by Noah Harris
“It’s a magical bracelet dating from the Napoleonic era. Quite the expensive antique. The silver it is made of is a natural dampener that prevents the use of magical ability. The spell engraved on its surface is an additional ward. There will be no wandering between worlds while you’re wearing that.”
They continued through the darkened park. Sirens wailed in the distance all around them, in sharp contrast to the peaceful rustle of the leaves in the wind and the occasional hoot of an owl. They came to a gate in the park that opened onto a city street. A line of cars sat parked outside of it. A man with a rifle stood watch.
“Any trouble?” Anton asked him.
“A couple of looters tried to break into into David’s car, but ran off when they saw this,” the man said, brandishing the weapon.
“Did you shoot the bastards?” David asked.
“Of course not. I didn’t want to attract the cops.”
“Pussy,” David scoffed. “I got the cops in the palm of my hand.”
David went over to one of the cars, a Ford Galaxie, and looked it over.
“They didn’t get to touch it. I stopped them first,” the man with the rifle said. He sounded frightened.
“Good thing for you,” David grumbled, and opened the trunk.
Another cultist produced two pairs of handcuffs and cuffed both Richard and the sacrifice’s hands behind their backs. Looking around to make sure no one was nearby, the cultists stuffed the two of them inside the trunk.
“Get all nice and cozy, faggots,” David said. “You got a long ride ahead.”
He slammed the trunk shut, and Richard and the sacrifice were left in utter darkness.
David hadn’t lied. The car trip seemed to last for hours, although perhaps that was only the fear of not knowing where they were going, or what would happen when they got there. For a time Richard and the young foreign man lay there side by side, utterly terrified and not speaking to each other. The guy whispered to himself in some strange language. It sounded like a prayer of sorts.
At last, Richard controlled his own fear and spoke to the man lying beside him.
“What’s your name?”
“Georgios,” the youth replied with a sob.
“We’ll get out of here, Georgios. Don’t worry.”
“You make joke? We die!”
The youth started thrashing around.
“No, wait. Calm down! You don’t want them to hear you. Listen.”
At the threat of David and the other cultists hearing, Georgios stopped moving, but Richard could smell the fear coming off of him and could hear him hyperventilating.
“They won’t kill us. They need us. You, especially.”
Georgios fell silent for a minute, then in a voice almost stilled with terror asked, “Why?”
“To complete the ritual.”
“No, they can’t make me!”
“You’re right, they can’t. That’s the power you have over them. You have to give yourself willingly. If you do, and he shoots his load into you, that will complete the ritual.”
“Shoot his load? They will shoot me? The man with this car and the gun?”
“No, no. I mean, if the Hooded One cums in you. During sex.”
Richard could feel the man shudder.
“I will never let that thing inside me. I cannot believe I say yes to such a thing. I thought he was human. But even then, I am a sick man.”
Richard blinked. Was this guy straight? Before he could ask, Georgios spoke again.
“So who are you?”
“I’m Richard, and—” Richard paused as they went over a bump. The car had been moving slowly and taking a lot of turns on the city streets, and then had sped up for a time and gone straight. Just now, it had slowed down abruptly and they had gone over a speed bump.
Were they on one of the bridges heading out of Manhattan? There were speed bumps in front of the toll booths. Richard got ready to shout out when David stopped to pay the toll, but the car kept going. Richard slumped, defeated for the time being. Of course with the lights out, the toll booths wouldn’t be working. The car sped up again.
Richard gave a deep sigh and said, “My name is Richard, and I was the last person to go through the ritual.”
“You-you lay with that thing?”
Richard could hear the disgust in his voice.
“I did but I didn’t let him cum in me,” Richard explained. “The ritual wasn’t complete. They tried to complete it a couple of times with me, getting me dosed up like they did with you, but I always stopped it at the last minute.”
“You did it again, when you know what that thing is?”
Richard blushed. How could he explain? He could feel Georgios shift away from him. Even though there was barely room to move in the trunk of the car, the foreigner put as much distance between them as he could.
He decided to change the subject.
“Where are you from?” Richard asked.
“I am Greek.”
“What are you doing in America, Georgios?”
“I come to find better life. Look how that has turned out.”
“How long have you been here?”
“No more question!” Georgios shouted, suddenly angry. “I no want to talk to you. You are sick man!”
David’s muffled voice shouted at them from the front seat. “Shut up back there!”
They fell silent. After a time, Richard whispered, “Look, I saved you, remember? We need to work together.”
“You save me only because you want demon for yourself,” the Greek muttered.
Richard bit his lip. Yes, he had felt jealousy at the sight of the Hooded One and Georgios together. Still, that wasn’t fair. He was trying to save the world.
“Look, if the Hooded One gets into this world, it will be a disaster, chaos. But the demon won’t let them kill me, and they won’t kill you because they’re probably still hoping you will change your mind. It’s hard to find a gay virgin in this town.”
“I am not the gay!” Georgios shouted.
David hit the brakes.
“Don’t make me come back there!”
Richard rolled his eyes. Yeah, this Greek guy had looked real straight when he spread himself for the Hooded One’s giant cock.
“So what are you doing with Anton Black and his crowd?” Richard asked, trying to keep his voice from sounding judgmental.
Georgios paused for a moment, and said. “I come illegal. I work on Greek freighter. They come into port, and I sneak off. The captain, he know I plan to do this and no give me my money.”
Richard giggled. Perhaps it was the last of the drugs, but he couldn’t help but say, “You’re a Greek sailor and you want me to believe you’re not gay?”
Georgios kicked him.
“Quiet, sick man,” he hissed. “I no get fuck with the devil.”
Richard thought for a second. This was all too strange.
“You say you really aren’t gay?”
“Of course I am not. I real man.”
“So you never had sex with a man?”
“Of course not,” Georgios said with disgust.
“But Anton looks for models in the gay district. How did he find you?”
There was a long pause, then the Greek said. “I no have money, as I say. I find faggots who want to fuck. They pay me.”
“I thought you said you weren’t gay.”
“I fuck them, sick man.”
“Huh?”
“I fuck them. I no get fucked.”
Richard shook his head in wonder. “So you’re saying if you fuck a guy you’re not gay?”
“Of course not. I am the man in bed.”
Despite their dangerous position, Richard had to stifle his laughter. This was a new one. He’d heard a lot of denial in his time, and had gone through a long phase of it himself, but this was the limit.
“Whatever, man,” Richard said. “But what are we going to do? How are we going to get out of here?”
�
�I don’t know. Why don’t you get the Devil to help you? Me, I want no help from such things.”
“He’s not the Devil, he’s a demon.”
The Greek snorted. “It make no difference. You are a fool, sick man.”
“They’re not bad. Well at least not most of them. They’re just different than human beings.”
“Shut up, sick man. I want no more of your foolish talk. I try to think of a way out.”
They rode in silence for a long time. If Georgios really was thinking, he wasn’t coming up with anything because he didn’t speak again. At last, the smooth ride of the asphalt changed. The car turned and they heard and felt the crunch of gravel under the tires.
“Shit, I think we’re coming to a house,” Richard whispered.
The car stopped. The doors up front opened and slammed shut. Then, the trunk popped open. David, Anton, and an older cultist he had met named Sam stared down at them.
“Where have you taken us?” Richard demanded.
A fourth man appeared and leaned over the open trunk. Richard didn’t recognize him.
“My house,” the stranger said. He was a bit overweight but well groomed. He had the look of a prosperous businessman. “My name is Cliff and I’m going to make sure you don’t get up to any trouble. If you do, I’ll make things very uncomfortable for you. On the other hand, if you cooperate you might find that this whole affair will come out to your benefit.”
The cultists had taken off their robes and looked like four normal people. Richard knew better though. They hauled out Richard and Georgios. Richard noticed the other cars hadn’t followed them. A spark of hope glimmered in him. There were only four cultists to deal with now rather than the two dozen or so at the park.
As quickly as hope lit, it guttered out. They were still handcuffed, outnumbered two to one, and their captors were armed. Richard didn’t even know where they had been taken.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“Westchester County. That’s all you need to know.”
Richard had heard of the place but had never been to it. In fact, since getting to the city a couple of months ago, he hadn’t left the city at all.
Two months? Had he only come to New York two months ago? So much had happened since then, so much had changed. His old life in Missouri seemed a million miles and years away.
Cliff led them up a driveway. A large, New England style house stood at the end of it. No lights were on.
“No power up here either,” Cliff muttered. “The radio says it’s out in the entire city and several counties.”
“It had a bigger effect than we planned,” Anton said with an ironic grin. “I do apologize.”
“What did you do?” Richard demanded.
“Simple magic,” Anton replied. “We summoned an electrical storm to blast an important power relay. The electricity then surged down the system, switching off connectors all across downstate New York. With the heatwave, the system had been overloaded by all the air conditioning units and fans running non-stop, and was in poor repair in the first place thanks to state budget cuts. One broken connector had a domino effect. A similar event occurred back in 1965, although that wasn’t our doing.”
Woods hemmed in the driveway and the house. Richard thought he caught a glimpse of a roof further off beyond the trees, but he couldn’t be sure. At the end of the driveway, glinting in the starlight, stood a lawn jockey.
Cliff led them around the side of the house to a broad back yard. A fenced in enclosure stood at the back, near the tree line. Suddenly, a chorus of loud barks emerged from it.
David clamped his hands to his ears and bent over as if to ward off a blow.
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” he shouted.
Richard took a step back, shocked. Sam put a hand on David’s shoulder and said in a reassuring voice, “It’s all right. You need to listen.”
The dogs continued barking. David shook all over. Cliff put two fingers in his mouth and gave a sharp whistle. The barking cut off. Cliff inclined his head towards the fenced off area.
“Here, let me show you my pets,” he said.
They led Richard and Georgios to a patch of bare ground about a quarter of an acre in size with a small shed inside it. Three huge Doberman Pinschers slavered and pushed their muzzles against the chain link fence. They stared at the prisoners and growled.
“I told you I don’t do that anymore,” David said. He was hanging back, well behind the rest of them. Even in the darkness, Richard could see him turn pale and tremble.
“I’m done!” David shouted at the dogs.
“He is crazy man,” Georgios said.
“I’m not crazy! They speak to me!” David shouted.
“Quiet, you idiot!” Cliff said. “The neighbors are pretty far off but if you keep bawling like that they might hear you anyway.”
Sam led David away as he muttered to himself.
Cliff turned to the two prisoners. “If you try to escape, I’ll sic the dogs on you.”
“This pervert man will let them fuck him,” Georgios said, sneering at Richard.
“I don’t do that kind of magic,” Cliff said with a laugh. “I leave that to the witches.”
He led them back across the yard to a set of stairs leading down to the basement. He unlocked the door, produced a flashlight, and led them inside.
The basement was crowded with the usual junk—old bicycles, cardboard boxes, heaps of battered children’s toys.
“You got kids?” Richard said in wonder. This guy must live a serious double life.
“Not anymore,” Cliff said cheerfully. “My wife and two brats died in a fiery car crash a couple of years ago. Very tragic, and by tragic I mean liberating. The insurance money allowed me to retire early and focus on my studies.”
Richard didn’t need to ask what kind of studies those were.
“I thought Anton was the high priest,” Richard said.
“I am,” Anton replied. “But there is always room in our organization for more talent. Cliff has studied esoterica more deeply than anyone I know besides myself.”
“Devil worshippers,” Georgios said and spat. “I knew it.”
Cliff turned to him and treated the Greek to an amused smile. “I don’t know what peasant form of Christianity you follow, but if you actually read the proper books you might learn that there is no Devil, at least not the way you imagine. There is no ‘one being’ in charge of evil. In fact, there is no set division between good and evil at all. The demon world exists for its own purposes, and its fundamentally selfish beings forge alliances and make agreements to further their goals just like the selfish beings of this world do.”
“Do not try to twist my mind with your lies, Devil man,” Georgios snapped.
Cliff shrugged and led them to the back of the cellar, where he unbolted and opened a door. Richard felt a prickling sensation on his skin. There was only one reason he knew of to have a bolt on the outside of a door in a private home, and it was the same reason he had a lock on the outside of one of the rooms in his apartment.
Cliff shone the light inside to reveal a boiler room. The boiler stood in one corner, and the rest of the room was bare, except for a pentagram painted in red on the floor. Stubs of candles sat at each point of the five-pointed star. A triangle was painted a little in front of the pentagram.
“You show me this and say you are no Devil worshipper?” Georgios said.
“The acid must be wearing off by now, but stand still and feel for a moment,” Anton said.
Everyone fell silent. Cliff turned the flashlight so that it shone back out into the cellar and left the ritual room in relative darkness. Richard caught a faint whiff of brimstone. He thought he saw something move inside the pentagram. A face wavered into view and disappeared.
“What was that!” Georgios cried.
“Proof that you are sensitive, just like Richard here,” Cliff said. “You saw something didn’t you Richard?”
Richard didn’t repl
y.
“You did, and so did Mr. Black,” Cliff went on. “I myself didn’t see a thing. I may have book learnings, but sadly no magical talent. I am not a bridge between the worlds like you three. Come, just because you are my prisoners does not mean I will be inhospitable.”
Cliff closed and bolted the door to the ritual room and led them back through the cellar, up some creaking wooden stairs, through a door, and into a hallway.
A few steps took them to a large kitchen, where Cliff rummaged around in some drawers and produced several candles, which he lit. The other three cult members took them and set them around the kitchen and the large living room that opened off from it.
Now able to see better, Richard studied his surroundings. The kitchen was well-appointed with a gas stove, big refrigerator, and one of those fancy, new microwave ovens. The linoleum floor and Formica counters were remarkably clean and gleamed in the candlelight. A tidy row of cookbooks stood on a shelf. More importantly, a rack of knives stood below it. Richard made a mental note of those. He’d never stabbed someone before, but he’d do it to these sickos if he got half a chance.
Once again, Richard was crushed by the hopelessness of his situation. How could he stab someone when he remained handcuffed?
Cliff led them to the living room, it was a spacious place with a gabled roof so high that the rafters were barely visible in the candlelight. A sofa and several cushy armchairs were arranged around a large, oak coffee table. An entertainment center held a turntable and a floor unit television. Oak bookshelves filled with old leather-bound volumes lined two of the walls. The fourth wall was taken up by a large sliding glass door looking out on the darkened back yard. Shag pile carpet deadened the sound of their footsteps.
“Sam, if you would take the cuffs off them, please. I don’t think they will try anything foolish.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sam said.
“It’s a shit idea,” David agreed.
Cliff smiled. “No need for obscenity. These are our friends, or should be. We’ve strong-armed them for too long and now they mistrust us. We need to reach out to them, make them see the logic of our position.”
Sam shook his head in disagreement, yet nevertheless did as instructed.
“Don’t worry, Sam,” David said. “I have my gun.”