by Tom Mohan
The Serpent felt power building inside of him and gave full control of his movements to Denizen. His hands shot out, sending two of his own fireballs at the girl. She managed to deflect one of them, but the other grazed her exposed left shoulder. She took a half-step back. The hit only seemed to anger her. The two opponents eyed one another warily now as they circled. The Serpent felt the power build in him again, but his master held it in check.
“What’s wrong, Denizen?” the girl asked. “Not as tough as you thought you were?”
The Serpent felt his master’s fury, but he continued to wait. “I don’t think you know what you’re doing, Chemosh,” the Serpent said as Denizen’s words flashed across his mind. “The one you follow is meddling with a power beyond his understanding.”
The girl laughed. “Beyond his understanding? Really? No, I don’t think so. Once the gate opens, this world will be ours—just like it once was.”
The Serpent noticed a change in the way the girl spoke and knew it was her master, Chemosh, doing the talking now. He really had no idea what Chemosh and Denizen were talking about, but it didn’t matter. He just wanted the power Denizen gave him. The less he knew, the bigger the adventure.
“Do you truly believe the Bene Ha’ Elohim will leave anything of this world for us? If released, they will annihilate every living thing on this planet.”
The girl shrugged. “So? Isn’t that what we’ve been trying to do since the Ancient One first put them here?”
“Do you forget so easily, Chemosh? The Bene Ha’ Elohim will not be satisfied with the simple destruction of the worthless humans. If freed, they will not stop until they have enslaved us as well.” The Serpent launched a fireball. He waited the split second it took the girl to shield herself, and then launched another, this time at her feet. With inhuman speed, she leapt into the air, but the blazing ball of light caught the tip of her foot and flipped her over. She spun in mid-air, but couldn’t avoid the next attack. The Serpent’s flame caught her in her right side. The room filled with a guttural scream and the scent of burned flesh. She hit the floor hard, groaning as her body convulsed.
The Serpent approached his injured opponent. “Is that really the best you could do, Chemosh?” The Serpent felt Denizen’s laughter and joined in.
“You can’t kill him,” the girl whispered. “He won’t let you.”
This, at least, the Serpent understood. He had been trying to kill John Burke for some time now. He had thought this would bother Denizen, but his master allowed that he had suspected as much. The Ancient One was protecting John Burke. But the reason such a being would take an interest in a worthless piece of garbage puzzled the Serpent.
The Serpent shrugged. “Just because I can’t kill him doesn’t mean he can’t die. Besides, all I really have to do is keep you and your friends from taking him.”
The Serpent smiled down at the dying girl. He enjoyed the look of terror on her pretty face. Reaching beneath his jacket, he pulled out the hunting knife he had used to kill and behead the rich kid. What fun that had been—nothing like an unexpected side job to keep the night interesting. Until this chick had come along and messed it all up, of course. Oh well, the game continued.
He squatted down beside his foe and saw her eyes begin to glaze over. “Oh, no you don’t. My master took you this far, but you die by my hand.” He took a moment to enjoy the sudden knowing look that came over her face. Then, with a flick of the wrist, he slit her throat. He could have toyed with her longer, but that would have been cruel. The Serpent did not consider himself a cruel person.
The girl’s master, Chemosh, fled his now worthless skin with a shriek of rage. The Serpent always loved that part. He turned away from the body and stood, stretching his back. The day had been both productive and physically strenuous.
“Well now, Mr. Burke. What to do with you?” He watched as the lump of filth that was John Burke squirmed, trying to zero in on where the Serpent’s voice was coming from. Just for kicks, the Serpent tiptoed around to the other side of the handcuffed man. “Oh Johnny…” he said. He couldn’t help it. This guy was just too easy to mess with. And, besides, with as much trouble as Burke had given him over the past weeks, the Serpent figured the man had some teasing coming to him.
Well, Master, what now?
You have done well, my son. However, Chemosh was not much of an opponent.
Compared to you, Lord Denizen, who would be?
The Serpent heard grim laughter. Do not grow overconfident, my son. True, I am powerful, but you are still human. While I may vanquish my enemy, I cannot guarantee that you will survive.
I live but to serve you.
More laughter. You are very special, for a human.
The Serpent swelled with pride at his master’s rare compliment. It meant much to him. He felt Lord Denizen begin to speak again for a moment, but then he fell silent. The Serpent pulled his mind away from the intimate contact and sent it out away from where he stood. There. He sensed what Denizen must have felt already. The servant of the Ancient One was near. The Serpent did not know just what this servant was. It seemed different from his master and the others. He had never sensed anything like it until the previous morning when it had ruined his experiment to see if John Burke could kill himself. Whatever it was, it was an enemy. The fury that coursed through Denizen at its presence told him that much.
We can do no more here. Leave…now!
The Serpent jumped to obey Denizen’s harsh command. The rage in his voice commanded immediate action. The Serpent could not hide his uneasiness. Something lingered just beneath the maddening hatred radiating from his master; something he had never sensed before.
Fear.
Burke breathed a sigh of relief as the footsteps faded and he heard the door open and slam shut once again. He lay in complete darkness, his own breathing loud in his ears. The old church building felt ominous, like a living thing hovering over him waiting to pounce. He had hated this place since the night of the disappearances. What had brought him here now? Something unnatural.
The sudden squeal of the door hinges announced someone’s arrival. Burke forced himself to quiet his breathing and listened as soft footsteps entered the building.
“Burke, you in here?” came a familiar half-whisper. Officer Martinez? Burke saw a flashlight click on and move around the room before settling on him. Martinez hurried to his side.
“What happened?”
“I’m not sure. I remember you yelling at someone in my house. The next thing I know I’m being shoved in a car with another lump on my head.” He looked around. Except for Martinez’s flashlight pointed at him, the room lay in darkness.
“We’ll talk about your house later. There’s some weird stuff going on here.” He started to rise. “Can you stand?”
Burke shifted on the floor, but without his hands he was helpless. “It would be easier without the handcuffs.”
“Forgot about those.”
Martinez helped Burke to his feet and turned him around. Burke felt a couple of tugs on his wrists, and his hands were free. He rubbed his raw wrists. “Oh, that feels so good.”
Martinez grunted and swung the light to the body lying about ten feet away. “You couldn’t have done that with cuffs on.”
Burke glanced at the body before turning away. “There was someone else here. They seemed to know each other.”
“Catch any names?”
Burke thought back. “Her name was Kayla, but the other guy called her something else, too. Chemosh, I think. Kayla called the guy Denizen, or something like that.”
“Ever see either one of them before?”
Burke shook his head. “Never. How’d you know where to find me, anyway? Kayla said she lost you on the way over.”
“Long story. I’ll tell you about it in the car. Need to get someplace where I can call these bodies in.”
“What exactly do you plan to tell them?”
“Haven’t figured that out yet.”
; Burke thought he saw the cop shiver. Something had the big man spooked.
Burke looked around the shadow-filled sanctuary. “I’m surprised this place is still standing,” he said. Martinez slowly moved the light around the large room. Thick dust covered everything, including the cobwebs strung everywhere. Burke glanced at the floor, noticing that the dust had not been disturbed in a long time. “I can’t believe the homeless haven’t moved in here.”
“They say no one can stand to be in here for long.” Martinez’s deep voice, muffled by the layer of dust, reverberated off the walls.
“Sara, my daughter, had come home all excited after coming here with a friend. I tried to discourage her, show her how ridiculous religion is, but she wouldn’t listen. I wanted to tell her about…well, never mind. Anyway, Laura decided we needed to check the church and pastor out. She was worried it was some kind of cult, worried about the kids, but I was always too busy. Never really listened to her.” His words trailed off. He had finally told Laura to check it out herself. She did, and that night neither of them came home. By ten he had grown worried and gone out looking for them, but he couldn’t find the quaint little church. He drove around and came back to the same place where a group people milled about pointing excitedly at some old run-down building. At first his mind failed to make the connection between the decrepit old building and the pretty church he had so recently seen.
Burke forced his mind back to the present. “I still can’t help wondering why I was brought here.”
Martinez shook his head as he moved down the aisle toward the altar. “Has to be some connection to the events of four years ago. Too much of a coincidence.” He turned toward Burke. “Still waiting for that story you’re supposed to tell me.”
Burke almost laughed. “Yeah. Like you said, it’s a long story. I think you’re right, though. This has something to do with what happened.”
“You know,” a voice said from the darkness, “he’s pretty smart. He might actually believe your story. But then, it would help if you believe your story.” Burke recognized the voice of the little girl.
“Don’t do that,” Burke said. “You about scared me to death.”
“What?”
Burke turned to Martinez. “You didn’t hear her?”
“Hear who?”
“The little girl. She just said you might believe me if I told you what was happening.”
Martinez shook his head. “No one here but you and me.”
Burke blinked. “I just heard her plain as day. She’s in here somewhere.”
“He can’t see or hear me,” the girl said.
“What?”
“What?” Martinez repeated.
Burke saw movement in the shadows to his left as the little girl stepped into view. “There.” He gestured. “She’s right there.”
Martinez turned in the direction he pointed, but the look on the cop’s face told him all he needed to know.
“You don’t see her, do you?”
Martinez gave him a look that said he definitely couldn’t see her.
“Tell him Katrina would understand,” the girl said.
“Who’s Katrina?” Burke asked.
“What about Katrina?” Tension gripped Martinez’s voice.
Burke looked back and forth between the two, not sure what to do. Finally, he said, “The girl says that Katrina would understand. Do you know what she’s talking about?”
Martinez stared at him, eyes wide. “My wife’s name is Katrina. How do you know about her?”
Burke shrugged. “I’m just repeating what she said. I didn’t know your wife’s name. What does she mean, ‘Katrina would understand’?”
Martinez sighed. “My Trinny, she knows things. Says angels talk to her. She’s the one who told me to come here. Both my handheld and car radios were dead. Even my cell wouldn’t work, but then the cell rings and it’s Trinny telling me whatever I was looking for was here at the church.”
“Your wife talks to angels?” Burke almost laughed. “Maybe I’m not crazy, then. Or not the only one.”
Martinez’s face hardened. “Don’t you ever say nothing like that about my Trinny, you got that? She’s a good woman, a godly woman. If she says angels talk to her, then you can bet your sorry butt they do.”
Burke raised his hands in front of him. “Hey man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything. It’s just good to know I’m not the only one with weird things happening to them.”
“Are you two about finished?” the girl asked.
“Do you know why I was brought here?” Burke felt incredibly foolish talking to a person that only he could see or hear, but he needed answers.
The little girl smiled up at him, her tangled red hair like a lion’s mane around her head and shoulders. “The reason Kayla brought you here and the reason you came here are two different things. She brought you to fulfill one purpose, but you really came to fulfill another.”
Burke gawked at such philosophical reasoning coming from a four-year-old.
“I’m older than I look,” she said.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Martinez said. “What’s the ghost saying?”
“She says,” Burke began, and then shrugged. “I don’t have a clue what she’s saying.”
“And I’m not a ghost,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.
Burke threw up his arms. “And she says she’s not a ghost.”
“Oh?” Martinez said, his lips almost curling into a smile at Burke’s discomfort.
“You know, this would be a lot easier if you could see and hear her, too.”
“You think?”
“Come over here, behind the altar,” the girl said.
The altar rested on a stage two steps high. Burke climbed the stairs and approached the large table that took up most of the center of the platform. As he neared the table, the ghost-that-was-not-a-ghost disappeared behind a curtain at the back of the stage. He motioned for Martinez to follow as he approached the spot where she had vanished. When he reached the curtain he drew it aside, revealing a concealed door. He knew from the many times he had returned here in hopes of finding some answer to his family’s disappearance that this door led to a small office. The door creaked as he opened it. A musty wave washed over him as the long-trapped air escaped its prison. Martinez’s flashlight revealed nothing but dust covered furniture and cobwebs. Burke turned his attention to the floor, but the dust lay undisturbed. Nothing indicated that anyone had entered the room in years.
“Someone forgot to call the cleaning lady,” Martinez said as he peered into the room.
“I saw Red come through here.”
“Ah, her name’s Red, is it?” Martinez shined his light on the dusty floor. “She has a light step, but then what else would one expect of an imaginary friend?”
“She has red hair, so…you know. Red seems as good a name as any.”
“I was just asking.”
Burke moved farther into the room. The cop’s flashlight fought a losing battle against the darkness in the windowless office. Burke reached for the flashlight and Martinez gave it up, willing to let him take the lead for the time being. As the light crossed the room, it lit upon Red standing before a pair of ancient oak file cabinets. At first, Burke felt a strange sense of relief at the sight of the little girl. Her intent and anguished gaze, however, turned that feeling to dread. She held his eyes with her own for a few seconds, and then turned and disappeared into the file cabinets, leaving no trace she had ever been there.
Burke pulled open a couple drawers in the cabinets. They were empty. A quick check of the rest of the drawers yielded the same results. He grabbed one of the cabinets and tried to move it, but it proved too heavy for him to slide on the worn carpet. “Give me a hand, will you?”
Without question or comment, Martinez grabbed one side of the cabinet while Burke pulled from the front. After moving it a couple feet, Burke hurried to inspect the wall behind it. If there was anything to find, he was missing it. He shi
ned his light on the back of the cabinet, but again, nothing. He signaled the other man, and they strained to shift the second cabinet, but disturbed only dust.
“Any idea what you’re doing, or is this a ghost thing again?” Martinez asked.
“I…she vanished into these cabinets. Just walked right through them. I thought there might be something behind them.”
The cop grunted, studying the area with a trained eye. “If not behind, how about beneath?”
Burke gazed at the floor where the cabinets had rested. “Yeah, how about it?” The two men moved the cabinets further out of the way. When they’d cleared the area, Burke knelt down and ran his fingers between the wall and the carpet’s edge. “Carpet isn’t tacked down,” he said as he pulled it back, exposing the wood floor beneath. “And look at this.” He traced a faint line with his finger. “It looks like this portion comes out. See if you can find something to pry it up with.”
Martinez reached into his pocket, pulled out a pocketknife, and flipped out the four-inch blade. “How about this? You think the old friar stashed the offering in there?”
“I think someone stashed something in here.”
“There’s wisdom for you.”
“Okay, okay, just pop this open, will you?” Burke moved out of the way as Martinez wedged the edge of the knife into one of the narrow cracks and pulled back. One side of the panel lifted about an inch, and Burke slipped his fingers beneath it. Together they managed to lift and slide the piece of floor out of the way. Burke grabbed the light and stabbed it into the hole. All he could see was the top of an old wooden ladder that disappeared into the darkness below. He stuck his light as far down as he could reach and could just make out the rough dirt floor at the bottom.
“It’s a tunnel.”
“That a shoe?” Martinez asked.
Burke lowered his head as far as he dared into the hole. “Not just a shoe. Looks like there’s a whole body…or what’s left of it. Male, from the clothing. Been here awhile.”
“About four years?” Martinez asked without thinking. As soon as the words were out, he caught his mistake. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”