“OK, I’ll leave in a moment,” Hector said as he turned and walked to the back of the store. He avoided eye contact with the two young women strolling up to the front. He shook his head as he could not help but notice they were both carrying Santa Muerte candles. He considered saying something to them but stopped. He had other business to attend to and knew his discouragement probably would not have made any difference.
When he reached the back of the store, he stopped as his eyes were drawn to a large colorful poster hanging on the wall. The psychedelic letters were large and decorated in the archaic Art Nouveau style. If he didn’t know any better, he could have easily mistaken the sign for an old rock festival poster from the sixties. He walked closer to read the details and instantly knew it was no Rock Festival poster. Beltane Festival 2017 - Floriston California — sundown on April 30th, 2017. A rare treat this year — the Feast of Moloch to be performed by the High Priest himself! Ample parking provided on the grounds — gates close at 6:00 PM.
Moloch! He thought to himself.
A shudder went up his spine as he wrote down the complicated directions to the festival.
*****
Much later that afternoon, back at UVid headquarters, Sylvia was sitting in the “Eye Bleach” lounge on one of the overstuffed couches. Lying on the floor in front of her, a young woman was just waking up.
“Better?” Sylvia asked.
“Oh, good God, yes!” the woman said as she opened her eyes. “That was amazing! How did you learn to do that?”
“Years of practice at a very underpaid and underappreciated position back east,” Sylvia said. “It is far more rewarding here. So…, let’s make sure everything worked. Clear your mind.”
The woman nodded and closed her eyes.
“Now, let’s check the locks. I am going to say some trigger words and I want you to gauge your reactions, OK?”
“OK.”
“Stiletto…, Puppy…., Crush…, Laughter…,” Sylvia said.
The woman smiled, shook her head and said, “Nothing. I have no idea what you are talking about, and I know that is a good thing. I consciously recognize these things were related to what was upsetting me, but nothing is happening. It is all clear.”
“You have no ill feelings? You don’t feel sick?”
“Nope, nothing,” the woman said as she stood up. “Thank you again, Sylvia. You are a Godsend. I haven’t slept for weeks and now…, I finally feel free.”
“You don’t remember anything?”
“Nothing! It’s all just a big blank slate,” the woman said. “Locked in a safe, guarded by my late grandfather…, with his shotgun, of course.” She winked and added, “Click… Click… Click…!”
“That’s the ticket!” Sylvia said, “Click…, Click…, Click…”
After the woman left, Heather, sitting beside Sylvia on the couch, said, “Damn, but that is always impressive to watch. You have a real gift.”
“Thanks,” Sylvia said. “I have to admit, this whole crush-fetish thing is just about the worst thing I have ever heard of. Frankly, I would have thought I was beyond shocking, but obviously, the parade of internet perverts continues their long, unending march”
“It certainly does,” Heather said.
“I mean…, who gets off on watching women in high heels stomp puppies to death?” Sylvia asked. “Jesus! I may have to perform my technique on myself now.”
“Yeah, this particular kink is especially heinous,” Heather remarked. “But you know the rule.”
“Yes,” Sylvia said with a sigh. “Rule 34 wins again.”
“It always does. And…, it kind of makes me wonder what your old priest friend is into?” Heather said with a laugh. “You know, it has always been my experience those God boys always turn out to be the biggest freaks. The more vanilla the coating, the spicier the center.”
Sylvia shook her head and sighed. “You need to lay off Hector. I am a pretty good judge of people, part of my training, you know. I did not detect anything weird about him at all.”
“So, it seems you got to know your new boytoy quite well last night,” Heather said. “Those sexy Latin guys are hard to resist.”
“I did get to know Hector quite well,” Sylvia said. “And now I am going to ignore your childish insinuation and stop talking.”
“Oh, you are no fun,” Heather said as she grinned. “But in all seriousness, it does seem like you two had quite the chat. So, did he lay a lot of religious mumbo jumbo on you?”
“No. In fact, much of what he said last night made a lot of sense. He really got me thinking.”
“Oh, brother,” Heather said as she rolled her eyes. “Please don’t turn into some kind of Holy Roller type. You are the first office buddy I have had that was cool. Don’t blow it by turning into a Jesus freak.”
“I’m not,” Sylvia said. “But…, well…, let me ask you something.”
“Ask away,” Heather said.
“Why do you think there is something rather than nothing? It is an astonishingly good question if you think about it.”
“Shit happens,” Heather said.
“This is your cosmological worldview?” Sylvia said. “Shit happens? This is your explanation for the creation of the whole universe and the fact that all sorts of factors had to perfectly align for life to be possible? Shit happens? Really?”
“Sometimes it’s a lot of complicated shit,” Heather said as she smiled. “Frankly, all I can think about right now is the margarita waiting for us at Fred’s place.”
Sylvia nodded. “Yes, I am more than ready! It has been one hell of a day, and I can taste the salt already.” She glanced down at her watch and said, “well…, it is already past six, I guess we should head out.” Heather nodded, and they both walked back to their desks to retrieve their purses. When they arrived, Sylvia’s phone rang.
“Sylvia Marstens speaking,” she said as she answered the phone. She paused and said, “Oh…, it is good to hear from you, Hector.”
Heather, standing to the side, covered her mouth, and suppressed a laugh. Sylvia waved her off.
“Yes…, Yes…, Oh? Well…, I can’t tonight,” Sylvia said. “That is interesting. Really? That is very interesting — now you have me curious.”
Heather really struggled to contain her laughter now, her whole body shaking as she tamped down the giggles.
“But…, how about lunch tomorrow?” Sylvia said into the phone. “Yes…, yes, the same place we went to before, right? OK, I will see you at noon.”
“Well, well, well,” Heather said as Sylvia hung up the phone. “Seems like someone is trying to slip out of his vow of chastity. Girl…, you still got it.”
“Shut up, Heather,” Sylvia said with a laugh. “He says he wants to tell me something relating to Alyssa.”
“A threesome he has arranged, perhaps?”
“Stop it!” Sylvia said as she blushed and laughed.
“Sorry, I can’t help myself,” Heather said. “But, in all seriousness, what did he say?”
“He was a bit vague, but, it seems Hector found out something about Alyssa that has him quite upset. He wants to tell me about it.”
“What was it?”
“I don’t know, he said he couldn’t really go into too many details on the phone. But, he did say something about…, Beltone, or Belfame, or something. I couldn’t really follow him. His accent gets more pronounced when he is agitated.”
“Oh, I bet he is agitated,” Heather said. “I can only imagine what kind of crazy kinks something called Belfoam involves. So, where are you meeting him for lunch?”
“The same Mexican place he took me to last night.”
“Ah…, how sweet, your second date,” Heather said. “Are you going to let him go all the way, or do you save that for the magical third date?”
“Honestly, Heather, you are impossible,” Sylvia said. “Now, let’s go get that Margarita, although I shudder to think what you are going to be like after the tequila kicks in.�
�
*****
Darryl Summers stood in front of the window looking out over the mountain valley below. His face was expressionless, devoid of any emotion. The setting sun cast a severe glare in his face. His eyes, brown and dull, were slightly glassy and squinting in the harsh light. After a few minutes of silence, he closed his eyes and started to speak.
“I don’t know why you wouldn’t listen? We had an agreement. You made a commitment and commitments still mean something in this world.” He paused and added, “If you had just gone through with your promise, none of this would have been necessary. But…, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”
He inhaled deeply and said, “we talked about this! We discussed it! You said you wanted to have an abortion anyway, so what’s the big deal? Won’t this be the same thing?” He shook his head and said, “If you had just been cool. If you had just done what you said you would do. Such a waste! I told you Mom would take them if you ran away again!” He turned from the window, opened his eyes and faced into the darkened room.
On a bed in front of him was Alyssa. Her hands were chained to the headboard. Her mouth was gagged. A single, golden beam of sunlight shone through the window illuminating the pristine white bedspread pulled up to her chest. It glowed blindingly white in the last rays of daylight. All except the foot of the comforter where the material was dark and wet. There the fabric was stained deep red. Alyssa was awake. Her eyes were wide open and she stared forward unblinking into the room. Drool dribbled out of the side of her gagged mouth. She was silent. She had long stopped screaming. There was no point anymore.
Darryl walked across the room. When he reached the door, he opened it but before he left, he turned back and said, “I guess we won’t have to worry about you running away anymore.”
Chapter 24
April 30th, 1976 - Pikeville, Kentucky - 9:30 PM
Father Ted was barely visible on the lawn. Only the faintest outline of his glistening physique was perceptible in silhouette, as the circle of torches cast wild and sinister shadows across his body. Everything was now in place for the ceremony to begin. Long awaited Beltane had come.
The new moon above cast no light, ensuring a pitch-black sky. Located so far from town, the house was completely dark, every light having been extinguished before the ritual began. Maw Maw, as always, prepared well. She had seen that the children were well occupied in the basement, loading them up with a good stock of homemade brownies, all the soda they could ever want to drink and a movie on TV. Kid heaven! They would not be coming upstairs anytime soon, but, she still latched the basement door from the outside — just in case.
The whole assembly was gathered around the circle of torches on the back lawn. All were skyclad, like Father Ted, their bare bodies blurred in the dim flickering light. The orange flames illuminated an undulating pink sea of exposed flesh.
Silence ruled the night. Everyone stood in reverential quiet as even the wind fell to a dead calm. Only the crackle and pop of the torches could be heard in the stillness. All were waiting — patiently, insistently, hungrily anticipating Father Ted’s call to worship. Five minutes passed, and then ten, and then twenty, the tension mounting as each minute ticked by. Finally, Father Ted, his golden baritone voice smashing the silence into shatters, stretched out his arms wide to his sides and began to chant.
“Oh, glorious night above, your pitch-black wraps the sky, the earth awaits your word, wrapped in its dark disguise; arise ye Gods of old, arise ye Prince of lies, arise ye ancient ones, we wait for words of the wise! Arise! Arise! In glorious triumph, we wait for thee to rip the earth and rise!”
“Arise! Arise! Arise!” the naked and sweating crowd sang in unison.
“Behold!” Father Ted shouted as he pointed up to the dark, moonless sky. Every eye followed his hand, peering into what seemed an infinite void above. Even the stars were obscured tonight, leaving a coal-colored firmament overhead and nothing but endless night — a shrill, shrieking expanse of nothingness. “Before the Gods shall rise, we must remember their descent!”
“Tell us, Father Ted! Tell us of their descent!” the crowd shouted.
“Behold!” he cried. “From Heaven he fell like lightning, his glory was brought below, five ebony torches were lit, from the fires of him brought low. Their eternal flames were kindled, from the brazier forever subsumed, with fire that never extinguishes, from fuel that never consumes.” He closed his eyes and added, “Oh, great flames, we bless thee! Bring destruction to your children. Come, come and savor the coming storm soon to envelop the world! Come! Come, my children and savor!”
“Come and savor!” the crowd chanted. “Come and savor!”
Father Ted pulled his hands close to his chest and bowed his head. The crowd followed suit as all voices fell silent once more. After another period of rising silent tension, he began to chant once more, his voice quiet but growing louder with every verse.
“All Hail our Lady of Shadows, profanity is thy name, mother of abominations, cursed is the fruit of thy womb. All hail our Lady of Shadows, profanity is thy name, mother of abominations, cursed is the fruit of thy womb. All hail our Lady of Shadows, profanity is thy name, mother of abominations, cursed is the fruit of thy womb. All hail our…”
At the back of the crowd, swinging and swaying with the rest of the group, her sagging breasts flopping back and forth like two old empty hot water bottles, was Maw Maw. After the ninth verse was chanted, a few in the crowd stopped singing and glanced back in irritation. Something was wrong. The ceremony was not proceeding as planned. Maw Maw too stopped chanting, opened her eyes, and looked over her shoulder. With a whisper, she said, “Sylvia! Sylvia, it is time for you to go up to the front now.”
Sylvia was rigid and stone silent, her eyes opened wide as she stared blankly ahead. Her bare feet were rooted to the earth as if frozen in concrete. Her mouth was bone dry, her lips blue and quivering. Bone-chilling terror gripped her spine. Her breathing was short, rapid, and very shallow.
“Sylvia!” Maw Maw said as she stepped forward and tugged on her elbow. “Everyone is waiting. Come on Sweetie, you’ll do just fine. Don’t be scared.”
Sylvia, operating on pure adrenaline, forced her reluctant feet to move and began to walk. On a tray in her hands, she carried the skeleton she had dressed earlier. Its stark white dress shimmered in the crackling torchlight. A silver bowl was placed between its bony fingers, a golden dagger lay at its feet and glistened in the reflected flames. As she walked, the assembly enveloped her, reaching out to the icon as she passed.
“Send your blessings upon us, our Lady!” one cried out.
“Glory! Glory to you and your sons of dread!” came another.
“All Hail our Lady of Shadows, profanity is thy name, mother of all abominations, cursed is the fruit of thy womb!” shouted another.
When Sylvia reached the center of the ring of torches, Father Ted stepped forward and said, “Who is worthy to approach the altar of abominations?”
“None are worthy!” came the response from the crowd.
“What is the law?”
“Do what thou wilt, is the whole of the law!” the crowd cried.
“What is the price to be paid to our glorious Lady?” Father Ted asked.
“Blood!”
“And what shall be done with this blood?”
“Wash us, our Lady! Wash us in the blood, glorious Goddess of Shadows!”
“Yes…! Yes…! Yes…!” Father Ted shouted. “Wash us, wash us in the blood, our glorious Lady of Shadows! Prepare our bodies to be a living and fitting sacrifice to your sons, our Goddess, and redeemer!” He turned towards Joe and a small crowd of men standing off in the shadows and nodded. Seeing the signal, the men walked towards the woods in silence. Father Ted turned back to the crowd, and said, “Let the whole earth be silent before her, the mother of all abominations!” He closed his eyes and held his hands out, palms up to the sky. The crowd followed suit and silence descended upon the lawn like the heavy firs
t snow of December.
After a few minutes passed, the stillness was shattered by an unearthly screech coming from the woods. A great howl of pain echoed through the air, both inhuman and soul-shredding in its ferocity. Hearing this, Father Ted smiled as he opened his eyes and shouted, “Arise! Arise! Arise!”
From behind Father Ted, a large wooden cross was pushed forward into the air. A great shout of joy erupted from the crowd when it came into sight. There, hanging upside down from the cross beam, and still alive, was one of Joe’s prize pigs. It was an enormous beast, and it shrieked and struggled to free itself from the vast metal spikes driven into its legs. Sylvia, seeing this infinite horror, began to cry.
Father Ted glanced down at Sylvia and winked. “No tears, little one,” he said softly as he bent down close to her face. “I am so proud of you. You are doing just great.”
She shuddered as his hot breath passed over her cheek. Everything about this was wrong - more horrific and evil than anything her mind could comprehend. She could not look at the grisly scene enfolding before her, and yet, she could not look away. Time slowed, and her vision filled with sights of writhing naked worshippers shrieking hoots of joy to the suffering, dying hog above her. She closed her eyes tight but found she could not keep them shut. She had to look. She had to see! She fixed her gaze firmly on Father Ted’s face. It was the only place she could look without seeing that which she knew her young eyes should not see.
His eyes looked back at her and, to her relief, were calm and serene, warm even. He bent down close to her again and whispered, “do you remember what you say next, Sylvia? Remember what I told you? You have to give Our Lady’s instruction.”
Sylvia’s body shook like leaves in a hailstorm but found she had at least stopped crying. She was too frightened for tears now. There would be plenty of time for tears later. She nodded and robotically said the words he had taught her earlier, “Oh great High Priest, our Lady demands you shepherd her people properly, according to the ancient ways. Wash them, Priest. Wash her people in the blood.” She lifted the tiny white clad skeleton into the air and added, “Take this knife and prepare the harvest. Take this bowl and fill it. Make your offering of sin for the people of shadows.”
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