The Suicide Lake (Book of Shadows 2)

by Michael Penning

  Duncan’s eyes grew wide and frightened as he progressed through the rite. “Save your servant, who trusts in you, my Lord! Let him find in you a fortified tower in the face of the enemy. Let the enemy have no power over him!”

  The demon spread its drooling mouth and laughter came out in a voice that wasn’t of this world. It was deep and soulless and conjured images of innocents being burned alive. Peals of thunder exploded in the night. Lightning came down all around them. Still, Duncan’s voice swelled in intensity. “I command you, unclean spirit! Along with all your minions now attacking this servant of God, that you tell me by some sign your name!”

  Something happened.

  Samael’s mocking laughter died away. In its place came an anguished, bloodcurdling wail.

  Abigail’s confidence soared. It was working! The exorcism was working!

  “I command you to name yourself!” Duncan shouted again over Samael’s infuriated shrieks.

  Then—very suddenly—the demon squeezed its right palm around the head of the spike and pulled against it with inhuman strength. The hand came free with a gruesome sound of ripping flesh as the spike tore through the demon’s fist and remained embedded in the earth.

  “It’s breaking loose!” Abigail cried, overcome by a sickening wave of panic.

  Within seconds, Samael had pried the other spike from the ground and was free.

  Duncan staggered back, the words of the exorcism now forgotten as the thing that used to be Carnes rose to its feet. The demon’s blood-rimmed eyes glared balefully at him as it surged forward, reaching for him with bloody, claw-like hands. Seizing Duncan by the throat, Samael lifted him from the ground and squeezed hard on his windpipe. Duncan’s eyes bulged in their sockets and his face went a horrific shade of purple as he gasped for air.

  Abigail knew then that all was nearly lost. No exorcism would work; only one option remained. She still had Colvin’s pistol holstered on the belt she wore around her waist. It was loaded and ready to fire. A bullet to Carnes’ skull would expel the demon. Without an earthly mind to possess, it would be banished back to hell. But if she missed, she would have squandered her only remaining chance.

  “Samael!” Abigail’s voice suddenly rang out.

  Lightning exploded overhead, drenching the demon in a frenzy of white and purple. Its head revolved around slowly and its hideous eyes seemed intent on setting Abigail ablaze

  With a squeeze of the trigger, she sent a lead ball roaring straight through Carnes’ skull.

  The demon abruptly released its grip on Duncan and he fell to the ground, gasping for air. Blood poured freely from the gaping hole in Carnes’ forehead. With a horrific shriek, the demon threw back its head and billowing stream of crimson smoke burst forth from the bloody hole in its skull. The cloud hung in the air for a moment, coiling and swirling like a thing alive while the remnants of Carnes’ tortured body fell to the side in a lifeless heap.

  Abigail shrank back and stared up at the swirling mass. It had worked! She’d done it!

  Then the crimson smoke shot straight at her.

  Chapter 51

  The impact picked Abigail from the ground and hurled her backward. All at once, she felt the demon’s presence inside her, boring into her thoughts, unearthing her most hidden fears. A terrifying blackness descended on her mind and an awful wave of despair washed over her from within. Darkness pervaded her thoughts, urging her to surrender her will as she withered under Samael’s crippling influence.

  Abigail summoned all of her resolve and fought against the malevolent presence poisoning her mind. Somewhere in the recesses of her consciousness, she knew that if she didn’t act immediately, she would succumb to the all-consuming sense of hopelessness. She couldn’t resist much longer; she had to do it now. She couldn’t let herself be overcome by Samael, couldn’t allow him to lead her into drowning herself in the lake.

  Even as the demon filled her thoughts with despair, Abigail’s hands fumbled to reload the pistol. Somehow, she had always known her life would end like this. She would sacrifice herself so that others may live, just as her mother had done long ago. Without warning, a long-forgotten memory flew into her mind. She saw her mother beneath the gallows tree in the haunted Northern Woods of Salem. She heard the echoes of her mother’s desperate cries as she begged for Abigail’s life...

  Abigail raised the pistol up, pressed the muzzle to her head, cocked the hammer. This was the only way to stop herself from setting the demon free...

  Her mother’s voice stopped her.

  Come to me, Abigail...

  Abigail heard the plaintive call in her head as clearly as if her mother were standing by her side.

  I am lost, Abigail... It is dark, and I am so very, very cold...

  Abigail’s gaze went to the black waters of the lake.

  Her mother was there, somewhere far beneath the icy surface.

  I gave my life for you, my daughter... Now you must rescue me...

  No! Abigail felt the irresistible pull of the cold, black waters and knew it was the work of Samael. The demon was deceiving her, calling her to her own doom. And yet, she was powerless to resist! Samael’s influence on her mind was too powerful, her thoughts too poisoned by the overwhelming sense of hopelessness. All she wanted was release, to find comfort in her mother’s embrace the way she did as a child before that terrible night when her mother had been taken from her. Dread filled Abigail’s soul at the awful inevitability of what was to come. She knew she would follow her mother into the lake and release the demon from its prison of flesh.

  Unless...

  Abigail’s trembling finger tightened on the trigger.

  A simple squeeze would end it all.

  No, my daughter! Your fate lies here with me, down in the dark, dark depths...

  Abigail closed her eyes and curled her finger.

  Just then, the pistol was knocked from her grip.

  Abigail’s last conscious image was of Duncan standing over her, silhouetted against the frenzied spectacle of the lightning. Then her thoughts succumbed completely to the will of the demon inside her. Trapped in her own mind, she saw herself seize Duncan and hurl him away, sending him crumbling to the rocky ground.

  Her mother’s pleas came to her again.

  Come to me! Find me below the surface!

  Abigail turned toward the lake.

  Its terrible pull was magnetic, overpowering.

  She gave in to it.

  Yes! Come to me!

  Abigail saw herself stalking across the rocky shore. She felt the frigid bite of the water as she waded deeper and deeper.

  Up to her ankles...

  Knees...

  Waist...

  Come! Come to me, daughter!

  The lake bed suddenly fell away beneath Abigail’s feet. Endless darkness engulfed her as she sank below the surface. Icy water filled her lungs and a terrible numbness constricted her chest. There was a moment of serenity, of transcendent oblivion.

  And then, there were strong hands upon her.

  Abigail felt herself shoot upward with a spray of water as Duncan caught her and dragged her kicking and shrieking back onto the rocks. Enraged, her hands flew at him as she thrashed on the shore. She raked his face with her nails, drawing blood and tearing away skin. Duncan weathered the savagery of her assault as he fought desperately to bind her ankles with the purple stole he had retrieved from Carnes’ corpse.

  But the demon within her was too strong.

  With a bloodcurdling shriek, Abigail aimed a powerful kick at Duncan’s chest and sent him splashing backward into the lake. Lurching to her feet, Abigail heard her mother’s furious cries roaring in her head.

  Kill him, my daughter! Kill him before he kills you!

  From the prison of her own mind, Abigail witnessed herself advancing. Her hand stretched out and wrapped around the sharp surface of a heavy stone. She drew to a halt, towering over Duncan as he lay sprawled and sputtering in the water. Her old friend’s eyes fille
d with fright at the sight of her. Unable to stop herself, Abigail let loose a silent, heartbroken scream even as her hand rose into the air, raising the stone high over her head.

  Do it, my daughter! Crush his skull! Do it now, now, now!

  Abigail was helpless to resist.

  Do it! Kill him! Kill him for me!

  With a great and terrible blast, a jagged shard of lightning suddenly spiked from the sky and struck Abigail’s upraised fist. The searing blast of the current coursed through her body. Her muscles seized, constricted, spasmed with convulsions. Her veins simmered as a white-hot agony lanced through her mind, obliterating her thoughts. The moment of weakness lasted a fraction of a second.

  It was all Duncan needed.

  He launched himself bodily at Abigail, tackling her to the ground and flipping her onto her stomach so that he could press the weight of one knee into the small of her back. Abigail writhed and thrashed violently beneath him as he looped the length of Carnes’ purple stole around her ankles and cinched it tight.

  Duncan stood, leaving Abigail bound and shrieking wildly by the water’s edge. Her skin blazed in scorching agony as he doused her with holy water. Over the ear-piercing fury of her enraged screams, Duncan’s voice rose strong and clear, reciting the words of the exorcism. “Almighty God, I beg you to keep the evil spirit from further afflicting this servant of yours, and to keep it far away, never to return!”

  Abigail felt the infuriated presence of Samael raging within her as Duncan went on. His voice thundered at a fever pitch, commanding the demon to surrender and leave her body. She flailed madly, kicking her legs and clawing at the ground in an effort to drag herself across the rocks to the lake. A voice that wasn’t her own spilled a torrent of tortured wails from her gaping mouth. Every command that Duncan pronounced seemed to scald her with the searing intensity of molten iron.

  The demon was weakening, losing its hold on her mind.

  Without warning, a scorching rush surged up Abigail’s throat like bile.

  Her head fell back and she opened her mouth to let it out.

  A churning cloud of crimson smoke shot into the air.

  Light spilled across Abigail’s mind as if through an open door. She was suddenly in control of herself again. She rolled onto her back and looked skyward. The crimson cloud whirled like a vortex above the turbulent waters of the lake. Thunder crashed and lightning shot through the swirling, blood-red mass. Faster and faster it accelerated, picking up speed, intensifying until it could no longer keep itself together. With a thunderous roar and an explosion of water that sprayed a geyser high into the air, the dreadful shadow of Samael plummeted into the lake and vanished beneath its roiling surface.

  Exhausted, Duncan dropped to his knees and collapsed by Abigail’s side. The pages of the Rite of Exorcism fell from his fingers and splashed into the water. As the ripples moving across the lake subsided and became no more, Abigail took her trembling friend into her arms. Time became meaningless as they lay together on the rocky shore, too weak and wasted to move. Sharing each other’s comforting warmth, they remained there until dawn, when the violence left the heavens and the sun rose like a torch over the mountains.

  Epilogue

  The heavenly aroma of roasted turkey filled the humble country cottage. Beeswax candles and oil lamps illuminated the rooms with a lively orange glow. A cheerful fire burned on the hearth. Beyond the walls and windows, the late November chill swept over the darkened fields and promised frost in the morning. But inside the old home, it was delightfully warm and comfortable.

  From his seat at the head of the dinner table, Jonas Hobbes let his hungry eyes wander over the Thanksgiving feast spread out before him. The turkey glistened a golden brown and overflowed with rosemary stuffing as it sat, ready to be carved, on a platter at the center of the table. Steam rose from bowls heaped with delicious sweet potatoes, cranberries, and roasted parsnips. A basket of cornbread, fresh from the oven, lay covered beneath a towel. On the sideboard, the spicy scent of a warm pumpkin pie heralded a sweet and tantalizing dessert.

  A sense of serenity came over Jonas as his gaze traveled from the food to those who had gathered around the table. His entire family was there. At his right sat Emily and Duncan. To his left, his two grandsons were eyeing the food hungrily. His new dog, Timber, was curled quietly and contentedly in a corner.

  And at the opposite end of the table, sat Abigail.

  Jonas’ gaze lingered on his adopted daughter for a long while. As was her way, Abigail appeared reserved and distant, smiling mildly at the conversations happening around her but sharing little of the family’s merriment. Jonas had long ago grown accustomed to her demeanor and had learned to accept it for the sake of their relationship. For the moment, he was just relieved to have her safe from harm and seated with them at his table.

  Three days had passed since Abigail and Duncan had returned to Salem. The sight of Emily’s tearful reunion with her husband would bring a smile to Jonas for a long, long time. In the days that followed, Duncan had taken his time describing the dreadful events that had taken place at Tahawus. Having defeated Samael at Lake Tear of the Clouds, he and Abigail had made the long trek down from the mountains and rejoined the villagers at the tiny outpost of North Hudson. There, they had received the happy news that Hannah Gill had survived her injuries and was slowly recovering. Even so, her encounter with the demon had left the poor girl with a terrible legacy. The damage to her eyes was irreparable; she had been stricken blind.

  With the help of Ned Fitch and a few of the other men, Duncan had made arrangements for the refugees from Tahawus to travel to Fort Ticonderoga where they would be sheltered from the war. Owen Delaney and the other men who had stoned Abigail were not among them. Shunned by their former neighbors, they had scattered to the winds shortly after arriving in North Hudson. No one had seen them since. Duncan had been glad to hear it. He had no desire to see what Abigail would have done had her path crossed theirs again.

  The way home had been long and grueling. Chauncey Beck had done a formidable job navigating his coach over the rough backcountry trails, but early snows made the journey even slower and more exhausting. At last, they had arrived in Salem.

  As they all now joined hands around the dinner table for the blessing, Jonas gave thanks to the Lord for their safe return. “Our Father in heaven, we give thanks for the pleasure of gathering together for this occasion...” He kept his head bowed and his eyes closed as he continued with the prayer. When he was done, he reached for the butcher knife and began carving the turkey. Warm juices flowed from the tender white meat as he piled slices onto the waiting plates in turn.

  “We’ve plenty to be grateful for this year,” Jonas said while the others helped themselves to the contents of the steaming bowls. “But the thing that I am most thankful for is having this family together again under my roof.”

  The sentiment brought smiles to those seated around him and inspired Emily to offer her own gratitude. “I am thankful that my husband has been returned to us.” Her hand sought out Duncan’s and gave it a loving squeeze. Then her gaze went to Abigail and their eyes met. “And for the brave kindness of my sister.”

  A warm feeling blossomed in Jonas as he watched the silent exchange between the two women he had once called his girls He smiled and moved on. “Duncan?”

  Duncan didn’t need time to think about it. Swallowing a mouthful of stuffing, he looked across the table to his two young boys. “I am thankful to have such strong and courageous sons to have kept their mother safe and protected while I was gone. I pity the unwitting creature that would dare cross the path of these two terrors!”

  At this, Duncan hunched his back and bared his fingers like claws, snarling in imitation of an attacking bear. The boys broke into delighted giggles and started firing at him with invisible rifles from across the table. Duncan let out a gasp, clutched at his chest as if wounded, and played dead.

  The laughter subsided and the attention now turned
to Abigail. For a moment, she kept her head bowed and said nothing as she picked at the food on her plate.

  Jonas peered at her from across the length of the table. “Abigail?” he prodded gently.

  Another moment passed.

  Then, with a deep breath, Abigail looked up and they were all startled to see tears welling in her clear blue eyes.

  “I...” she began to speak but faltered.

  The jovial smile faded from Jonas’ face. “What is it, Abby?” Never had he seen her so emotional. It worried him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I...” Abigail’s voice quaked and she went quiet again. An instant passed as she struggled with her emotions. “I... I never thought it would happen. I never thought I would be telling you this...”

  Jonas’ concern for her swelled. A nervous knot tightened in his gut. “Telling us what, Abby?”

  A slow and wistful smile came to Abigail’s lips in spite of the tears rolling across her cheeks. “I am thankful for the baby growing in my belly.”

  Don't miss out!

  Click the button below and you can sign up to receive emails whenever Michael Penning publishes a new book. There's no charge and no obligation.

  https://books2read.com/r/B-A-WIMK-KFBIB

  Connecting independent readers to independent writers.

  About the Author

  Michael Penning is an award-winning screenwriter and bestselling author of horror and suspense. He is an avid fan of Halloween, haunted houses, and things that go bump in the night. When he’s not coming up with creative ways to scare the hell out of people, he enjoys travelling, photography, and brewing beer. He lives in Montreal with his wife, daughter, and black dog, Salem.

  Read more at Michael Penning’s site.