The Bucktown Babies

by Janine R Pestel

  Johann stood in the blackness, his hand held the flask raised for the attack. He felt as though he were frozen…paralyzed. He tried to move his arm, but nothing happened.

  “What the hell,” Johann said, “What did you do to me?” The corpse-like being laughed, which angered Johann even more.

  “Foolish mortal,” the monster said, menacingly, “I am a God. You will need much more than water to defeat me. If I want to, I can turn you inside out and lay your foul intestines bare on the floor. I can take your beating heart out of your chest; I can reduce you to a pool of ooze that even a lowly insect would not venture near. And you are going to fight me with water? Be gone with you.”

  The creature made a motion with one of its skeleton-like arms toward Johann, which caused him to be thrown backward several feet and he landed on his back. As soon as he stopped sliding, he quickly regained his footing. Johann abruptly realized when he fell on the floor, his muscles and bones ached.

  “Dreams don't have pain,” he said to himself, “What the Hell?”

  Johann peered into the darkness, but found nothing, as though he were blind. As he walked, his footsteps seemed to echo off walls where no walls existed. Johann reached out to try and touch a wall, or anything solid but found nothing. He glared back at the devil before him and became even more angered by the smug smile on the beast's face.

  “Where are we,” Johann said.

  “Don't you know,” the apparition asked, “This is where you wanted to be. I merely granted you your wish.”

  “Johann, help me,” a voice cried out from somewhere in the darkness. Johann recognized the voice as being his sister's.

  “Go ahead, priest,” the monster said, teasingly, “Help her. Help her like you did that day she became ours.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Johann shouted, angered at having a weakness exposed. A slight movement from behind the beast caught Father Gunter's attention, and he tried to make out what he saw in the darkness. The sound of footsteps was approaching him, but still, nothing was visible. As they drew closer, Johann raised his hand with the holy water, ready to unleash the pure liquid on this new attacker.

  As if from nowhere, the new visitor became visible, and stood next to the ghoulish apparition. Johann lowered his hand as he gazed upon his sister.

  “Theresa is that really you,” he asked.

  “Yes, Johann, I'm really here,” she answered, “Help me. Help me, Johann. Take me away from this place.”

  Something in Johann's gut was telling him this really was his lost sister. He reached for her, and she reached back. As their hands touched, Johann was filled with hope that perhaps this time he would be able to save her. He tried to pull her to him.

  Johann pulled as hard as he could, but only made minuscule gains - if any at all. Sweat was pouring from his body and his muscles strained as though he was trying to pull a truck with his bare hands.

  Without any warning, her hand was violently ripped from his.

  “No, priest,” the monster said, “You can't have her. We're not done with her yet.”

  Theresa's face changed, and became a blank stare, as though in a trance. Johann tried desperately to grab her hand again and pull her back, but to no avail. She was kept just inches out of his reach.

  “Come on, Terri,” Johann shouted as he extended his hand, “Grab my hand.” He struggled to reach her. As he was doing this, he became aware of a faint, sickening sound. Much like the sound flesh would make if being torn. Something splashed on his face. He brought his hands up and wiped a warm liquid from his cheeks. He Studied his hands, and what appeared to be blood was staining his fingers. He started searching his own body for a place where he may have been bleeding from but found nothing. Confused, he glanced back at his sister.

  As he stared in horror, blood started to drip from her nose, mouth, and eyes. The stench of death permeated the already foul air.

  “No,” Johann screamed out in terror, as the horrible realization hit him like a tank. Protruding from her abdomen was a long, sharp, claw-like object. Black, with the bright red of her blood glistening from its point. The demon had impaled her from behind. He reached out again to her, but she disappeared. The beast began to laugh, louder and louder. The sound of the maniacal laughter reverberated from everywhere. Johann covered his ears in an attempt to block the sound.

  There was a sudden, blinding flash of light, and Johann found himself standing on the side of a country road in the middle of nowhere. The night was dark, and the air was deathly still, with no fragrance at all. In front of him was a fence at the edge of what appeared to be a pasture.

  Johann glanced up at the cloud filled sky, and gazed, confused, at a bright patch which was the full moon behind the clouds. A loud noise broke the stillness of the air and got his attention. Startled, he turned to the sound just in time to catch sight of several large black birds, which he recognized to be Ravens, take flight. His attention was on them for a few moments as they were silhouetted against the full moon.

  “Ravens don't fly at night,” he said, confused. He began to take stock of his surroundings. The roar of a car engine very close behind him shattered the stillness of the night, like a brick through a plate glass window. He turned around to face the sound and became enraged.

  Now, before him, and only mere feet away, was the black Dodge Challenger that had been hunting him. The engine throbbed as the machine idled and sat motionless, as though it dared him to approach. As Johann contemplated the car, the driver's window began to roll down.

  “I'm finally going to find out who you are, you son of a bitch,” Johann whispered, as the top of the head of the driver started to become visible.

  Johann's eyes abruptly popped open, and he sat upright in his bed. He was drenched in sweat, and his breathing was so rapid he was almost fearful he was going to have a heart attack. He examined his motel room, confused for a moment.

  “What that hell,” he said to himself. He studied the coffee table and found the flask of holy water was still in the same spot as before he went to bed. Johann put his head in his hands.

  “A dream,” he said, “A god damned nightmare.” Johann was still trembling in anger from the experience. He's had dreams like this before, but this one seemed a little more real than the others. Something was different.

  The anger welled up inside him. In frustration, he slammed his fist into the front of the nightstand, which toppled everything that sat on it. He hit it so hard, he knocked the stand into the bedroom wall, which cracked the wood of the table. He brought his hand back from the damaged nightstand and could see he had split the skin on one of his knuckles. He clenched and unclenched his hand, as he tried to relieve the pain. He brought the knuckle up to his lips to suck some of the blood that was seeping from it.

  A sharp knock on the wall told Johann one of his neighbors was not happy with his outburst.

  “Knock it off. People are trying to sleep, you know,” a muffled voice shouted, angrily.

  “Sorry,” Johann shouted back.

  “Who, or what, the Hell was that creature,” Johann asked himself, as though he expected himself to answer. “My God, Theresa. I hope that shit's not really happening to you.”

  Johann got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He gazed at himself in the mirror for a moment, then turned on the water. He splashed a little water on his face to rinse off the sweat. The cool water actually felt pretty good to him, and helped him to relax a little. Johann looked up, and looked his reflection in the eye.

  “I'm gonna get that son of a bitch, it it's the last thing I do,” he said, then used one of the towels to dry his face.

  After a few more minutes, Johann walked back to his bedroom. He took the flask of holy water off the coffee table and placed the small metal container on the now damaged nightstand next to his sister's photograph, and his handgun. He pulled back the covers on the bed and lay down. Though his heart rate and breathing had returned to normal, his hands were still trembling. His anger was
raging inside. He picked up the photograph of his sister and looked at the image.

  “I failed you, sis,” he said, as he choked back tears, “I failed you this time, but I will get you back. I swear to God, I will.”

  “That damned car is the key,” Johann thought, “If I can find out who the driver is, I'll find my sister.”

  “Keep playing with my head, demon,” Johann said, as though someone was in the room with him, “Keep playing with my head and I will find you and send you scurrying back to hell.”

  He placed the photograph back on the end table, next to his flask of holy water, and turned off the light.

  -8-

  The next morning, while he was shaving, Johann thought about the dream from last night. Johann was not sure if what he experienced was a dream or an actual encounter with the demon that was in possession of his sister. As he remembered the terrible day she disappeared, he stopped shaving for a moment and closed his eyes, trying to visualize in his mind the demon who took her.

  He tried for several minutes, but every time he was about to visualize the demon, the memory seemed to vaporize into thin air, only to start over again. Like a vinyl record with a sticky spot in the grooves which repeated itself over and over again. Frustrated and angry, Johann opened his eyes and continued shaving.

  Having had no luck with trying to identify the demon, thoughts about the news broadcast from last night now occupied Johann's mind. The story about the head of the CDC calling the hospital. Not knowing how fast news traveled in this town, and not wanting the possibility of a confrontation with anyone, Johann decided the best course of action was to skip the continental breakfast in the motel lobby this morning. Instead, he quickly dressed and went to his car. He was very careful not to draw any unwanted attention his way.

  Johann decided now was time to stop at the church to find out what Father Tuttle had for him, Johann pulled out of the motel parking lot and onto the main road. On the way, he stopped at a fast food drive-thru so he could have a quick breakfast.

  He pulled up to the menu board, and started to decide what he would have for breakfast today.

  “Welcome to Mickey's,” the voice said through the almost non-coherent speaker, “May I take your order?”

  “Yeah,” said Johann, “I'll have a breakfast burrito and a cup of coffee, please. With cream and sugar.”

  “That will be three dollars and seventy-six cents. Please pull forward to the window.” Johann picked up his breakfast and proceeded on his way to the church.

  By the time he arrived at the church, he was just finishing up his breakfast burrito and coffee. He stashed the wrapper from his breakfast burrito and the empty Styrofoam coffee cup into the bag and left the small bag of trash on his passenger seat. He pulled up in front of the church, parked his car and got out. All the while, he kept an eye out for the black car that had been plaguing him since he arrived in town.

  When Father Tuttle opened the church rectory door, he smiled and gave Johann the impression that he was relieved when he found his visitor was Johann.

  “Good morning, Father,” Johann said, “You asked me to come over.”

  “Good morning, my son,” answered the priest, “Yes, indeed I did. Please come in.” He stepped aside to allow Johann to enter. After Johann was inside, Father Tuttle casually surveyed the area outside as though he was making sure no one was watching, and quickly closed the door. He led Johann into his office where the two men sat to talk; the priest, at his desk, and Johann, in the chair in front of him.

  Father Tuttle sat silently for a moment with his arms folded over his chest, and gazed at Johann.

  “So, this is what we've learned so far,” he began, “We are confident there have been about twenty-five infant deaths and ten or twenty miscarriages -,”

  “Fifteen,” Johann said.

  “I'm sorry,” asked Father Tuttle.

  “The doctors at the hospital told me the number is fifteen miscarriages,” Johann said.

  “Okay. So, we have twenty-five infant deaths and fifteen miscarriages. Obviously, this is not natural and must, therefore, be the work of a demon,” Father Tuttle said.

  Johann rolled his eyes slightly. “We already know that Father,” he said.

  “Yes, I am aware of that. I merely want to make sure we're both on the same page, so I am starting from the beginning,” the priest said, “So, please bear with me.”

  “Okay. Sorry, Father. Go on,” said Johann.

  “We also recognize that each infant who passed bore a mark behind its right ear. A sure sign of a demon being involved.”

  “You're aware of the marks,” Johann asked, surprised.

  “Yes, of course, I am. I had to administer last rights.”

  “Yes. Of course, you did.”

  “We also know the hospital has only two pediatricians who have attended to all the cases. One who has been at the hospital for years and the second, which arrived shortly before this all started,” Father Tuttle said, as he continued his analysis.

  “Do you have any new information,” Johann asked, pressing Father Tuttle. He was beginning to become slightly impatient.

  The priest again folded his arms over his chest and gazed at Johann for a few moments.

  “Perhaps,” he said. Johann's eye contact with the him made the priest feel very uncomfortable for a moment, then glanced away.

  “Are you going to tell me,” Johann asked, almost sounding sarcastic.

  “Do you have any hobbies, Father Gunter,” asked the priest.

  “What? Do I have any hobbies? What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I have a hobby,” Father Tuttle said, smugly.

  “Well, good for you,” Johann said, as he became a little more impatient.

  “Do you want to know what it is?”

  “Okay. I'll bite,” said Johann, “What is it?” He was almost beginning to sense the priest was doing nothing more than wasting his valuable time. Time, he believed, which would have been better spent hunting down and confronting the demon.

  Father Tuttle got out of his seat and walked over to a bureau near his window. He picked up a small chest which was on top and carried the box over to his desk.

  “I collect antiquities,” he said, as he again sat down in his chair. “Specifically, antiquities having to do with Egypt and, in particular, ancient Egypt.” He opened the chest and removed a thick, stiff sheet. He placed the sheet on his desk in front of Johann.

  Johann touched the artifact. The rough surface led one to believe it was ancient. The texture was almost like paper, but not quite the same. Johann glanced up at Father Tuttle.

  “Papyrus,” he said, the word sounding more like a question than a statement.

  “Excellent, my son,” the priest said, “You know your ancient papers.” He pushed the small sheet a little closer to Johann. “Take this. You will need it. It will be of more help to you than your gun.”

  “How is this going to help,” Johann asked, confused.

  “I can't say. All I can tell you is I prayed for guidance and received the knowledge that you must possess the sheet,” the priest said, “This little piece of papyrus is what you will need to defeat this foul demon. I am not certain how this papyrus will help, but I certainly have faith it will.”

  Johann took the sheet and held it while the two men talked.

  “So, this is what you wanted to give me,” he asked.

  “Yes,” answered the priest, “That, and some information.”

  “Oh, yeah? What do you have,” asked Johann. “Now,” he thought, “We're going to get to the bottom of this whole visit.”

  “What I possess is not important,” the father said, “What you possess is.” He lit a cigarette, took a puff, and placed the smoldering butt in the ashtray in front of him. He had a tendency to love the dramatic, so he paused for only a moment, to let the drama build. “You have a great ally,” he finally said.

  “It's always good in these cases to have a man of the clo
th on your side,” Johann said.

  “That is true, but I'm not referring to myself,” the priest said, as he took yet another hit from his cigarette. “I'm talking about Robert Durling.”

  “The coroner,” Johann asked, furrowing his brow as though confused. He couldn't imagine how the coroner could possibly be of any help to him. Father Tuttle nodded as he dashed his cigarette out.

  “I really should quit smoking these things,” the priest said, almost to himself. He again turned his attention to Johann.

  “I am very well acquainted with him. He is acutely aware of who you are and why you are here. He will work with you. As a matter of fact,” he leaned a little closer to Johann, as though he was about to bestow a secret upon him, “I believe he may be able to help you find the demon.”

  “He knows who it is,” Johann asked.

  “No, I don't believe so. But, I do believe he may have a hunch.”

  “Well,” said Johann, “Right now a hunch is better than nothing.”

  “That it is, my son, that it is,” said Father Tuttle. He stood up, and placed the chest back on the top of his bureau. “So, that was pretty much all I needed for you to stop by for, Johann. I wanted to make sure you received the papyrus and to make you aware about Robert.”

  “I appreciate all the help, father,” Johann said as he, too, stood up. He put his hand out to shake hands with the priest and Father Tuttle took it. “I'll rid the town of this thing,” Johann said.

  “I have faith in you,” Father Tuttle said, “You and Robert will defeat the demon, I'm sure.”

  Johann picked up the sheet of papyrus from the desk and proceeded to walk out of the office. The priest escorted him to the door and kept vigil as he got back into his car. After Johann's car moved away from the church, Father Tuttle went back to his desk. He picked up his phone and dialed a number. The person on the other end answered after a few rings.

  “Hi. It's me,” the priest said, “He just left here.” He paused while the other person spoke. “Okay. I'm sure that will be all right.” He disconnects the call, sat back in his chair, and closed his eyes to rest a moment.