balaal smiled once more, and the brothers turned their attention to her.
“Do you remember me now, meat-sacks? Do you remember the chaos and torment I brought down upon those pathetic souls?”
Now it was Chris' turned to curl his lip in annoyance.
“Oh, we remember you Balaal. We remember that particular day very clearly.”
“Yessss! Because of the damage I caused; the delicious pain I dealt out.”
“Nope,” Chris replied. “Because you were a complete fucking pussy.”
Balaal hissed, and the atmosphere in the room seemed to thicken, somehow.
“It was one of our easiest cases. We were in, out, and home in time for tea. Of all of the demonic entities we’ve faced, you were the easiest to defeat.”
Some of the other demons laughed, but Balaal did not. The little demon girl had bared her teeth in anger.
“Liar! You lie! I ruined the lives and souls of that community!”
“Only thing you ruined, mate, was the trousers of poor old Jeff. Absolutely shit yourself when you knew we were kicking you back to Hell. I've never seen anything like it.”
The demonic laughing grew louder as it spread throughout the horde. Balaal hissed and took a step forward. Chris gave his brother and Sister Sarah one more glance before turning back to the bitter little demon in front of him.
“After an embarrassing defeat like that, I'm surprised they even let you back into Hell.”
Balaal lunged for Chris, and he dropped the shotgun. Before it could dig its claws into his chest, it was pulled violently out of the way. Pete Idol had the Demon-girl by one of her pigtails and caught her in mid-flight. He pulled her toward him, and pulled from his jacket pocket the elasticated band with the circular silver disc attached to it.
Chris wrapped his arms around Balaal, pinning the monster’s arms to its side. It screamed as Pete went to work with the headband. He placed the strap over its head, pulling the tight. The little demon roared in anger, but the two men held it still.
“Now, Sister!!” Pete shouted.
Sister Sarah threw pipe aside, and pulled out the remote control Chris had given her. She looked at the switches and paused.
“How do I switch it on?” she cried.
“Flip all of ‘em from left to right!” Chris replied. To his left, he saw the horde of demons were beginning to move towards them.
Sister Sarah flipped the switches from left to right as quickly as she could. The demonic rabble paused as a mechanical whirring began. A light at the top of the remote began to blink red. The crossfire poles extended themselves to their full height, and when the bars dropped to reveal the full crosses, the demons howled. The room hummed and began to fill with energy, and Sister Sarah felt her ribcage shuddering inside of her. The horde squealed, held their hands to their ears, seemingly in agony.
“Keep going!” Chris cried above the noise.
Sarah did as he said, and flipped the lower level of switches. As she hit each one a beam of light burst forth from each of the poles, streaming above the demons’ heads, most of whom were doubled over in agony. The beams crossed overhead. The hum grew louder, and Sarah began to feel her teeth tingling. She looked down and saw there was one last button to press.
A large, old-looking button on the top of the remote.
“Do I press this one now?” Sarah shouted.
Chris turned his head to see what she was pointing at. “Not yet!” he shouted.
Chris and Pete shared one more look as the room began to tremble.
“Ready?” Chris asked his brother.
“Let’s fucking do this,” Pete replied.
They hoisted the little girl demon above their heads. They held her arms tightly by her side, ignorant to her curses and bestial roars. Balaal screamed as the light touched its face, and tried in vain to avoid it.
Chris took one more look at the baying crowd. A couple of them were trying to crawl towards them at the centre of the room. Chris shot the nun a look of urgency, and as the hum of the crossfires became unbearable, he raised his voice so she could hear.
“PRESS IT NOW!”
Sister Sarah pressed the button at the top of the remote.
The disc sitting upon Balaal's head crackled and sparked into life. For a moment, the demon continued to thrash and curse, but suddenly the violent humming stopped, and a look of strange surprise crossed the demon’s face. Her eyes became wide and her jaw dropped.
“Oh,” the demon mumbled.
Then a huge shockwave passed through the house, and every demon inside exploded in a burst of sulphuric blood, bone and guts. There was no time to protest or escape as the holy light obliterated them. The explosion knocked Sister Sarah off her feet. Likewise, the Idol brothers were sent reeling in opposite directions as the demon known as Balaal exploded in their grasp. Chris was sent skidding across the debris laden floor and Pete hit the wall behind him with a thud.
Less than a second later, Gallows Hill fell silent.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
WHAT A BLOODY MESS
For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Chris, Pete, and Sister Sarah O'Sullivan picked themselves up from the floor. Unfortunately, this time they were all covered in black gunge and demonic organs.
Chris wiped a glob of gunk from his face and hair and flicked his hands, dispersing it to the floor. Pete began wiping oily muck from his jacket and looked disgusted.
“I bloody loved this jacket,” he grumbled.
“Well it could have been worse,” Chris said.
“True.”
Sister Sarah spat out a mouthful of hellish bile and wiped her mouth.
“Disgusting,” she mumbled.
“You okay, Sister?” Pete asked.
She nodded.
“Hell of a first day on the job, ay?”
“That’s one way of putting it,” she replied. “Do you think that was all of them? The possessed villagers, I mean?”
“I'm pretty sure. I didn't see any more coming through the gateway. I'm sure we got them all.”
Black gunk dripped from the ceiling, making a nasty slop noise as it hit the ground. Chris picked up the shotgun and wiped a string of black ooze from it.
“How did you know that demon was going to take the bait when you were talking to it?” Sarah asked Chris.
“Pride, Sister. There’s a reason it’s one of the seven deadly sins, and if there’s one thing we've learned in our years of doing this, it's that demons are ego-maniacs of the highest order.”
“Yeah,” Pete added. “They don't like it when you belittle or dismiss them. It's hilarious.”
Sister Sarah continued to clean herself off, but couldn't help but smile.
“Father Rhodes was right. You really are full of piss and vinegar,” she said softly.
“What was that?” Chris asked as he stuck his finger in his ear to clear it of goo.
“Just something I heard from a very wise man once,” she replied with a wry smile.
“So, the demon, Balaal? Did you actually remember facing off against it before?”
“Oh yeah. We remember him alright,” Pete said.
“And was it as easy to defeat as you say?”
“God no! That one was a particular nasty son of a bitch. Almost killed Father Rhodes when he was halfway through one of his rites.”
“And he threw one of his bowling balls at my head. Could have taken my head off,” Pete added.
“Yep. Balaal was a
shit and a half, so when I say that sending that prick back to Hell again was actually enjoyable, I mean it.”
The trio chuckled to themselves.
“I'd better go and check on the guys upstairs,” Sarah said. “We need to get them out of here and get them some proper medical attention.”
“I wouldn't say no to some of that, myself.” Chris said, the stinging pain of his calf muscle coming back to him. “I think sitting in an ambulance with a cup of tea and a biscuit would go down a treat, right about now. What do you reckon, Pete?”
Chris looked at his brother, expecting an enthusiastic answer. He couldn’t get enough of tea, after all. He got no such response, though, as Pete was too busy staring at the pile of filth that Sister Sarah had stepped over on her way to the stairs.
“What’s the matter?” Sarah asked.
“I think you're going to want to hold off on getting those kids out of that holy panic room Sister,” Pete said.
“Why?” the nun asked.
“That.” Pete pointed towards the black gelatinous mass on the floor, and when Chris saw it he instinctively took a step away from it.
The large mass of blood, bone, and jelly began to tremble and undulate, almost as if it were alive. Slivers of black moved and pulsated like worms, moved along the floor to join the puddle. Merging. It grew, and shapes formed within it. When the first mouth appeared, it made a sound like something was trying to breathe.
“You've got the be fucking kidding me,” Chris exhaled.
Another mouth appeared at the top of the heap, filled with rotten canines.
“Iiiiiiiddddolllllsssssss…” it hissed, a voice like air escaping from a balloon. “Ddiiiieeeeee…”
Something burst from the top of the blob, and the room was filled with screams. The screams of the damned heralding the coming of something else entirely.
Something big.
“Oh my god!” Sister Sarah gasped.
“We need to get out of here. Right now,” Chris said.
“We can’t just leave the others upstairs!” Sarah reminded him.
“They're safer than we are right now. Whatever this fucking thing is, it's coming for us. We have to draw it away from the house. It’s the only way we can be sure they're safe.”
“We can use the van!” Pete cried, and darted off to the front door.
Sister Sarah looked at the black lump and the faces moving beneath the dark, gelatinous skin. She ran over to where Chris was waiting, narrowly avoiding a black tentacle that shot out from the lump towards her. It squealed as it missed it target.
Before they turned to follow Pete, they saw a large shape stretch and grow from within the monstrosity. Two fiery orbs emerged from the black, and below it a huge set of jaws filled with razor sharp teeth.
A head.
They didn’t stick around to see what happened next.
Outside, the van was a short distance away, and looked worse for wear. Black demon residue began pouring from the back of the van and heading toward the house. As some of it passed his feet, Pete snarled.
“This is fucking gross!” he exclaimed as he jogged to the driver’s door. With a good yank he got it open and jumped inside.
The driver’s seat was covered in broken windscreen, spattered black blood and, much to his chagrin, mint humbugs. Somehow the bag must have been found and broken open, and now the sweet minty candies littered the front seats.
Pete huffed as brushed a couple of humbugs from the seats. He immediately felt for the keys, and cheered internally when he found they were still there. He turned them in the ignition, and to his immense surprise the engine started first time. He leant out of the smashed side window and saw his brother and the nun approach the van. A huge oily was right behind them.
“Hurry up and get in!” he screamed.
Chris and Sister Sarah jumped into the back of the van.
“Go! Go! Go!” Sister Sarah shouted, and Pete gunned the engine.
The wheels skidded in the mud and mess of the grass, the vehicle straining to gain traction.
In the back, Chris quickly reloaded the shotgun.
The van lurched forward, sending mud flying from beneath its wheels. Once it hit the tarmac, Pete hit the gas and felt the engine roar in response. Sister Sarah stared back at the house as the van sped away from it, and was just beginning to wonder if they had left the students alone with a monster, when the ground-floor wall of the house exploded outwards.
***
Brick, mortar, and debris flew in all directions as something impossibly big crashed through the wall as if were paper. It was vast, solid, and black as oil. It moved on four thick muscular legs. Demonic faces stretched all over its body, constantly moving. From a huge and malformed set of shoulders grew a thick, stocky head, from which several sets of eyes stared outwards, each one burning with the fires of Hell. Smoke poured from its nostrils. Two vast, oily black horns stretched outwards. In its enormous, drooling jaws were row upon row of blackened teeth. It roared as it saw the van moving away from the house.
“What the hell is that?!” Pete shouted, cranking the gears of the van.
In the back, Sister Sarah and Chris sat in abject horror.
“You don’t want to know. Just keep driving, and don’t look back!” Chris shouted.
“You can’t tell me that! Now I have to look back!” Pete replied, and quickly glanced over his shoulder. He turned back to the front, immediately regretting his decision to see what was chasing them.
As the junction at the end of the street approached, he took his foot off the accelerator, pounding the brake and cranking the wheel of the van. The tyres screamed as the little vehicle skidded around the corner. Chris tumbled over and Sister Sarah felt the muscles in her forearms tense as she gripped the handle next to her head tighter to keep balance.
Pete corrected the wheel, cranked the gear stick, and slammed his foot on the gas.
The beast chased after them.
***
The survivors tucked away in Petra’s bedroom listened intently for any sound of further activity. For a moment, they had started to panic, but now everything had gone quiet.
“Do you think it is safe to leave the room now?” Petra asked.
Ben crept towards the hole in the bedroom door. When he was close enough, he looked out. Nothing.
“I think it’s okay,” he said.
Then there came an otherworldly scream, and the house trembled once again.
“Actually, maybe let’s just wait a bit longer.” Ben added.
He rejoined the group. No one said anything. With each terrifying sound, the group shuddered. The house began to shake, and Petra put her arms around Ben.
Then the sound of a car engine roaring to life.
“What the hell is happening out there?” Phil Harrison groaned.
The foundations began to shake. Ornaments and picture frames fell from their shelves. The group huddled together, terrified. An almighty roar echoed through the house, shaking it once more before everything fell quiet.
“Ben!” Jim whispered, as Ben got up and moved away from the bed. “What the shitting hell are you doing?”
Ben turned and placed a finger to his lips, silencing his friend. He grabbed Jim's cricket bat, and moved towards the door. He reached out, grabbed the handle and turned it. The mechanism within it creaked and moaned.
Petra darted up from the bed to join her boyfriend, and took with her the last remaining arrow.
“You ready?” Ben whispered to her, smiling.
Petra nodded, and grasped the arrow tightly in her hand. She didn’t know what was beyond the door, but she was ready to stab anything that tried its luck.
Ben eased the door open. Outside, the hallway was steeped in darkness. It was creepy as hell.
As Jim watched his friends disappear into the hallway, past the line of salt that had no doubt saved their lives, he wanted to yell out. He was desperate to scream at them not to go. His ribs ached and stabbed at him as
he felt himself tense. Claire Marie reached down and took his hand. He felt his pulse quicken. Claire glanced over, looked him directly in the eyes. The moment seemed to last forever for Jim, and in some small, tiny corner of his mind, he decided that if he was going to die soon, then there would be no other face he'd want to see before he did. The moment was shattered by the low groan of Phil Harrison as he shuffled in his spot.
Ben and Petra returned a moment later, and the wounded trio all breathed an audible sigh of relief. Jim noticed that Ben had a confused and troubled look on his face.
“Are they okay?” Claire Marie asked.
Ben looked worried.
“I don't know,” he replied shakily.
“I don't understand,” Claire said.
“What’s happened out there, man?” Jim asked.
Ben looked at his girlfriend, and then back at the survivors.
“Well, the good news is, those monsters are all gone.”
“All of them?” Phil croaked
“All of them.”
Jim swallowed hard.
“And whats the bad news, Ben?” he asked.
“Well, Sister Sarah and the Idols are gone,” Ben said. “From what we can tell, they took off in their van.”
“How is that bad news? That means they're still alive,” Claire said.
“True. That’s not the bad news, though.”
“Well fucking hell, mate, spit it out already!” Jim wheezed.
Ben swallowed hard. “I can't believe I'm saying this, but the front of the house is gone!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
HELLHOUND
The van hummed and rattled as Pete pushed it to its limits. The cold evening air rushed into his face through the ragged whole in their windshield. The hole was large enough to see through, and he didn’t have time to remove the whole screen, so he had decided to make do. In the back, Chris managed to sit up and steady himself. Had pulled the doors shut.
Chris and Sister Sarah watched through the back door windows. So far, nothing was following them.
“What’s the plan?” Sarah asked.
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