Dance For The Devil

by S. Kodejs

  “It seems... interesting. Jot down your ideas, see if graphics will throw together some composites, then bring everything back to me and we’ll flesh it out. Then we’ll know if you have something workable.”

  “Thanks, Jake! I knew you’d like it. I know it’s different from the type of game you’re interested in, but Gil likes variety, and –”

  “Whoa! Dick, save your breath. You don’t have to sell me, that comes later.”

  Jake left, refilled his coffee, then returned to his office, standing near the window and gazing out. It was miserable day. Rain drizzled relentlessly and a thin sheen of fog blew in from the harbor. The brilliant autumn colors he enjoyed yesterday were lost in a cloud of damp-grey and rotting-brown.

  Blessed Be. Jake went to his computer and began playing around, flicking through websites, punching in key words. Witchcraft. Wicca. Paganism. And there it was: Blessed be. A salutation widely used by modern witches. Well, that figures. And it makes a bit more sense when you consider the types of books she sold: mysticism, the Druids and Celts. That quaint little bookstore was a library for wannabe witches.

  He read a little more, somewhat surprised as he scanned the text. Witchcraft was a religion, a philosophy dating back to ancient days. They were polytheists, worshipping more than one spiritual being. Hmmm. That would make them pretty unpopular with the Catholic Church.

  Wicca embraces feminine power and worships the Earth Goddess. Pretty basic stuff, really. Nothing to worry about, even the pentagram seems pretty tame. Certainly not what he’d imagined, just a harmless little religious symbol, not unlike the Jewish star or the Christian cross. He read the words again, more slowly, committing them to memory. The pentagram is the Witch’s symbol of protection and positive power.

  Okay, he could deal with that. While he didn’t exactly endorse it, Amy could do worse. It was harmless, really, like a throwback to the Sixties. Gil was right, she was rebelling. Much like he did himself at that age.

  Jake relaxed a bit, then scrolled down the page. All at once, his eyes froze and terror clutched his heart. He was wrong. Horribly wrong. His daughter didn’t have a pentagram carved in her arm, she had an inverted pentagram, and that was a whole different ball of wax.

  An inverted pentagram is the symbol of Satanism. His eyes scanned more rapidly now. This was no antiquated religion featuring earthy women dancing in circles with flowers in their hair, this was serious business. Full-blown evil. Kidnapped children and tortured babies. Sexual debasement. Heinous acts carried out against humanity.

  He’d been right to be alarmed. If this was a common teenage prank, then Amy needed to be set straight. Immediately.

  Either Gil was correct, and Amy was only goofing around, trying to act cool, unaware of the implied symbolism carved into her flesh, or... God forbid, she knew exactly what the inverted pentagram stood for.

  No. That was unthinkable. Not his daughter.

  His mind began to swirl, images of Amy from infancy to present. Through it all, he envisioned an ugly monster, laughing at him, taunting him. A monster with an inverted pentagram like Amy’s. A monster with glowing red eyes and scaly skin, with horns protruding from his skull and cloven hooves in place of feet.

  A monster bearing the mark of the Devil.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Halloween. Originally a Celtic festival for the dead, now a children’s holiday. Jake never could figure out the connection. But then, how did the resurrection of Jesus Christ at Easter evolve into a giant rabbit hiding candy eggs? No wonder psychiatrists were in such demand.

  “Are you guys ready?” he hollered.

  Skeeter jumped out. “Whoa!” said Jake, stepping back. “Impressive.”

  “I’m a punk rocker.”

  “I figured that out. Great costume, buddy, did Carmen help you?”

  “No, I did it myself.”

  “Is that my shirt? Or, should I say, was that my shirt?”

  “It’s an old one. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, of course not. I love it when my children ransack my closet and rip my clothing to shreds. Here, let me adjust your safety pins. They’re supposed to be sticking out of your cheek... just like this. Perfect, you look truly disgusting.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Jake chuckled. “Never thought I’d be arranging safety pins on my son’s face. Where’s your sister. Amy? Ammmyyy!”

  “I’m here. Don’t get your underwear in a knot.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Nothing,” she mumbled.

  Jake decided to let it slide. “Alright, here’s the plan. We’re going to the Vandercamps for a short visit, then we’ll head into the residential area so Skeeter can trick-or-treat. Maybe Foul Bay Road... that would be a good spot. Close by, lots of houses, little traffic. But no more than an hour, okay Skeet? You really are getting too old for this. Then we’ll do something fun, okay? Go for pizza, maybe catch a movie, but nothing too late. It is a school night, after all. How does that sound?”

  “Great!” said Skeeter.

  Amy rolled her eyes and remained mute, continuing her silent vigil all the way to the Vandercamp’s house.

  “Awesome!” cried Skeeter as they entered the driveway. Jake agreed: the Vandercamp house was a sight to behold. A graveyard transformed the front garden, ghosts hung from trees, pumpkins blazed everywhere. Eerie music howled from hidden speakers.

  “Eeew! Look at that! A dead guy.”

  Even Amy sucked in her breath. Swinging directly above them was a body, noose wrapped around its bloody neck, suspended from a creaking, gnarled oak branch.

  “It’s fake,” Skeeter said.

  “Looks real, though, doesn’t it? Trust Gil to put on such a show.”

  They reached the front door. “An hour,” Jake reminded, “just long enough to be polite, okay guys?”

  “Okay,” Skeeter agreed.

  Amy disappeared immediately. Skeeter went the other way, spotting some friends, and Jake wandered into the main throng. Despite Gil’s instruction not to wear costumes, many of the guests appeared in outlandish attire, including the hosts. Gil appeared, drink in hand, dressed as the Devil.

  “Thought you said no costumes.” Jake surveyed the room.

  “Did I? Meant to tell you it was optional. Susanne made me wear this. Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know, has a certain... rakish appeal.”

  “My secret fantasy,” Gil winked, then pointed to his cocktail. “What’s your poison?”

  “Coffee would be good,” Jake said, looking around. Despite the early hour and the fact there were children present, many guests appeared inebriated. Gill followed his gaze and shrugged. “It’s the costumes, loosens their inhibitions. Lets people pretend they’re someone else, if only for one night. I think a costume speaks volumes, don’t you? Look at Cynthia Blake over there, dressed like a whore. She’s acting the part, too.” Gil laughed derisively. “And, take a gander at Dick Lendall. Dressed up a like a woman! No ordinary woman, mind you, a broad with a pair of forty-eight-double-D’s. Perfect. How about you, Jake? What’s your secret fantasy?”

  “Can’t say I have one.”

  “Sure you do. Everyone has a secret fantasy. Some people’s are just buried a little deeper and a little darker than the mainstream. That’s what makes us special.”

  **

  “I’ve been thinking, Jason, about tonight. I’m not sure I can come. My dad has been watching me like a hawk, planning every second of my day – I can barely use the bathroom without a chaperone.”

  “Think of something,” Elise begged. “It’s not the same without you.”

  Amy flashed a grateful smile, which was quickly squelched by Jason’s next comment. “Amy doesn’t care.”

  She whirled around. “That’s not true, Jason.”

  “Then find a way.”

  “How? We’re staying for only an hour, then my dad has all these lame family activities planned. We won’t even be home until at least eleven, an
d there’s no way he’s gonna let me out that late on a school night, even if I wasn’t grounded.”

  “Jesus, Amy, when did you turn into such a wimp? I thought you had guts. It’s Halloween, the best night of the year. Look, the good stuff won’t happen until at least midnight. When you get home, pretend you’re really tired, go straight to your bedroom, then sneak out – climb out your window. We’ll be waiting for you, outside.”

  “... I don’t know.”

  “You could if you wanted to, Amy.”

  “I wanted to talk to you first. About... the meetings. About what happened last time.”

  “We’ll talk about it later, okay? I promise. Don’t worry,” Jason said, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I’ll take care of you.”

  A tentative knock sounded at Jason’s bedroom door. “Hey, Skeet-man, great costume. What’s up?” Jason asked.

  “Dad says it’s time for us to go. Come on, Amy.”

  Jason smiled engagingly. “What’s the hurry, small-fry? Why don’t you come in and hang with us for a few minutes?”

  Skeeter broke into a large, yet hesitant smile. “Could I?”

  **

  Jake stood at the edge of the room, watching. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t feel comfortable. Ever since the weekend he’d elected to be with the kids, his coworkers treated him like a pariah. On the surface, the respect was still there, but he had the feeling of always being an outsider. Conversations halted when he entered the room, accompanied by sideways glances, knowing looks. He had the impression people were watching and waiting, and he remembered what Skeeter said, “Something doesn’t feel right. These people are phonies, they pretend they’re so great.”

  Cynthia Blake sidled up beside him, her low-cut Spandex dress displaying ample bosom. “Jakey,” she smiled drunkenly. “Come dance with me.”

  “Oh, I’m not much of a dancer, Cynthia, two left feet.”

  “Please,” she insisted, tugging. “You’re the best looking guy in the room, did you know that?”

  He gently disengaged her hands. “Why don’t we just talk.”

  “Oh, that sounds won-derful, and we can have another drinky-poo.” She batted her eyes, unaware her mascara had smudged in raccoon circles. “I hear you’ve been a bad boy, Jakey.”

  “Oh?”

  “Naughty, naughty. Maybe I should spank you.”

  “Cynthia, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  She waggled her finger at him. “Give me a little kiss and I’ll tell you.”

  Jake smiled despite himself. “Now, Cynthia, what would your husband think?”

  “I don’t think he’d like it,” Gil said, coming up behind them smoothly. “Cynthia, run along and behave yourself. You’re acting like a slut.”

  She pointed at her costume. “That’s what I am, silly.”

  “We are aware of that, now go ply your wares on someone who finds you attractive.”

  It took a moment for Gil’s barb to strike, and Cynthia’s eyes narrowed. “I was just telling Jake –”

  “Yeah, I know what you were just telling him. Now get lost.”

  Both Jake and Cynthia blinked at the cruelty in Gil’s tone, and Cynthia, throwing Gil a baleful glance, swaggered off. “She’s a menace,” Gil stated.

  Jake shook his head. “That was rather harsh, Gil, she wasn’t bothering me.”

  “Well, she was bothering me.” Gil turned abruptly, leaving Jake alone. Again, Jake was aware of the covert glances, the uneasy feeling of being adrift in a sea of judgemental strangers.

  **

  “Can I really come in?” Skeeter asked, hopefully. “That would be awesome.”

  “No!” Amy stood abruptly. “Come on, Skeet, Dad’s waiting.”

  “He won’t mind if we stay for a few more minutes.”

  “I said no. Let’s go.”

  “Why the rush, Amy?” Jason asked, moving beside her so his arm brushed against her. “Your little brother is pretty cool. Not like some of the other dorky kids around here.”

  “I want to stay on my dad’s good side, remember?”

  He kissed her lightly. “The plan is on?”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay, just like we planned.”

  “What plan?” Skeeter asked as they walked away.

  “None of your business. Oh, Skeeter? Stay away from Jason, alright?”

  “Why? He likes me.”

  “I know. But –” She hesitated as she searched for the right words.

  Skeeter mistook her silence and broke away angrily. “You’re such a jerk, Amy. I’m not a little kid, I’m almost thirteen. I won’t embarrass you in front of your stupid friends.”

  “It’s not that, I just don’t think it’s a good idea. They’re too old for you, it’s weird for you to play with them. Look,” she finished impatiently, “just promise me you’ll stay away from those guys, okay?”

  “Amy! Skeeter! I’ve been looking all over for you. Ready to go?” Jake asked, coming up from behind them.

  “Yeah,” Skeeter answered, turning away from Amy, missing the look of concern flit across her sullen face.

  **

  Tonight would be the last time. They’d have fun at the nightclub, she’d prove a worthy girlfriend, and she’d also explain that she wouldn’t go to anymore meetings. Jason would understand... he’d have to. If not, well, they’d break up. As handsome as he was, something was starting to bother her. Jason was always pressuring her, convincing her to do things that got her into trouble. As much as she liked him, sometimes dating Jason Vandercamp didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

  It was a quarter-past-eleven and the others would be waiting outside. She’d been home only fifteen minutes, long enough to tell her father she was going straight to bed. He hadn’t seemed to notice, too busy contending with Skeeter’s stomach ache. Stupid kid... ate way too much candy. Served him right for being such a pig.

  She slipped into some clean denims and a new sweatshirt, taking care to stuff her dirty clothing under her bedcovers so Dad would think she was sleeping. She grabbed a warm coat, then opened her window. It was a long way down.

  Stupid house. Who the hell was crazy enough to build a house on a cliff? Amy steeled herself. Jason was wrong, she wasn’t a wimp. She could do this. It wasn’t that high. Step on the ledge here, carefully work her way over to the side of the house... Jesus, this was slippery. Probably ice. Was cold enough to be ice. Should have worn gloves.

  There. Now, she just had to get onto the tree... if she could just reach that branch...

  Amy stretched as far as she could, felt it in her fingertips, stretched a little more... grasped the branch tightly... swung her leg over... then screamed in terror as the branch broke and she tumbled down... falling...falling...down the cliff...towards the ocean below.

  **

  Cari Valentine sat broodingly on top of her desk, swinging her legs back and forth, watching the clock with narrowed eyes.

  Ramona looked at her in exasperation. “Come on, Cari, it’s late. Go home, I’ll stay and finish the inventory. You’re being useless anyway.”

  “That’s a fine way to talk to your boss.”

  “I call them as I see them. What gives?”

  Cari sighed. “Can’t concentrate.”

  “If he was going to phone, he’d have called by now.”

  “Just a few more minutes, I have a strong feeling about this. This guy’s in serious trouble.”

  “So, why don’t you call him if you’re so worried. This isn’t the Dark Ages, you know. Women do call men, happens all the time, little thing called liberation.”

  “All I know is his first name; couldn’t call him if I wanted to. Which I don’t.” Cari sighed. “You can’t force help on someone, even if he’s too pigheaded to realize he needs it.”

  “Typical man – stubborn, arrogant, stupid. Don’t even need them for reproduction anymore, what with in vitro fertilization and test-tube babies. In fact, men are only good for taking out the tra
sh, and even that, they can’t be relied on with any regularity – Cari, are you listening?”

  “If there was only some way...”

  “Why are you so concerned about some guy you don’t even know?”

  “Good question. Wish I knew the answer, just can’t stop thinking about him. He needs my help, I know that as sure as I know my name is Cari Valentine.”

  “What don’t you cast a spell on him?”

  “That’s it! You’re brilliant.”

  Ramona looked shocked. “I was only joking.”

  “I know that, you idiot. But you gave me an inspiration. I’ll make him an amulet to protect him.”

  Ramona considered. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. But how will you give it to him? As you wisely just pointed out, all you know is his first name.”

  “I’ll worry about that later. With any luck, Jake will come looking for me, but if not, I can always try scrying. I’ve been practising.”

  “Really? What do you use, a crystal ball?”

  “No, too expensive. I found a wonderful fisherman’s glass ball on Long Beach a few summers ago. They wash in, sometimes all the way from the Orient. They used to be easy to find, but now with all the tourists... well, you have to be lucky and have a keen eye. Damn. If only I was home I could consult my Book of Shadows. I’m sure something in there would help make a protection amulet.”

  Ramona spread her fingers. “Go, go. I’ll stay.”

  “Oh...but...are you sure?”

  “Positive, this inventory’s got to be done without customers milling about, and I can do it twice as fast without you moping like a demented Saint Bernard.”

  “You’re too sweet.”

  “You’re right, so I’ll take tomorrow off, with pay. It’s the least you can do for making me look at your sour face all night.”

  Cari smiled. “You can have the morning off, I expect you in by lunch.”

  “Slave driver.”

  “You won’t be nervous being here by yourself, so late at night?”

  “Nah, this ain’t exactly New York City. Any troublemakers hanging about and I’ll practise my Tae-kwon-do, and if that doesn’t scare ‘em, then my baseball bat will. That’ll teach the little buggers to play Halloween pranks on me.”