The Warrior's Beckoning

by Patrick Howard

  The demon vanished. I began to weep, curled in pain on the floor. My family was gone. My wife and daughter were…possessed. My son had been taken by the villainous creature that had appeared and disappeared like smoke. I was alone. Even the drifter had abandoned me.

  When I remembered the drifter, I felt hope stirring deep within. Perhaps he was out there, waiting to help me. My son was not yet possessed. But why? What did they have planned for him? Whatever it was, I could not allow it.

  I slung my rifle over my shoulder, tied my ammo pouch around my waist, and slid a knife into my boot. Outside I found an unusual trail…ice. The demon’s path was covered in frost, and I ran to follow it before it could disappear. I moved quickly yet silently until I spotted them ahead, a group of ten shadowy figures, and beyond them the encampment that appeared to include hundreds of others. Were they all demons? I could not tell. From a distance, some of them looked human.

  I lay flat on my belly, hidden under thick scrub. From my vantage point, I watched as they placed my son on an altar, black and lined with skulls. A living fog began to surround him, seemingly trying to absorb him or be absorbed by him. I left my cover and leaped up, rifle at the ready, and started to run toward the altar, several hundred yards away.

  You cannot stop this! I heard the voice distinctly in my mind. Flee!

  Yet I knew that there was a way to stop it. I had to kill my own son to prevent the…whatever it was…from possessing him, too. I ran down a small slope toward the camp, making no effort to conceal myself—yet no one seemed to notice me.

  As I neared the crowd, a clear path through the dark figures opened up between me and the altar, like a parting of the seas. I ran straight through. The air grew colder as I approached, slowing me. When I was just a few feet away, I halted, drew a bead on the figure looming over my son, and fired, striking the wispy figure in a broad area I assumed to be his chest, and the figure fell to the ground, motionless.

  Drawing my bowie knife, I jumped for the altar and drove the blade through my son’s heart. “Daddy!” he said softly. “Thank you.”

  I trembled. Oh, God, what have I done? Did I have a choice?

  The hooded figures closed in on me. My time had passed.

  Reconnaissance

  AFTER READING THE third log entry, I sat the book on the table. The events were so intense and so familiar. “The book—I wasn’t just reading it. I was living the events, feeling them,” I said to the priest.

  “It was intended that way. You see, feel, and experience the entries as if you were there,” Daniel said.

  “How…?” I asked softly.

  “The power of God,” Daniel replied. We all looked at each other. Eventually, our gazes settled on the soldier; he would be on the forefront of the physical battle, while Daniel would be on point for the spiritual war. Accepting his role, David raised his rifle and walked to the heavy door that separated the bunker from the tunnel system.

  Daniel turned to face me. “Ghost hunter, you’re with David. Frank, with Jason, Rick, with Joel. I’ll take up the rear.”

  The door opened like a hatch. David and I each turned the heavy wheel with one hand and pulled the door open. Cold, stale air rushed past, and distant whispers beckoned to us. Shadows darted in the distance, and we felt a presence. David nodded. With my pistol in my right hand and the EMF meter in my left, I followed right behind him as he entered the tunnel.

  My head lamp was on, as was the flashlight on David’s rifle. Still, the darkness seemed thicker, almost impenetrably heavy. There were faint EMF readings, but nothing definite. The voices continued, but I could not tell whether they were really faint whispers or just my imagination.

  The other five men followed behind us. The tunnel was surprisingly well kept with fresh concrete. Someone had been there recently. But whom?

  The tunnel split, branching left and right. As I stood wondering if we should split up, my EMF meter spiked. Something moved through the intersection, something quick. A shadow?

  “We’ll split into two teams. We have no radio contact, so meet back here in ten. Move!” David ordered. Frank, Rick, Joel, and I turned right, peering into the dark tunnel ahead. Jason, David and Daniel took the left. The temperature became colder as we went. The meter still registered faint EMF readings. What was lurking in the shadows?

  We passed along the winding corridor, ignoring other tunnels that branched off the main tunnel making it seem like a maze. Suddenly, the EMF meter spiked!

  “Where is it?” Frank asked, playing his flashlight beam along the walls.

  “Just ahead of us,” I said. I moved forward slowly. The readings grew stronger and stronger, and I spotted decayed remains just ahead of us. Something loomed over the remains, something unlike the demons I had seen while reading the book. I could smell sulfur.

  “Whoa!” Rick cried. He turned and stumbled backward. Frank and I turned around quickly.

  “What was that?” Frank asked.

  “A cloaked figure, just a few inches from my face,” said Rick.

  The hair on our bodies began to stand up straight. Something scraped against the floor, and we heard rattling, then footsteps. When we turned back to continue on, we saw the decayed body rise and stumble toward us, moaning.

  “What’s going on?” I cried out as we stepped backward. The body reached a hand toward us, dripping rotted flesh, and we opened fire. The thing roared and leaped up. Clinging to the ceiling, it crawled toward us. I drew my BAR and opened fire. The creature jumped to the right, then the left, and soon the walls and ceiling were riddled with gunfire. Frank took careful aim and fired a burst into its skull. The creature fell to the ground, motionless.

  “That was…interesting,” Joel said, breathing heavily.

  “Yeah, you could say that.” I approached the creature. It didn’t move.

  Frank crouched near the spot where the remains had been when we first spotted them. He was examining the satchel he’d found. He removed a pistol and a book. The pistol looked different; it had no clip and was white, appearing to give off a faint light. Frank raised the weapon and fired it into the shadows. It released a beam of light, narrow and fast.

  “Awesome!” he said, standing up. He tossed me the book.

  I turned my head lamp toward the pages and began reading:

  Day 1

  I have volunteered for a test program. For a thousand dollars, how could I refuse? It will initially be a psychological examination—something about understanding fear. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but with the money I’ll be able to buy what I’ve always wanted.

  Day 2

  I’ve arrived at the facility. From there I will be transported to another testing area. The initial evaluation went well; apparently I deal OK with fear. The second phase of the program involves facing my greatest fear—the dark. No idea how this will play out, but I can’t back out now. They probably wouldn’t let me anyway.

  Later, same day

  I’ve been taken, along with five others, to an underground complex, deep within some thick woods. The place gives me the creeps. They gave the six of us a brief weapons demonstration, then handed each of us some sort of laser gun. I was stuck with the pistol. It’s white, wimpy looking. I didn’t admit it, but I’m afraid, and I don’t know what to do.

  Later that day we were sent into a maze of tunnels with walls of rock and dirt, like mine shafts. The only lights we have are the small flashlights they gave us. There are whispers all around, and something keeps moving in the shadows. Either that or the shadows themselves are moving. I can’t tell.

  One guy from the group has already disappeared. Another guy got maimed by something—I couldn’t see what it was—and I think he’s dead. The four of us left just ran away. We’re hiding in a niche right now as I write this. I was such a fool to come here! Why did I have to be so greedy? I know we will all die down here, at the hands of something dark and sinister. Our weapons seem to affect the creatures, whatever they are, but I don’t know if th
ey damage them at all. God help me…

  I read the diary aloud, and we all grew silent. The diary writer and the other five had been completely unprepared for the evil that awaited them. Were we destined to end up the same? We, too, were venturing into the heart of darkness, looking for answers to a question most people didn’t even know enough to ask. Yet we were there by God’s will. The power of Jesus would protect our spirits; I wasn’t sure, though, about our bodies. What if it was God’s will for us to die down there? Somehow, I didn’t think so.

  “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not giving up,” I said. “These people were deliberately tossed into danger, and I intend to avenge them.”

  “I’m with you,” Frank said as he holstered the dead man’s laser pistol.

  “Let’s rip this darkness a new one,” Joel said strongly. Nodding, we ventured farther down the tunnel.

  I wondered what was happening to the other team. Were they OK? Had they, too, met up with an animated dead man? A voice in my head answered my question.

  I am with your friends. Do not be afraid, the voice said. It was a woman’s voice, soft and soothing.

  Who are you? I thought.

  Like you, a piece to the puzzle. See now what has been done, she said.

  I began to see what appeared to be memories, though I didn’t know whose. They moved fast at first, making them difficult to focus on. Someone received a letter about a program needing test subjects. There followed a brief memory of driving to the facility, being met by a person in a white lab coat, and a briefing—all lies, I knew somehow.

  The memories felt like those I’d experienced when I read the diary, except these memories belonged to someone else, someone who was able to read others’ thoughts. This person had known that he was being misled, that they were hiding something, and he had sensed the dark presence in the forest. And they knew he was different, which was perhaps why he had been chosen. But who were “they” in all this?

  The man in the memory was given a laser rifle, a weapon much more powerful than the pistol. He and the others were forced into an entrance on the other side of the bunker from the tunnel entrance we had used. Immediately he knew what was lurking in the shadows, and he attempted to convince the others. They wouldn’t listen, didn’t believe in such things.

  He persisted, explaining that just because they didn’t believe in something didn’t mean it didn’t exist, but they laughed. They said that shadows were just that: shadows. The danger was all imaginary—just in their minds. This was true, to a point. The initial battle was with their minds.

  I had learned that much from ghost hunting. Evil entities always attempted to make me fear them, because that would give them power over me. This was different, though. These creatures weren’t just frightening people; they were killing them.

  A member of the test group was killed almost right away, torn apart by the shadows. Another went missing. The man whose memories I was living had done his best to keep the group together, but like sheep they had all run to the slaughter. Finally, he was alone, firing his laser rifle into the shadows that encroached. He had an edge over the others; he knew when the creatures were near. He found food and water and lasted in the tunnels for days. He was a survivor.

  In the next memory, Daniel and the others found him. He was so relieved to see them. He could feel their auras, their presence, and he knew they had been chosen and sent by God. We all had been. Now that the Survivor was to join us, I wondered if our team was complete or if there were still pieces missing from the puzzle.

  “—and I’ve been looking at this laser pistol, and…” Joel was saying. Apparently, he had been talking the entire…five minutes?

  “What…?” I said apologetically.

  “Ah, you were spaced out,” Joel said with a chuckle.

  “I was just shown memories of a survivor. He’s linked up with Daniel and the others,” I said.

  “You were shown memories?” Frank said, looking puzzled.

  “Yeah. I don’t understand it either,” I said, shrugging. “I just…well, I have faith in them somehow.”

  Frank stared at me for a moment, then smiled grimly. “Yeah, nothing’s normal about today, so if you say you saw someone else’s memories, that’s good enough for me,” he said. “Now, how do we get back to Daniel’s group?”

  We heard footsteps behind us, and we all spun around, weapons drawn, ready to shoot. Those approaching shone their flashlights on each other. It was the other team.

  “Daniel! You almost got shot!” Joel yelled out.

  “What were you thinking, running up on us like that?” Frank asked.

  “Well, how would you react if you heard one of us scream?” David said as they approached.

  “Point taken,” said Frank.

  I looked at the Survivor. He wore a black dress shirt and dress pants. His laser rifle glowed faintly, making it appear to hover in the darkness.

  “God has almost assembled his team,” he said to us. “Now we must enter the facility and find the last piece…”

  “The facility? That must be the place the dead guy’s diary mentioned. Where do we find this place?” I asked.

  “The entrance to the tunnel system is sealed. We’ll have to exit and access the facility from the surface,” he said.

  “Through the woods…?” Rick said softly.

  The Survivor nodded. “Yes, the Forest of Anguish, it’s called.”

  “No kidding. Have you been up there lately?”

  “The organization’s activity has been monitoring a dark entity there, I know,” said the Survivor.

  “Yeah, but…have you been out there?” Rick asked again. “There are monsters everywhere!”

  Daniel spoke. “What choice do we have? If we stay here, we’ll be stalked by the entities. If we can get to the facility, maybe we can figure out what’s going on and how to stop it.”

  “That’s a big if,” Frank said.

  “God called us here, and no one else is going to do it,” said David sternly. “Remember this poem.” He began to recite it:

  The battle rages within.

  A dark influence whispers,

  Demanding your separation from the moment.

  The memories you recall…are they a dream?

  A subtle suggestion ends in a broken life.

  The sorrow is not just with you.

  Visions of terror awaken at night.

  A shadow looms over you.

  With logic we discard the battle within.

  With fear we cower.

  There are too few warriors to fight this battle.

  Standing on the Word, they face the enemy.

  So many doubt them.

  So many ridicule them.

  Will you stand for the weak and the wounded?

  He stopped reciting. “We are the warriors chosen by God, and we are here to stand against the darkness.” His words instilled hope in us all. We knew that they were God’s words, words from the Holy Spirit. We moved with guns raised, the same way we had come in. The shadows receded, watching, perhaps wondering, perhaps planning.

  Soon we arrived at the bunker and slammed the hatch shut behind us.

  “Well, then,” Jason said.

  Daniel walked to the double door and motioned for us all to follow. “Be ready,” he ordered. David flipped over a table and crouched behind it at the right of the room. I stood beside Daniel. The others took up positions of cover around the room. Joel and Frank crouched behind heavy crates at the left of the room. Rick and Jason crouched in the center, and the Survivor stood behind them.

  “On three,” Daniel whispered. He held his hand up, one finger raised. Two fingers. Three. We opened the door quickly, then raised our weapons. All was quiet.

  Then, behind us, the hatch opened slowly. None of us had touched it. Were they about to hit us from both sides?

  “Rick, Jason, focus on the hatch,” David barked. He pointed to the Survivor. “You! Support them.” He turned to Joel and Fr
ank. “The two of you, lay down suppressing fire as needed. Ghost hunter, you’re with me. Daniel, since you have a melee weapon, you stay in the center and slice anything that gets close.” He raised his own weapon. “We have them at two choke points, front and rear. I want overlapping fields of fire!”

  What could we say to his orders? He was a soldier. Combat was his life. We trusted him.

  The walls were riddled with bullet holes from our last battle in this room. I had the feeling it was going to get worse. A Spirit of Decay rushed from the ceiling at the center and another from the wall to the left. The Survivor fired a beam into the one in the center, and Joel fired the laser pistol at the other, and the spirits receded into the shadows. Thump, thump, scrape. The sounds were followed by a sickening moaning echoed from the tunnels.

  We heard snarling from the woods outside. The shadows in the room danced around us. The dark entities were moving. A corpse lurched forward from the hatch and was immediately put down by Rick. A snarling shadow dog hurtled in from the woods, and another lurching corpse, a Spirit of Decay, reached out from the floor in the center of the room. We opened fire. Daniel raised his sword to block a second Spirit of Decay as it came forth. He drove his sword into it as the Survivor fired a beam, and the entity dissipated. The other swiped at Daniel with its scythe. It lunged into one of the corpses at the doorway and then leaped to the ceiling. Several more shadow dogs rushed in. Joel raised his shotgun, and he and Frank fired into the beasts. Daniel and the Survivor pulled themselves up off the floor and rejoined the battle.

  The possessed corpse sent a wave of energy at Joel and Jason, knocking them against the wall. A group of the smaller shadow creatures crawled over the crates and began to attack the two men. Daniel charged, swinging his sword in a wide arc, and the creatures’ heads were severed from their bodies, splattering black blood in a wide radius. The legs twitched as the upper bodies crawled toward Daniel. Joel and Jason sat up, firing into the torsos. A bullet whizzed just past me, ricocheting off the walls. The sound of gunfire was painful, and my eardrums felt bruised and bloody. We were being attacked from every direction, but we stood together.