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

by Robert Pruneda

  Aaron retrieved the items. “So, what am I supposed to do with these?”

  “Turn to the Rite of Exorcism on page forty-five.”

  “I’m not a priest, and this is all in Latin. I don’t—”

  “Then you’ll have to read it slowly and pronounce each syllable. And you’d better hope your heart is in the right place and start having some real faith, because if you don’t—”

  “Yeah-yeah, I get it. I’m fucked.”

  “Will you listen to me?” Agent Hirsch’s voice grew agitated. “As soon as I summon this demon, and it possesses my body, you have to destroy it. Sprinkle holy water on me and recite the Rite of Exorcism.”

  Aaron widened his eyes and shook his head in doubt. “I don’t know, man.”

  “Just do your best pronouncing the words… and have faith in God.”

  “Have faith in God,” Aaron murmured, as he peered at the floor. He pursed his lips and closed his eyes. “We should have left when we had the chance.”

  “Well, it’s a little late for that. There is no other way. This curse isn’t something you can simply pray away or ignore and hope it fades away on its own.”

  Aaron gazed at the dagger on the floor a few feet from the pentacle. “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know my family.”

  “Because sometimes sacrificing yourself for others is the only way to find true peace.” He glanced at Agent Kramer’s body and read from the 666 Rites of Demon Summoning. He spoke in fluent Latin.

  The flames from the candles on the floor lit up. The blood within the crevices of the pentagram flowed and pooled around Agent Hirsch’s shoes. More blood oozed from Agent Kramer’s eyes and flowed towards the pentagram.

  Aaron stepped back a few feet. A cold chill ran through his body, but it wasn’t only from fear. It got so cold inside the room that the vapor from his breath was visible in front of his face.

  Blood seeped through the floor from the center of the pentagram. A dark red mist rose from it and circled around Agent Hirsch. The oozing pool of blood filled the entire mass of the pentacle and bubbled. The agent continued to chant as the bloody mist took shape into a grotesque humanoid creature and stood behind Agent Hirsch. It was devoid of any skin. It was pure bone, bloody muscle, and nerves. It had large clawed feet and elongated, clawed fingers. It had a deformed head that resembled an animal more than a human with its large forehead, black eyes, and long pointed teeth.

  “Get out of the circle!” Aaron yelled. He drew his weapon, but a phantom force knocked it out of his hand. The weapon clattered across the floor into the darkness.

  The demon uttered something in a guttural and incomprehensible voice. Agent Hirsch turned around, dropped the book, and took a step back away from the creature, but remained inside the circumference of the pentacle. “Oh, God,” he said. “We’re really fucked now.”

  “Cut that out, damn it, and think!”

  Aaron searched for his gun and found it a few yards away by the wall. He moved towards it while the demon examined the agent and uttered more words Aaron couldn’t understand. As he reached for the gun, an ethereal figure appeared in front him. All he could see was a set of glowing red eyes within a silhouette of blackness. He levitated off his feet and slammed against the wall next to the wooden door. The spectral force held him two feet off the ground. The summoned demon laughed.

  “Get the hell out of there!” Aaron said, struggling to break free from his bondage. Something cold pressed against his chest, holding him in place.

  “I know this demon,” Agent Hirsch said.

  “That’s great! How do we get rid of it?”

  The demon placed one of its clawed hands over Agent Hirsch’s head. As he gazed upward into the demon’s black eyes, it sunk its claws into the man’s temples. It smiled at Aaron, showing a mouth full of dagger-like yellow-brown teeth.

  “Oh, crap,” Aaron said under his breath.

  “His name is Formeli—”

  The demon snapped the agent’s head back and bit into his neck, ripping out a chunk of flesh. Blood gushed out from the man’s jugular as his body fell to the ground. The fiend then ripped open Agent Hirsch’s shirt and tore into his chest, removing his heart. It slowly rose with the agent’s heart in its bloody claws and turned towards Aaron. The heart burst into flames while the demon formed a malevolent grin. It took a bite out of the flaming heart and tossed the rest of it onto a pile of books that immediately caught fire. The demon stepped towards Aaron, but suddenly stopped. It looked down at the pentacle and back at Aaron. It yelled something at him in a deep guttural voice.

  “Holy shit, it worked!” Aaron showed the demon his middle finger. “I guess you’re fucked!”

  The demon narrowed its eyes and stared at Aaron for a moment. Then it waved its clawed hand at him and uttered something in an ancient dialect. The pressure against Aaron’s chest subsided and he dropped to the ground. Aaron recovered his gun and headed for the exit, but, once there, he found the door closed tight.

  “Open, you piece of—”

  Water seeped underneath the door. Aaron turned around and rushed across the room, slowing only when he neared the demon. He aimed the gun at it while he moved carefully past it. He avoided a burning bookcase that fell in front of him and stumbled behind the heavy desk at the back of the room. He twisted the key in the wall counterclockwise and checked behind him. The pentacle on the floor turned, the demon rotating on it like a music box ballerina. When the ballerina from hell stopped moving, a metallic click across the room signaled his opportunity for escape.

  “Time to bail.”

  Aaron pulled on the key, but it wouldn’t budge. He looked inside the hole and examined the key, gave it another tug. It was stuck. To hell with it! He turned around and headed back towards the door, but then he stopped. The demon was gone. It was then that a deep laugh echoed all around him.

  †

  Aaron sloshed through muddy water while he trekked up the dark tunnel and into a flooded room. Rainwater flowed like a waterfall into the basement from the opening in the ceiling. Heavy rain fell and wind whistled outside. Flashes of lightning illuminated the room like a flickering light bulb, while simultaneous crackles of thunder erupted outside. As soon as he entered the basement, the stone door closed behind him. He ignored the phenomenon and focused on pulling himself through the waterfall and out of the basement. He slipped and fell back with a splash. Books and splinters of wood floated around him.

  As the torrential downpour filled the room with rainwater, Aaron made another attempt to exit through the trap door above him. He got some footing on a piece of furniture and pushed himself enough where he could get an arm out. He reached around for something to grab hold of and finally found something solid. As soon as he closed his hand, he felt warmth and hair underneath his palm and fingers. The chimera glared at him with squinted eyes. Aaron released his grip and splashed back into the water, this time going completely under.

  When he resurfaced, Aaron cursed. His gun had fallen out of its holster. The chimera growled and hissed while Aaron contemplated his options. There was only one, two if he added drowning in the basement. Either way, he accepted the possibility that he may not make it out alive.

  Within minutes, the water had risen to his waist. Within half an hour, Aaron held his head above water with only a six-inch gap between the surface of the water and the ceiling. He had to make a decision and he had to make it fast.

  Despite the heat of the Texas summer, the water was cold and the heavy rain continued to add more water to the equation. He glanced at the trap door a few feet away, but he dared not move towards it. Moments later, rainwater filled the basement, submerging Aaron inside. He held his breath for as long as he could, but then panic set in as his body’s natural instinct for survival triggered a response to either find an escape or drown. He felt around and pushed himself towards the flashes of light. A sharp pain drove into his shoulder as something pulled him out of the water through the trap door.


  Aaron coughed and vomited water. He struggled for breath and then backpedaled away from the chimera as it stared at him, making no noises, not even a low growl. What was with that thing? It had killed with undiscriminating vehemence, but yet it had saved him repeatedly. Why?

  He pushed himself up and made hesitant steps towards the beast. The heavy rain continued to fall as streaks of lightning lit up the sky and thunder exploded around them. The chimera’s lion head roared with hostility. A slight burst of flames shot from the dragon mouth.

  Aaron stopped and took a step back.

  “What do you want from me?”

  Hollow screams and a familiar demonic laugh blended in with the sounds of the violent storm. “In nomine princeps tenebrarum, praecipio tibi in infernum!” a booming voice said from within the storm clouds.

  The chimera stood on its hind legs and cried out with its trio of heads. Several bolts of lightning struck it from the dark circling storm clouds, knocking Aaron off his feet. Grotesque semi-transparent hands reached through the ground and took hold of the screaming beast as several more bolts of lightning struck the chimera’s body. The lion head exploded from the impact of another bolt of electricity. Two more bolts targeted the chimera’s other heads. The dragon head spewed out a flame of fire before it also exploded into a ball of flame, blood, brain matter, and bone. The ram head followed suit. The chimera’s decapitated body fell limp, and then spontaneously combusted.

  As the chimera burned, the rain stopped. The dark clouds cleared away, allowing the sun to shine through them. Aaron watched in disbelief as the body burned, half expecting to wake up from another nightmare as the creature turned into smoldering ash. He picked up a handful of the cremains and let the warm ashes fall in a stream between his fingers onto the wet ground. He closed his eyes and exhaled a sigh of relief, dumping the remaining ashes from his hand. He reached into his pocket for the car keys that Agent Hirsch had given him. They were still in his pocket. He felt something else, a piece of cloth. He pulled it out and spread the soaked parchment with both hands. It had nothing more than a faded blood stain on it, but he remembered the word that had been written there. Redeemed.

  Aaron closed his fist over the cloth, dropped it on the ground, and took a deep breath. As he exhaled, he spotted the beige GMC Terrain parked outside the gates of Saint Hedwig. A myriad of emotions overcame him, but then he felt an unexpected sense of peace. He knew in his heart that the chimera was gone. He had witnessed its destruction and would never see it again. It was finally over. The curse was broken.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Enough

  Maria carried a chocolate birthday cake with fourteen lit candles down the hallway towards Cody’s bedroom. Samantha recorded the occasion with her smartphone, a bright-eyed smile stretching across her face. Aaron held his right index finger over his mouth and opened the bedroom door. He flipped on the light switch and sneaked over to the slumbering teen’s bed.

  Cody slept on his side facing the wall, the bedcover pulled to his shoulders. Aaron knelt beside the bed and motioned for Maria and Samantha to stay in the hallway. He placed his hand on Cody’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. “Wake up, buddy.” Cody moaned and mumbled. Aaron shook him again. “Come on, kiddo. Time to get ready for school.”

  “Five more minutes,” he groaned.

  “No, it’s time to get up. Weekend is over.” Aaron pulled away the covers and gave the boy another shake.

  Cody rolled over on his back and squinted, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

  “Six o’clock.” He ruffled Cody’s hair and nodded towards the hallway. “We wanted to get you up early for your birthday.”

  Maria and Samantha entered the bedroom with the birthday cake. Cody sat up and shielded his eyes with his hand. His face lit up when his family sang “Happy Birthday” to him.

  “You remembered this time.” Cody embraced Aaron. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me.” Aaron jerked his thumb backwards. “Thank Samantha. I’m terrible with remembering special occasions. This was her idea.”

  Cody smiled at his sister and thanked her.

  Samantha wrapped her arms around Cody. “Happy fourteenth, big brother.”

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  “Well, come on, Cody,” Maria said while setting the birthday cake on the desk next to the bed. “Get up so you can make a wish and blow out your candles.”

  “I don’t need to make a wish.” Cody glanced towards Aaron. “It came true two weeks ago.”

  Aaron squeezed Cody’s shoulder, the ordeal at Saint Hedwig still fresh on his mind, and waved Samantha over. Cody hovered over the chocolate cake, posed and smiled for the camera. Samantha giggled.

  “What?”

  “I’m recording a video, silly. You don’t need to pose.”

  Cody laughed. “Oops. My bad.”

  “Come on, make a wish,” Maria urged. “A new one.”

  Cody looked up at Maria and grinned. “Okay, fine.” He closed his eyes for a moment and blew out the candles. Everyone clapped when he extinguished the last pillar of wax.

  Aaron placed both hands on Cody’s shoulders. “So, what did you wish for?”

  “That I could skip school today.” He tilted his head back to gauge Aaron’s reaction.

  Aaron leaned in. “Not gonna happen.”

  Cody grabbed his pillow and swatted Aaron with it.

  “Oh, so now you want to pick a pillow fight. It’s on, buddy!”

  Samantha laughed as she watched the battle unfold on her phone’s small screen.

  “Um, hello!” Maria said. “Cody still needs to slice the cake… and get ready for school.”

  “There’s always one to crash a party,” Aaron said, winking at his wife. He hit Cody one last time with the pillow before tossing it aside. “All right. Let’s fatten ourselves up on some cake.”

  Cody retaliated with his own swift swing of a pillow and darted towards the cake.

  †

  Randall “Randy” Cunningham was a relatively good student on paper who had never flunked a class in his life. He was also confident he had aced his pop quiz in Mr. Reynaldo’s third period U.S. History class, Randy’s favorite subject in school. He had developed quite a bit of interest in history and social studies since the sixth grade. He’d even landed himself on the honor roll once last year, yet he still chose to associate with bullies like Peter Slavic. He didn’t even like Peter, but joining the overweight schoolyard tyrant in his antics kept Peter’s attention off him and focused on others.

  He participated in tormenting vulnerable scrubs in their first year in middle school—something that he’d fallen victim to often when he’d been in the sixth grade—but privately disapproved of targeting Cody Sumner. For one reason or another, Cody always seemed to receive more harassment than any other kid in school. It didn’t matter that he was an eighth grader. The kid was reticent and didn’t have any friends. Randy had heard about the nasty scars on his chest too. He also heard some crazy rumors about his adopted parents.

  Some claimed that Cody’s adoptive parents worshiped the devil and had murdered both of his real parents a couple of years ago in Austin. If the tales whispered throughout the halls of Lee Hauser Middle School were true, they were able to get away with the murders because his adopted father was a cop. Randy had heard that story many times, and a few other even more embellished versions of it, but he didn’t believe any of them. Only an idiot would believe something that farfetched.

  Peter Slavic, on the other hand, lacked the reputation for having even a glimmer of common sense. He was all brute and no brains, a common description for people like him that fit him well. As far as Peter was concerned, Cody’s past—fact or fiction, he didn’t care—apparently gave him a reason to harass the little turd. Doing so by himself wasn’t any fun, though, which is why he had Randy and Kevin. Randy was more of a bystander. He rarely had the balls to take the initiative and whack a random scrub on the back of the head. He was, however
, usually the first one to burst out in laughter when a kid would trip and fall flat on his face.

  It was no different when Kevin stuck his foot out in front of Cody in the cafeteria. The food catapulted airborne. The sound of the serving tray, bowl, and plate crashing to the floor muted every conversation in the room. Heads turned in unison. And it was Randy who broke the silence with his guffaw, pointing at Kevin’s victim on the floor. Several other students erupted in laughter and gathered around the hapless boy on his hands and knees, his meatloaf squished between the plate and the cafeteria floor.

  Cody picked up the only salvageable items he could find—a small carton of chocolate skim milk and a whole wheat roll—that had managed to land safely on his tray. The majority of his apple sauce had found its way out of the plastic bowl and onto Cody’s blue Atlanta Braves t-shirt.

  A tall, middle-aged cafeteria monitor shooed the crowd away and assisted Cody. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” She took the tray from Cody’s hands and set it aside on a nearby counter. She cleaned the applesauce off his shirt with a damp cloth. “What happened?”

  Cody glared at Peter. The overweight teen nodded towards Kevin and narrowed his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and pantomimed flicking something onto the floor. Cody frowned. Peter grinned. The message was loud and clear.

  “I tripped, Miss Sandra. That’s all.” It was all Cody offered to explain the embarrassing turn of events. It didn’t matter if she believed him or not, and from the look on her face, she didn’t. It was in his best interest to stick with that story, anyway.

  The woman glanced at Peter with intuitive suspicion and offered Cody another plate of food. With almost every student watching, including Samantha, she ushered him back through the serving line. He duplicated his original selections and thanked Miss Sandra for her help.