Devil's Nightmare: Premonitions (Devil's Nightmare, Book 2)

by Robert Pruneda

Assault on Pregnant Wife

  The warning bell rang. He had two minutes to get to his first-period class. One more tardy slip and he would land himself in detention, likely seated alongside Peter Slavic. Not going to happen! He folded the clipping and stuffed it and the photo into his backpack. He didn’t have time to read the article, but he did notice a thumbnail photo of a young police officer. SANDERS was typed in bold typeface underneath it.

  Cody checked the hallway, wondering who might have placed the article in his locker. He thought about reaching back inside his bag to read it, but then spotted Principal Newman. She was looking right at him, tapping on the face of her watch. He had a quick vision of sitting next to Peter Slavic in after-school detention. No thank you! He secured his locker and rushed down the hall towards his Health Education class.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Bobbing for Kernals

  Cody tumbled across the boy’s restroom floor, hitting his head on one of the stall doors. His backpack slid underneath. Peter Slavic and his two friends Kevin Thomas and Randall Cunningham stepped towards him. He closed his hands over his chest, his eyes widened in fear. His body trembled as the teens stepped up to him.

  Peter towered over Cody and shoved him with his foot. “You tell Principal Newman ‘bout what I did yesterday?”

  “No, I didn’t say anything.” Cody rubbed the back of his head, the pain throbbing. “I promise I didn’t tell.”

  Peter picked Cody up by his shirt collar and shoved him against the wall. “You’re a lying piece of shit! She called me into her office today. I know it was you.”

  “It wasn’t me, Pete,” Cody glanced at the other two teens. “I’m telling you the truth.”

  Peter nodded at Kevin, who smiled, revealing clear ceramic braces. He checked each stall and gave Peter a confirming nod.

  “We’ve got a winner. I gotta take a piss first.”

  “Seriously, dude?” Peter complained. “It can’t wait?”

  “Don’t worry, man. I won’t flush.”

  Kevin entered the handicap accessible stall on the far end of the restroom. A few seconds later, urine making contact with water—along with something solid in the toilet bowl—resonated from the stall. Kevin unloaded into the commode for a full minute before finally zipping his pants.

  “Damn, boy,” Peter exclaimed. “You didn’t piss all day or what?”

  Kevin stepped out of the stall and buttoned his jeans. “Something like that. So, is he getting it, or what?”

  “Getting what?” Cody said, eyeing Peter with a grave countenance.

  “I don’t know, guys,” Randall said. “What if someone catches us?”

  “Don’t worry, dude,” Peter said. “Nobody ever uses this restroom after school. Trust me.”

  “Yeah?” Randall nodded towards the nervous boy. “He was in here.”

  “I know, dipshit. This is the only one he ever uses.” He formed an impish smile and pulled Cody towards him. He stepped around him and lifted him from behind while keeping his hand tight over Cody’s mouth, muffling his yelps. Cody kicked and swung wild punches at Peter as he struggled to break free. “Quit squirming, you little worm!”

  Peter lowered Cody onto the floor, grabbed his throat, and squeezed. Cody’s eyes bulged. His face turned red. He grabbed Peter’s wrist with one hand and gazed at the other two boys in desperation. Tears filled his eyes.

  “Pete, he can’t breathe.” Randall took a couple of steps forward. “Let’s just do what we came here for.”

  Peter released his grip and approached Randall. Cody gasped for air and rolled over on his side. He coughed while Peter grabbed a handful of Randall’s hair and pulled his head back. “Don’t you ever tell me what to do again, or I swear I’ll kick your ass.” He glanced at Kevin and shoved Randall towards Cody. “Now grab his legs.”

  Randall and Kevin helped Peter carry their victim inside the stall and lift him upside down over the toilet. As Cody’s shirt fell back, he continued gasping until he finally took in a gulp of unrestricted air. He breathed in a putrid stench of urine and feces soaking in the murky water below. He didn’t look at the contents, but the scent told him exactly what waited for him inches from the top of his head, his sandy blond hair brushing the surface of the shit-filled water. Cody almost puked while he coughed, not from the lack of oxygen after Peter choked him, but from the awful stench invading his nostrils.

  “Oh, my God. Look at his chest,” Randall said, as he stared at the scars. Skin grafting surgeries had covered the pentagram carved into his torso, but they did nothing to remove the permanent deformity.

  “I told you he was a freak,” Peter said, bearing most of Cody’s hundred pounds of body weight. “Now grab his arms.”

  Randall pulled Cody’s arms together, which kept him from fighting back. They both gagged at the sight of the contents in the toilet. It was a horrible mixture of yellow urine and saturated post-constipated release of floating stink bombs.

  “No! Help!” Cody screamed.

  Peter punched him in the side. Through clenched teeth, he warned, “If you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m gonna rip your goddamn throat out.”

  Tears dripped off Cody’s eyelashes. “Please, don’t,” he whimpered. “I didn’t tell on you. It wasn’t me. I swear.”

  “Dunk him,” Pete ordered, and smirked. “You might want to close your eyes, Cody.”

  He did all he could to break free, but it was useless. The cold water soaked into his hair and reached his scalp. He closed his eyes and sobbed. Outnumbered and overpowered, he was helpless, unable to do anything but wait for the humiliation to end.

  Randall’s eyes were sympathetic as he helped restrain Cody. Peter and Kevin snickered as his head dipped into the piss and shit-filled porcelain reservoir. He struggled to break free again, pleading with a weak voice for them to stop, but all it did was fuel their desire to enlighten themselves with more entertainment at his expense. Kevin reached for the handle to activate the ultimate and most disgusting swirly imaginable.

  “No, not yet,” Peter said as he lifted Cody’s struggling body. The toilet water soaked his hair, matting it with dark brown fragments of feces. Darkened water dripped off his head. His face reddened from hanging upside down for so long.

  He pleaded again for them to stop.

  Peter nodded at Kevin and smiled. “Okay, let him down.”

  As soon as Cody was back on the ground next to the toilet, Peter pushed the flush lever, but instead of it draining, it filled to the rim. Peter and Kevin grabbed Cody and forced his head over the toilet bowl. He managed to get a hand onto the rim of the bowl, but it slipped. Peter gripped the back of Cody’s neck and shoved him downward, submerging his face and head. The filthy water overflowed onto the floor, along with pieces of human waste. Peter and the other two maneuvered themselves away from the excretions.

  “Oh, God, that’s disgusting,” Kevin said, laughing.

  Peter kept Cody’s face underwater for a few more seconds and flipped the flush handle. A bit more of the brown water spilled over the edge of the toilet, but then it finally drained and swirled through Cody’s hair and around his face. Randall looked away. His cheeks puffed as an anal-pushed floater made contact with Cody’s lips and disappeared down the pipe.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Randall said, his voice faint.

  A look of revulsion smeared across Peter’s face. “All right. Let him go.”

  Cody coughed and glared at Peter with detestation in his eyes. He glanced at the other two boys. Kevin had a smirk on his face, but Randall’s countenance was more contrite.

  “Maybe now you’ll think twice about snitching on me again, shithead.” Pete said, and then snorted.

  Kevin busted out in laughter. “Shithead! That’s perfect.”

  The three boys left Cody on the soiled bathroom stall floor, alone with his hair soaked in urine and fecal water. He cried silently with one arm draped over the toilet, the other clenched around his stomach. A surge of bile rose in his
esophagus. He vomited into the toilet and quickly flushed it. He didn’t want to take the chance of Pete and his asshole friends returning for another round of dunking. A piece of slimy digested waste hanging from Cody’s bangs dripped onto his nose and ran down his cheek, resulting in another spew of puke that didn’t make it completely into the water.

  †

  Cody’s tears turned into anger when he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He held a wad of light brown paper pulled from the dispenser. He gazed at his bloodshot blue eyes for several minutes and didn’t even notice a boy entering the restroom.

  “What happened to you?” the sixth grader asked from a few feet away.

  He turned his eyes toward the scrawny Hispanic boy. He didn’t say anything. He just glowered, his message loud and clear. The eleven-year-old backed away. “I’ll just… um… I’ll just use another restroom.”

  Cody wiped his face with the paper towels after the boy left. He breathed in a deep sigh, which he soon regretted because it renewed the scent of what had soaked his matted hair. He plugged the drains of two of the three sinks in the restroom with wads of paper and opened the taps. He applied a generous amount of liquid soap into his hands and ran them under the faucet. As soon as he was satisfied with the amount of soapiness, he turned off both faucets and lowered his head into the water, running his hands through his hair. He nearly puked again while he rubbed the bits of feces out of his tangled hair. He rinsed his hair in the other sink and washed his hands. After drying his hair with more paper towels, he used his palms and fingers to comb his hair.

  As Cody drained the sinks, something vibrated from somewhere in the bathroom. He scanned his eyes across the bathroom through the reflection in the mirror and spotted his backpack underneath one of the stalls. He let out another sigh and lowered his head.

  †

  “He’s not answering,” Maria said, after leaving Cody a voicemail. She and Samantha were waiting for him in the car in front of Lee Hauser Middle School. “You didn’t see him in the halls after school?”

  “No, he usually meets me out front when I don’t have band practice,” Samantha said. “Want me to go inside and look for him? Maybe he got held after class or something.”

  “Would you?” Maria checked the time on her watch. “We’ve been waiting for over twenty minutes.”

  As Samantha stepped out of the Mercedes, one of the glass doors at the school’s entrance opened. Cody exited, holding his backpack slack to his side. He ran his free hand through his hair and held it in front of his nose.

  “There he is,” Samantha said. “He doesn’t look very happy. Something must have happened.”

  “I think you’re right,” Maria agreed, recognizing Cody’s angry demeanor. “Do you know anything?”

  Samantha stepped back inside the car, but didn’t answer her mother.

  “Sam?” Maria pressed.

  She shook her head and glanced at her mother. “Maybe he just had a bad day. It happens.”

  “Uh-huh.” Maria narrowed her eyes and watched Cody approach the car. As soon as he got in the back seat she asked him if he was okay.

  “I’m fine,” he said while fastening his seatbelt.

  Samantha turned around in her seat and made eye contact with him.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Gosh! I just—” Samantha cringed. “Eew! What’s that smell?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The Dragon Tattoo

  The gas pump meter reached seventy-five dollars before the trigger finally clicked. While Aaron pulled out his county fuel card to pay for the gas in his cruiser, a beige GMC Terrain parked backwards across the street in front of a vacant building. Aaron glanced at the vehicle and moved his car into a parking spot in front of the convenience store. He went inside and purchased a soda and a carton of cigarettes. When he stepped back outside, the daytime running lights on the sport utility vehicle lit up. Aaron held a gaze towards it for a moment before getting in his car. He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel a few times before starting the engine. He didn’t back out of the parking spot, though. He kept an eye on the vehicle across the street through his mirrors.

  The beige Terrain finally pulled out of the parking lot across the street after a few minutes of sitting in his cruiser. Aaron followed the SUV and stopped directly behind it at a traffic light. There was a green Enterprise sticker on the rear window. He read the license plate, and as soon as the traffic light turned green, he flipped on his overhead red and blues. He also blared a brief rapid pulsating siren. The vehicle pulled off the road into the empty parking lot of a small business.

  Aaron ran the plates in his onboard computer and verified the vehicle belonged to Enterprise Rent-A-Car. With his hand poised over his gun, he approached the driver’s side of the vehicle and motioned for the driver to lower the window. When the window dropped, Aaron smiled, but he wasn’t happy. He placed his left hand on the A-frame of the Terrain and greeted Agent Hirsch.

  “I think now would be a good time for you to explain why you’ve been keeping tabs on me the past couple of days. And yes, I saw you at the school.”

  Agent Hirsch turned his head towards his passenger, a middle-aged woman with short black hair. “Would you mind meeting us at Maple Hills Park?” she answered for him in an elegant British accent.

  “And you are?”

  “She’s my partner,” Agent Hirsch said. “Follow us to the park and we’ll explain everything.”

  Aaron laughed. “Oh, I don’t think so. Here will work just fine.”

  “We’re here to help you, Lieutenant Sanders,” the female agent said. “So, would you please follow us? We’ll explain everything.”

  “No, you can tell me now. Right here. What’s this all about?”

  The two agents shared glances with each other. “It’s about Saint Hedwig,” said Agent Hirsch.

  †

  Against his better judgment, Aaron followed the agents to Maple Hills Park and found a secluded spot to have their off-the-radar meeting. He got out of his car and leaned back against the rear quarter panel with his arms and legs crossed. Those federal suits were wasting his time, but mention of Saint Hedwig had peaked his interest.

  A tall brunette stepped out of the vehicle with Agent Hirsch. She wore a black business suit, white blouse, and four-inch high heels that made her stand taller than both of the men in her presence. What stood out most were her mesmerizing grey eyes. She held her hand out to greet Aaron. “I’m Special Agent Janelle Kramer.”

  “How about we skip the formalities,” Aaron said, ignoring the gesture. “Just tell me what this is all about.”

  “Very well then,” Agent Kramer said, dropping her hand to her side. “We’re not here on official FBI business.”

  Aaron raised both eyebrows. “Is that so? Then why exactly are you here?”

  Agent Kramer handed Aaron a small plastic evidence bag. “Does this appear familiar?”

  He examined it and recognized the ornate pendant inside. It had the shape of a key with a pentacle at the head. “It looks like a key.”

  “While you and Detective Millstead were digging around Saint Hedwig, did you happen to locate the lock to this key?”

  “No, we didn’t,” he said, lowering his brow. “Why are you so interested?”

  Agent Kramer took the evidence bag from Aaron’s hand and stuffed it back in her pocket. “Are you a religious man, Mr. Sanders?”

  “No,” Aaron said. “Not that it’s any of your business. And what the hell does that have to do with anything?”

  “Let me rephrase the question,” she said and paused for a moment. “Would you say that you believe in a heaven and hell?”

  “What difference does it make? Just get to the point and tell me why you have me under surveil—”

  “How is Cody?” Agent Kramer asked. “How is the lad’s condition? His mental state?”

  Aaron straightened his posture. “His condition is none of your goddamn concern.”

  �
��Enough of your rubbish,” she said. “We know about your visit with Donald Luther.”

  “Well, yeah, that’s pretty damned obvious, since you’ve been sniffing my ass ever since I went there.” He turned to Agent Hirsch and bobbed his head. “And yeah, I know it was you.”

  Agent Hirsch shook his head slightly and scratched his forehead.

  “What I am trying to tell you, Lieutenant, is that we are fully aware of why you made that visit. We have already spoken to him.” Agent Kramer took a step closer. “And I would advise against listening to anything he tells you. He is no friend of yours.”

  Aaron narrowed his eyes. “And you are?”

  “Yes, we are,” she said. “We also know of Cody’s curse.”

  “And the chimera,” Agent Hirsch added. “That’s why we’re here.”

  Aaron rested his hand over the grip of his gun. His heart rate increased and his jaw tightened.

  “The chimera is a manifestation from the depths of hell that exists only through the one cursed with the devil’s nightmare.” Agent Kramer’s words were all too familiar to Aaron. “Sacrificing Cody to end this curse—”

  Aaron drew his pistol, but held it to his side. “You’re one of those Satanist freaks, aren’t you?”

  “Pardon? No, not at all. We’re—”

  Aaron stepped forward and aimed the gun at Agent Kramer, inches from her forehead. “I ought to put a bullet in your head right now.”

  “Lower your weapon,” Agent Hirsch ordered as he drew his gun and aimed it at Aaron’s temple. “It’s not what you think.”

  “The hell it’s not.” Aaron poised his finger over the trigger guard. “I’ve about heard enough of this bullshit talk about Cody’s curse and sacrificing him to end it all.”

  “Nobody is talking about killing him,” Agent Hirsch stressed.

  “On the contrary,” Agent Kramer said, “we want to help you end this curse without any more bloodshed.” She paused for a few seconds. “But we need you to come with us to Saint Hedwig.”