The Trilogy of the Void: The Complete Boxed Set

by Peter Meredith

  "The stigmata? Sister, I'm sorry but I think someone is pulling your leg." Father John smiled and looked to his fellow priest to share the humor, but Father Alba had retreated even further into his room.

  The younger priest continued, "The stigmata isn't a sign of demon possession. Also, as you say, he came waltzing into the church? As far as I know demons are atheists...though I think some might be Methodists. If..."

  Father Alba interrupted from deep within the darkness of his room, "Was it cold? In the steeple, was it cold up there?"

  The nun's old muscles danced a jig all about her body at the thought of the cold. "Yes it was. It was very cold. And he asked for you, Father, specifically. He called you a lackey. He said that if you hid...I mean, if you didn't come, he'd kill the man...the man he was in, that is."

  "Maybe we should call..." Father John began, but the other priest spoke over him.

  "It asked for me? What did it look like?" He took a step forward. The nun could see beads of sweat forming in his thin brown hair.

  "Like...just a man, but he was bleeding from his hands and...he touched his throat and blood came out of it!"

  "Maybe we should..." Father John started again.

  "Was there a shadow to it...or smoke? Or black clouds around it?"

  "No, it was a man. I mean it looked like a man."

  "We need to call an ambulance!" Father John spoke loudly so as not to be interrupted again.

  "Not yet! I have to see for myself." Father Alba said. "Did you touch it at all?"

  "No, thank the Lord!"

  "Ok, ok...I need to get dressed," he spoke not to the nun, but to his bedroom door. "Sister, please get James and Sean, but do it quietly. Have them meet me downstairs in the office, in two minutes."

  Father John shook his head. "Think about what you're doing! We need to call..."

  "And we will! But first I have to see for myself," the older priest responded, and without waiting for any further discussion, he closed his door. The nun could hear the chubby little man scurrying about inside his room and she made to leave, but Father John spoke.

  "It's not a real possession you know. There are thousands of claims per year, and only a couple ever amount to anything. And even those are a bit..." he waggled his hand back and forth to suggest that they were suspect.

  "Of course, Father. I'm sure you're right," she said, agreeing with the priest out of habit alone. "But this...I have to go and do as I was asked...excuse me." She left the priest rolling his eyes, something that would normally have had her on the verge of exploding, and hurried to the dormitories to get the two counselors.

  Not taking any chance, she crossed to the orphanage through the unseen back hallway that ran behind the main sanctuary of the church. Both Jim and Sean were awake and watching a movie on TV in the dorm common room.

  "I need you two! You have to come over to the offices, right now," she ordered breathing heavily. She had held her breath subconsciously as she had passed the entrance to the church and her body was trying to make up for it. The sound of her voice was strangely whiny and pitched high. The image of the blood and how it had turned the collar of the man's grey sweatshirt red at first and then to black, replayed itself over and over in her mind.

  "Sure, the show's almost over. It can wait ten minutes, right?" Sean said without taking his eyes from the screen. However, Jim was looking at the nun with a queer cast in his muddy brown eyes.

  "No, Sean. We better get going now. Come on get up." Jim stood and stretched, his hands touching the ceiling of the room. With the extra inch on the heels of her black shoes, Sister Mary Agatha stood at five feet, ten inches, and always considered herself big, but she was dwarfed by the immensity of Jim Anderson, and just standing next to him, calmed her down considerably.

  "What's going on?" Sean asked as he heaved his bulk, ponderously up out of the chair.

  "There's a...a man and he's...just come on!" she cranked at the two men, but instead of leading the way, she gestured to them to proceed. She fell into step on the far side of Sean, using his expansive form as a shield of sorts, as they walked down the hall. As soon as they gained the admin building they came upon Father Alba straining with his collar button.

  His hands, wet with sweat, fumbled at his neck, which was quickly turning as red as his face. "Ummph! I give up...Sister would you be so kind." She worked at the button with hands none too reliable, until it finally accepted its position in life.

  "What's going on, Father," Sean asked for the second time in two minutes.

  "We may be facing a case of demonic possession."

  "Wow, just like the movies, cool," Sean gave a big smile to his giant friend.

  The priest glared at him. "No, not cool at all. If this is real...and we don't know that it is, then it'll be far from cool." He started off toward the chapel with nothing but a bible in his moist hands.

  "It is real, Father. The Lord is my witness, his hands started bleeding right in front of me," she was puffing again and it was a struggle for her to keep up. She had begun to feel a sharp pain running up her back and it was all she could do to stay near Sean who lumbered along placidly.

  At the end of the hall, they came upon Father John leaving the last of the offices. He was still in his pajamas but he had thrown a matching robe on as well and in his hands were two decanters of water, a silver handled sprinkler in both.

  "Jim, come take this," he held one of them out. "Now don't spill it. Just walk nice and easy and you won't, ok? Yours is filled with water that I just blessed...this one is just tap water. I think we'll be able to tell if this is a fake pretty quickly."

  "In the movie, The Exorcist, what they did was..."

  "Not now, Sean!" Father Alba snapped at the man. The priest's palpable fear was causing Sister Mary to have second thoughts about going into the chapel again. Her back really was hurting, probably from her fall, and she began imagining a long night spent relaxing in the emergency room eating Jello or ice cream, if they had any.

  Father John gave his fellow priest a long odd look. "I think it might be best, under the circumstances, if I go first. Jim...you stay close, don't go wandering away. You never know right?" Jim only raised his eyebrows the slightest to show that he'd heard the priest.

  Sean looked suddenly a little pale as if the mood of Father Alba had been contagious. "Hey shouldn't I have a weapon or...or a cross or something? Don't-cha think?"

  "Your faith will be your shield," Father John spoke calmly, but this didn't mollify Sean who only shook his head, no.

  "There's a large crucifix hanging on my wall, you can carry that," Father Alba said and the nun could now see that the beads of sweat on his head had reproduced to such an extent that they were forming tiny streams. These ran down his face and disappeared into the black of his clothing.

  Sean hurried to the office and came back bearing both a tremendous crucifix and a satisfied look. The size of the cross was impressive but it reminded Sister Mary that her hands were empty. The nun felt old and useless and perhaps worst, defenseless. She remembered the cross at the end of her rosary and was just grabbing it when Father John spoke.

  "Sister, where in the church was the man?"

  The cross seemed suddenly tiny. It was tarnished, slightly bent, and barely gleamed. It sat in her palm looking older and more useless than its owner. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but it seemed empty, devoid of...magic? Was that what she had expected? For it to glow with the power of...

  "Sister...excuse me," Father John looked at her expectantly.

  "I'm sorry, what?"

  "Where did you leave the man?" Father John asked her gently and put his hand out to suggest that she would lead.

  "The choir balcony," she said this and pretended she hadn't seen the hand gesture but instead made a great show of rearranging her rosary. Father John gave a smile at this and proceeded to walk into the darkened church, followed closely by Jim, Father Alba, and finally Sean.

  Sister Mary couldn't move.
She stood gripping her tiny cross, and terror at what lay in the church, caused her intestines to clench and retreat rapidly.

  The others didn't know. They hadn't seen the blood and the casual manner in which the demon had wounded the poor man, or heard the voice. The voice came back to her and she remembered it had called her...

  "Sister," Father Alba had materialized in the doorway. "It'll be ok. Remember you can't simultaneously have great faith and great fear. Trust in the lord." She wanted to laugh at him and condemn him for hypocrisy. His own fear he wore like a mask, completely covering his normal skin. Instead, she took a deep breath and stepped into the gloom of the church.

  The other three men stood waiting just to the side of the door, with only Father John showing any signs of impatience. "Everything good?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Good...now Father Alba and I will do all the talking. None of you say a word, even if he addresses you. Keep quiet. Chances are this man is in need of serious psychological help...he may be dangerous, so we'll look out for each other and don't let him corner you."

  He gave each a confident look and then proceeded to the light switches against the wall. The room was suddenly and brilliantly lit. The nun scanned the balcony but the man was not to be seen and relief flooded her until Jim said, "He's in the foyer."

  The man could be seen standing in that unusual manner of his just beside the font of Holy water.

  The four men, trailed by the nun, advanced toward him slowly and from a distance, she could see that something had changed in his appearance. His face was now covered in blood and as she walked forward, his blue eyes sparkled out of the dripping mess. The closer they got the more obvious it was that his head had been cut in numerous places around the hairline.

  "The blood on the man's face...and the cuts, they weren't there before, it's another sign of..." the nun began, but Father John cut her off with an angry gesture.

  The tan, raven-haired priest flashed a white smile at the bleeding man. He appeared confident and held his decanter in a casual manner, which was a direct contradiction to the way Jim held his. The big man grasped the decanter with reverence as well as great trepidation over the idea of spilling any of its contents. Father Alba stood sweating profusely holding his bible to his chest with both hands and Sean had his crucifix held out as if warding off a giant vampire.

  "Hello, my name is Father John, what's your name?" the priest began confidently in an agreeable manner.

  "You come to me in clothes for sleeping...do you wish me to bed you? Is that what you want?" the possessed man said this in that terrible voice and then laughed cruelly.

  "It's late...but like I said I'm Fath..."

  "I know you! You call yourself John Santos...Santos... Sanctus...Saint. This is humorous. Saint John, you are not!" The voice caused Sean to raise his crucifix even higher and for Jim to clutch at his own throat.

  "You speak Latin, that's nice. Did you go to a Catholic school?" The priest was still amazingly calm.

  "Alba! I know you speak this tongue. Stop cowering behind your saint. Tell me, do you pray to this saint? Do you get down on your knees before him? Do you worship him with your lips, Alba?" It laughed again and Sister Mary had to turn away at the sight of it. No part of the man laughed along with the demon inside of him. Only the voice and the eyes were touched by that evil laugh.

  "I still would like to know who we're talking to," Father John said and for the first time, the nun noticed that his confidence had slipped quietly away.

  The thing inside the man grunted and hawked up its inhuman language that she'd heard earlier and it gave her the chills.

  Father Alba stepped forward. "Who are..."

  "You know me, slinking coward. I am Ba'al Zubel and you burned the body of my witch. Now I have come for that which you pulled from its chest." The man's body drooped as the demon spoke and his voice was losing its power as if he was dying with the demon inside him.

  Confused at the conversation the nun turned to look at Father Alba and was horrified at the sight of the man. His mask of fear had now enveloped his whole body, which shook uncontrollably so that he bible jittered about in front of his face. She saw he was taking little steps backwards and she started back as well.

  "The Holy water...now, hurry!" he said not to Father John but to Jim, who reacted with a jerk and then started bravely forward. However, Father John beat him too it and put his free hand out and stopped him.

  Father John looked uneasy at what had transpired, but said with confidence, "You say you're Ba'al and that you possess this man, yet you enter a Catholic church, where Holy water sits all about you..." He seemed unsure how to finish the sentence so he left the words hanging and taking a cautious step toward the man, flicked water at him with the silver sprinkler.

  The water seemed to have no effect and the man gained strength in his voice, "You are full of falsehoods Saint John...I'll have you with me soon." The confidence in Father John's demeanor vanished with the words and he motioned urgently to Jim.

  Jim took only a single large step forward and sent a great rain of Holy water onto the possessed man, who reacted in the proper manner. He tore at his exposed face with his bloody hands and took to grunting, "Uhn, uhn, uhn." After a moment of this, the man threw himself to the ground, rubbing the front of his body on the carpet, bleeding into it. For long moments, it writhed on the ground.

  Jim asked, "Did I hurt it? Was that supposed to happen?"

  Sister Mary's heart sank at the look the two priests shared...they didn't know.

  "Yes it hurts, it hurts greatly...Ba'al Zubel wants to feel more." It staggered to its feet and going to the font, plunged its face, caked in layers of blood, straight into the water.

  "No!" Father John yelled. He started forward, but Father Alba reacted with desperate speed and pulled him back.

  "Don't touch him, whatever you do, don't touch him!" The two stepped back as the man squirmed for what was at least a minute under the water before he pulled himself out and threw himself back to the floor. He thrashed about for a long while and then unbelievably began to imitate intercourse with the floor, humping it in great undulating waves of its body.

  Finally, the body jerked in spasms and Sister Mary felt her stomach roll over. She regretted the ice cream now as it worked its way up and she began to breathe heavily, until the moment passed.

  Still face down on the carpet, the demon spoke in its strange language and paused for an answer.

  "What...I don't..." Father Alba began.

  The path! Bring it to me!" the demon said in English.

  Father Alba, gripping his bible so that his fingers were white at their tips, stammered, "The path...I don't know..."

  "The sword!"

  "The sword." Father Alba stared at the blood stained carpet, his mind seemingly in another time.

  The demon, lying face down, growled, "Oh yes, the sword. Remember the cold of it, how it hurt your hands? Remember the body of my witch, how it was frozen? You were Arthur and it was Excalibur. Yesssss...you should have burned it with the body, but you took it. Why? What made you work that blade back and forth in her frozen chest? It took a long time; back and forth, back and forth."

  Father Alba was close to tears, his eyes were watery and bulging. They were snow-globes, glassy and wet, with swirling flecks of fear, dancing in the chaos of a storm. "How did you know?"

  Sister Mary's nausea came back strongly with the image of the priest and the frozen body...and the sword. She knew she was going to vomit this time and she put her hand to her mouth and felt the sweat that had built up on her upper lip. She thought nothing would stop the vomit from coming, but then she saw Sean Shay take a step backwards.

  He had gone alabaster in his fear and looked to be about to sprint from the church. He was no Olympic runner, but despite the excess 200 pounds he carried, he was undoubtedly faster than the nun. It was this thought that had her ignoring the vomit, working its way up into the back of her mouth. She was the slowest one of the five of them a
nd if it came to it, she'd never make it out of the church alive.

  She looked at Sean and their eyes met. They came to a silent and unfortunate understanding. He would run and she would be left alone with it. Her heart began to palpitate painfully in her chest and she could feel each of the beats. They weren't rhythmic, but disjointed with beats missing at odd intervals and it was those missing beats that hurt.

  In her distraction, she missed someone talking, but she certainly heard Father John ask his stupid question, "How do you know this man?" he asked Father Alba. She wanted to scream the answer at him but Father Alba beat her to it.

  "It's not a man."

  "I am Ba'al Zubel, Tyrant of the Void! The skin I wear is man...but on the inside, it is a game. Now give me the sword." It rolled over and stood in an awkward jerking motion. "Do not deny me, Alba! The penalty will be steep!"

  "I won't do it...I won't give it to you." Alba seemed to holding onto the smallest scrap of courage.

  The man smiled a bloody smile. "I will kill this thing..."

  "Please don't!" Sister Mary Agatha cried out from behind the two priests. Her two hands gripped the small cross fiercely, the sweat from her palms making the rosary beads slippery.

  "You seem worried for it, are you acquainted with it?" the man, or demon as she saw it, spoke over the top of the two priests at her. She took another step back and put the cross up to her face, protecting herself with it. She peeked foolishly around it, trying to see if she did indeed know the man, but he was a stranger to her. The demon smiled at the movement. "I will devour it, you know." With that, he put his hand to his mouth and fresh blood drained down his chin.

  "Stop, stop...Father, give him the sword, please," she cried out.

  Father Alba seemed unable to take his eyes from the blood, and he asked, "What do you want it for?"

  "It is the path...it is the way," the demon said and looked again down at the carpet, his head back to being cocked over.

  The priest became more resolved at this. "I won't give it to you. I know you. I have seen what you have done! You'll only use it to promulgate more of your evil."