Connie did most of the talking. Ron on the other hand continued to look about nervously. Every noise, every movement put him on edge. How could Connie be so very calm after what had happened tonight? He wondered just how seriously she was taking all of this. Maybe not seriously enough. All too soon they arrived at Connie’s door. They stepped up onto the porch.
“I’d invite you in but it’s late,” said Connie, unlocking the door.
“I really wish you’d let me draw a circle of protection around your bed,” said Ron. “I brought the special chalk.”
“Maybe tomorrow,” said Connie. “I promised the landlady I wouldn’t have men in the house after ten.”
Ron shook his head. “Don’t you feel like this is sort of a special situation?”
“I gave my word,” said Connie. “I promise that I’ll lock the door behind me. I’ll be fine. It will be morning soon and we have a lot to do tomorrow.” Connie hesitated. “Or should I say later today.”
Ron realized that he would not be able to change her mind so he didn’t try. He said his goodbyes at the door and headed back toward the clinic and his car. For a moment Connie stood there watching him make his way down, Hutchens Street then she headed on into the house. She switched on the overhead light. It came on alright but it seemed so dim. That was strange. And the room seemed a little bit misty but there was no odor of smoke.
She heard motion, turned to behold the shimmering insect like eyes, the drawn gaunt face of the dark phantom setting in her favorite chair some ten feet away. Those eyes, horrible and yet magnetic, glimmering amber lenses, she couldn’t look away. A scream froze in her throat, forbidden expression.
“My, you have been out late,” said Lex Ton, a sadistic smile on his face. “Don’t you realize that you need your beauty sleep? You need all the beauty sleep you can get. I was afraid that you wouldn’t be coming home until after dawn, then this evening’s festivities would need to be postponed until tomorrow night, and I so want to complete my assignment as quickly as possible.”
Connie dropped her schematics as she closed the door behind her. Her limbs became rigid, unable to function, her eyes fixed. She was as a beautiful mannequin, positioned to the specifications of the management, with consciousness but no ability to express it.
“What shall we do with you?” considered the drell, rising to his feet. “Perhaps you should join Debbie and Leslie in their servitude to my people. You are a bit old, but I’m sure that we could make an exception in your case.” Lex Ton walked around his paralyzed victim several times. “It might satisfy your scientific curiosity.” Lex Ton ran his gaunt bony finger under Connie’s soft chin, bringing a tear of terror to her eyes. “In an existence of infinite possibilities, what shall we do?”
The front door burst open. The pentagram, abruptly thrust in Lex Ton’s inhuman face seemed to temporarily blind him. With all of his might, Ron planted his foot upon the drell’s chest, casting him across the room, over the couch, and to the floor. In that instant, Lex Ton’s concentration was broken, and Connie was set free.
“Run!” screamed Ron, grasping her by the wrist and leading her through the doorway.
They dashed down the sidewalk, fearing to look back, fearing to discover that the drell might very well be but a few steps behind them.
It took but two minutes to reach the parking lot at the clinic where Ron’s car sat. A few seconds later a trail of rubber marked their path into the street.
Connie’s mind foundered in a quagmire of terror. Her limbs had functioned, propelled her from the presence of evil, but it had been instinctive, an autonomic response. “Oh sweet Jesus, it’s all true?” she whimpered, only now collecting the fragments of her consciousness.
“You doubted it?” replied Ron. His heart pounding like a drum roll as he shot through an amber traffic light at north Twenty-Ninth Street.
“Do you think that’s the thing that almost killed Dr. Wilson?” cried Connie. The reality of what she had seen seemed to be dawning on her. Her perception of the universe, of reality itself would forever be altered. “We’ve gotta get help, maybe the police!”
“Who’d believe us?” objected Ron, squealing the tires around the corner and onto north Twenty-Fifth. “We’ve got to get to my place, into the magical circle. It’s the only safe place.”
“Magical circle! How’s some pagan circle drawn on the floor going to help us? Maybe if we just keep on driving, we could reach my parent’s house in upstate New York. I know we’d be safe there.”
“Don’t you get it, Connie? We can’t run from this thing. It will find us no matter where we go, there’s no place to hide. Who can say just how far that thing journeyed to reach us here? You think a few hundred miles are anything to it.”
That statement had been a pure reflex, of questionable validity. What were the limits of this creature? Ron didn’t know. Maybe Connie was right. If they ran far enough, fast enough, they might escape, become lost to this creature amidst a sea of humanity.
“The pentagram seemed to put that thing off balance,” continued Ron. “Perhaps the magical circle will work too.”
A few minutes found the pair miles north of the city on a narrow winding country road surrounded by gently rolling farmland. There was no sign of pursuit. Then again, what form would that pursuit take? Did Karl see it coming?”
Ron swung his old blue Datsun into the long gravel driveway of his home, casting up a shower of pebbles. He slammed on the brakes and headed toward the front door with Connie at his side.
Ron and Connie burst through the front door. Ron hardly had the time to switch on the lights as they continued across the living room, into his bedroom, and lunged into the circle that encompassed the unmade bed. They were safe, he hoped. The two held on tightly to each other, hearts pounding loudly. There was nothing but silence.
Ron sat up, gazed toward the nearly closed bedroom door, then switched on the lamp by his bedside. There was no sign of danger, nothing unusual at all. Had he overreacted? Perhaps they should have gone to the police. No, he would follow the original plan, the one he and Sybil had decided upon. “Remember, no matter what happens, don’t leave the circle, not for anything. We need to stay here till the sun rises. That thing might not be able to find us, I don’t know, but we have to stay right here.”
Connie did not say a word, she clung to Ron, fearing to let go. The thought of what had just happened, ending up like Karl, or even worse, like Debbie and Leslie, it was terrifying. She couldn’t get those gleaming prismatic eyes out of her mind. She seemed to see them every time she closed her eyes.
Connie thought back to the Bible. She’d read it from cover to cover several times over. She attended church regularly. Where did these drells fit into the picture, were they demons, the minions of Satan? She prayed silently, prayed for deliverance from the terror that flew by night.
It was then that the smoke began to drift under the nearly closed bedroom door.
“A fire!” cried Connie.
Ron stared at the smoke that crept across the hardwood floor like a Hollywood special effect. It reached the edge of the circle and billowed upward as if deflected by an invisible wall. “No, it’s a trick,” replied Ron, taking Connie’s hand. “We’ve gotta stay put.”
The minutes passed and the mists continued to billow into the brightly lit bedroom. As they did the lights grew dimmer. Only the electric lamp within the circle remained bright. Soon the room was filled with green luminous vapors, yet there was not the slightest odor of smoke in the air. They seemed to be enclosed within a bubble of clear air.
“What’s happening?” asked Connie, gazing about.
“I’m not sure yet,” admitted Ron. “Just hold fast, don’t move.”
The room beyond the circle vanished completely into the haze. A soft mournful waling emanated from the depths of the mists. It was like the cry of a soul in hell. “Help me, please help me,” it whispered.
“That’s Debbie’s voice!” exclaimed Ron, “I’m sur
e of it. But how could she be here?”
“Dr. Griego, please help me,” she moaned.
Ron sat on the edge of the bed, trying to judge from which direction the voice had come. “It sounds like she’s over there somewhere,” he observed, pointing into the mists.
“Wait,” said Connie, “it’s a trap, it has to be. Debbie isn’t here, how could she be?”
Ron nodded, yet he rose to his feet anyway. “There’s an old double barreled shotgun my dad had left me. It was over there in the closet along with a box of shells. I think I could find them even if this mist filled the house. Why didn’t I think about it before? A double barreled twelve gauge has to have enough firepower to kill a drell. It’s not that far.”
“Wait a minute,” cried Connie, pulling him back from the threshold of the circle. “Your ground rules, remember? No one sets foot out of this circle.”
Ron looked back at Connie then out into the mists. He was confused, torn by powerful emotions. He wasn’t sure what to do.
“Please, Dr. Griego, please get me out of here, don’t let me die,” Debbie’s voice pleaded.
Connie had a hold of Ron’s arm, she would not allow him to step across the chalk line. “That day in the FENS laboratory, the day Debbie came back, how did you introduce yourself?”
“I don’t remember” admitted Ron.
“You’re not thinking this out,” retorted Connie. “That thing’s playing on your emotions. I was there the day Debbie came back, remember? I heard you. How did you introduce yourself?”
“I don’t remember,” he repeated, turning to Connie.
“I do,” she continued. “You told her your name was Ron, not Dr. Griego, Ron. During that whole time, no one called you by your last name. Darn it Ron, I have a memory for these sorts of things. That can’t be Debbie out there.”
The voice faded away, to be replaced by a sinister growl.
“Nuts,” whispered Ron, as he crawled back onto the bed. A moment later, the mists faded. “I almost made a fatal mistake. You saved my life.”
“You did the same for me,” said Connie, turning to Ron. “I never did thank you for it. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
Ron looked into Connie’s eyes, squeezed her hand gently. “Better save it, we’re not out of the woods yet.”
Ron felt so foolish, he had nearly succumbed to the wiles of that demon. This was a living nightmare, a struggle against a creature who knew exactly what it would take to unnerve him. He’d have to do a hell of a lot better if he ever hoped to survive in a conflict against this drell.
It was an hour later that the two fell into a deep sleep authored by fear and exhaustion. It looked like they had won round one, but there were many more nights to come.
“Ron, Ron honey, you shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked.” Ron opened his eyes to the bright morning sunlight streaming through the window and his aunt standing at the bedroom door. “Aunt Sybil, it’s you.”
“I think so,” she replied, looking around. Then she glanced at Connie and smiled. “If you were planning to have a guest, especially such a pretty one, you really should have cleaned up this place. Don’t you want to make a good impression?”
“What’s going on?” asked Connie groggily.
“Oh yes,” replied Ron, motioning to the middle aged woman with a suitcase in each hand. “Connie, this is my Aunt Sybil.”
“Hi,” she said awkwardly.
“Hi yourself,” replied Sybil.
“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” announced Ron, rising to his feet.
“Matthew sent me,” she replied, walking to the threshold of the magical circle. “He said I needed to be here for you.”
“You can’t imagine just how glad I am to see you,” admitted Ron. “Something has happened, hasn’t it?” queried Sybil, the smile evaporating from her face.
“Too much,” admitted Ron. “You were right. Last night Connie and I barely escaped from one of the drells with our lives.”
“Then I’ve arrived at an opportune moment,” announced Sybil, setting her suitcases aside. “Give your aunt a big hug.”
Ron began to step forward and then stopped dead in his tracks.
“Ron, dear, what’s wrong?” asked Sybil, a perplexed expression on her face.
What was wrong? “Nothing,” replied Ron, eyeing his aunt suspiciously. “Something,” she observed. “Come on, out with it.”
“Why are you hesitating, Aunt Sybil?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Ron took two steps backward. “If you were my aunt, you wouldn’t stop at the edge of the circle, you’d come right in.”
“I don’t think I like what you’re implying,” objected Sybil, anger flaring in her eyes.
“Ron,” said Connie. “What’s going on? Why are you talking to your aunt that way?”
“It’s not my aunt, it’s not even human. I’ve had enough of this masquerade,” said Ron, holding up the pentagram. The illusion of his aunt turned away in revulsion, to be replaced by the black hooded being. The room darkened as the illusion of sunlight was replaced by the darkness of night.
“Twice hast thou cheated death,” Lex Ton proclaimed, drawing away from the couple. “I complement you on your resourcefulness, but the game is still young. Many more nights shall we have, a lifetime of them, and I shall have you, both of you.”
The drell avenger dissolved into the darkness, even as the room lights came up to replace the blackness that had ruled their night.
“Is this the way it’s going to be from now on?” Connie asked, tears forming in her eyes, “Spending our nights within a hand drawn magical circle, in fear of our lives?”
“I don’t know,” admitted Ron, holding her more tightly, “I’m as new to this stuff as you.”
Connie looked toward Ron with a sense of panic in her eyes. “I was starting to think that you were an expert in this stuff with all that you’ve done. You mean you haven’t studied all of this mystical hocus pocus before?”
“I’ve only been studying it during the past few days. My aunt is the expert. I’m a rank amateur.”
“Well that’s great,” she said, turning away. “I mean; how did I end up getting involved in this nightmare?”
“It began the day you started working on FENS,” Ron replied, rising to his feet and gazing out the window as the first light of dawn graced the sky. “It’ll be light soon, I don’t think anything more is going to happen tonight. We’d best get some sleep, keep up our strength.”
Connie leaned back, recalled a vow she had made long ago, while she was still in high school. It had been at a church summer youth retreat. She had promised to be a warrior for Jesus, a Christian soldier, to fight spiritual wickedness. She had meant every word of it, but never had she imagined anything like this. Perhaps it was an opportunity, a chance to put her faith to the test. She had been delivered from the beast this night to fight on. She would do just that. She would face Satan on the field of battle armed with the power of the Holy Spirit. The thought brought her peace and sleep. She dozed off in Ron’s arms.
Ron awoke to the sound of someone knocking on the front door. He looked over at the alarm clock at his bedside. It was nearly noon. He’d slept away half of the day. He glanced over at Connie who was still sound asleep. He got out of bed and quietly made his way across the bedroom floor.
“What’s wrong?” asked Connie.
Ron looked around to see her setting up in bed. “There’s someone at the door.”
“Shouldn’t we stay in the circle?” asked Connie.
We can’t stay in that circle forever,” said Ron. “I’m convinced that the drells are strictly nocturnal. Anyway, I seriously doubt that a drell would knock at the front door to announce his presence.”
Ron stepped into the living room and to the front door. He hesitated, then opened the door. He was greeted by his aunt.
“Hello dear,” she said, a smile on her face. “Dr. Wilson said I’d probably find you here.�
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Ron was surprised. “You’ve met Dr. Wilson?”
“Well, yes,” replied Sybil. “I went to the clinic looking for you first. I ran into Dr. Wilson. We had a very nice chat. To say the least, he was very happy to meet me, a member of the board of directors of Martin International. The staff rolled out the red carpet for me, so to speak. After all it was Martin’s money that built that facility and foundation money that supports it.”
“Then he told you about last night,” deduced Ron.
“Yes,” confirmed Sybil. She paused, looking over her somewhat unkempt nephew. “By the looks of you, it would seem to me that what Dr. Wilson spoke of was not the full extent of your adventures last night.”
“You could say that,” replied Ron. He didn’t feel ill at ease standing before his aunt, not this time, nonetheless he pulled out the pentagram from under his shirt and held it before her. She nodded.
“Good, you’re wearing it,” said Sybil, that iridium osmium pentagram might come in handy. It is probably unique. I don’t know where Matthew came up with it. I just know it was a part of his collection of religious artifacts.”
“It already has, twice.”
“Tell me about your troubles,” she asked, stepping through the door. “Aunt Sybil, trouble isn’t the word for it,” replied Ron.
“Are you okay?” Connie asked from the bedroom.
“I’m fine, you can come on out,” said Ron. “It’s my Aunt Sybil, the real Aunt Sybil.”
“The real Aunt Sybil?” she laughed. “I thought the creator threw out the mold after she made me.”
“She?” asked Ron.
The Realm of the Drells Page 16