Army of Angels

by Marcus Brown

  She hadn’t felt this happy in months and was sad when he told her he had to go.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow. Sorry I have to rush off, but I’m late meeting Liam, and after that I need a stiff drink.”

  “Armadillo for two, is it?” She enjoyed the banter with him.

  “Piss off you.” He smiled and winked. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” He kissed her goodbye and headed out the door.

  As soon as she heard the door close, she burst into tears.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Samantha walked through the house, taking in the familiar, yet alien surroundings. It felt good to be back home, but the walls felt like they were closing in on her. The memories too much to bear at times.

  Late at night, she would get out of bed and walk around the grounds, leaving the property and venturing as far as the stables at the end of the lane.

  She took comfort from the wide-open spaces, the grass blowing gently in the breeze and remembered what life used to be.

  Once upon a time, she had a family, a husband and a son who loved her. She’d loved them both in return but allowed what she had to slip away.

  She’d never admit it to another living person, but it was only now she questioned if it had all been worth it, just for the sake of having a child of her own. Yes, she got the child she wanted, but he was cruelly taken from her.

  The pain of watching her beloved child die was like nothing she had ever experienced, and no matter how long she walked the Earth, she doubted anything ever would match the pain of losing him.

  Samantha cast her thoughts back to that terrible night, shutting her eyes as Mark swung the spade, ending her life there and then.

  Within seconds, she was falling, the feeling of helplessness washing over her.

  She hit the ground with a thump and opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings.

  It was indescribable.

  The vast landscape before her a barren wasteland. She’d imagined hell to be a place of dark beauty, but nothing could be further from the truth.

  Flames roared from the ground and rivers of lava flowed past her.

  She stepped away, terrified her dress would catch fire.

  Moloch appeared before her.

  With a nod of his grotesquely shaped head, a stake cracked through the ground.

  Another nod and she was bound to it.

  Channels formed in the dirt beneath her feet.

  The lava was now dangerously close.

  “No, please, Master, anything, but this. Send me back. I won’t fail this time.”

  Moloch walked toward her and pushed his face to hers. She could smell his breath.

  He pushed his black, scabbed tongue into her mouth, and believing she could seduce him, responded and pushed her own tongue into his mouth.

  It appeared she’d played right into his hands as he latched onto her tongue with his razor-sharp teeth and bit clean through it.

  He drew back, laughing mercilessly as he spat the detached portion of her tongue into his scaly hands.

  “Do you really think by seducing me I’d forget?”

  Samantha writhed in agony. Blood pumped out of her mouth.

  She tried to speak but couldn’t form the words.

  Terrified as he approached again, he waved her tongue in front of her face. “Open your mouth, and eat it,” he ordered.

  She shook her head.

  “Open your mouth.”

  She groaned her response.

  “Do not make me ask again, or your cherished child will suffer alongside you.”

  Believing Luke was now in Hell, she did as he asked, unable to stand the sight of him suffering any more than he had already.

  She opened her mouth.

  He popped the fleshy part of her tongue back into her mouth.

  “Now, swallow it.”

  Samantha had no choice and swallowed.

  “And now, onto business.” He clicked his fingers and the page from her Grimoire magically appeared. “I believe we made a pact, of which you failed to deliver on. Am I right?”

  She nodded her head again.

  “The price for your failure was quite clear, and it’s signed in your blood, is it not?”

  Samantha nodded her head.

  “Then, no more need be said.”

  She looked down, the lava perilously close. Kicking the dirt under her feet to try and stop the flow, he laughed, the noise echoing around the vast emptiness.

  It happened in seconds. The hem of her long skirt caught fire. She groaned, unable to scream, but it was too late. The flames travelled quickly, burning her as they rose higher and higher. Seconds later, she was consumed, her hair burning away and her skin melting. Opening her mouth to scream, no sound escaped her cracked and burning lips.

  She melted like a wax candle. Blood poured from her wounds and in her madness, she banged her head against the stake, eager to end her own suffering.

  Moloch would ensure she suffered for her failure.

  Time and again her body would be burned beyond recognition.

  The flames would finally die down and her broken and charred body would begin to heal itself.

  A moment’s reprise was all she lived for before the flames engulfed her once more, the whole process on a loop.

  “Was having a child of your own really worth this, Samantha?” Moloch teased her daily.

  She couldn’t answer him, but even through the pain, the precious moments spent with her darling son made everything worthwhile.

  “All this pain and suffering you’ve endured, just for the chance to live as a human would.”

  She detested him and welcomed the day Juliet would find a way to free her from his torment.

  She could still remember the unbearable pain of the flames, as they licked her body. The memories spurred her on. If she could survive that, anything was possible.

  If Juliet could rescue her from the fires of hell, she’d find a way to bring her son back from the dead–it was all that consumed her thoughts and was the last thing she thought of as she returned to her bedroom and slipped under the silk sheets.

  Samantha dragged herself out of bed the following morning, still tired after her late-night wanderings.

  Time was precious.

  She glided down the grand staircase, spying the crate in the corner of the hallway.

  The dolls always knew when she was around, as the whispering would intensify before her foot hit the bottom stair.

  Juliet strolled out of the kitchen. “Good morning, Samantha,” she said almost joyously. “Did you sleep well?”

  “My morning would be a lot better if those infernal dolls would stop their whispering.” She wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries today. “Why don’t you tell them to keep quiet?” she complained.

  “My, my, somebody got out of bed on the wrong side this morning.”

  “Their constant whispering disturbs me, Juliet.” She snarled her words. “Do something about them, or I will.”

  “I’ve been rather busy of late, sister.” Samantha knew Juliet didn’t like to be criticized and watched as her eyes narrowed. “But, if it makes you happy, I’ll do it now.”

  “Thank you.” She felt ungrateful. “Please don’t think I’m not grateful for everything, but I’m anxious to get started. If you’re right and there are children’s spirits bound to these dolls, it’ll make everything else so much easier.”

  “I bound the spirits to the dolls myself. Trust me, it'll work out just fine. Where do you think Maisie’s doll came from? You don’t think Luke and I went toy shopping for that little bitch, do you? I didn’t bring you back to lose you again.”

  “What did you do to that doll, Juliet?”

  “I cast a spell on it. For as long as the doll was in this house I could see what was happening. Luckily for me, when Mark put Maisie’s eyes inside of it, it was much easier. A stroke of genius on his part, unintentional as it was.”

  “Don’t talk of him in my presence,” Samantha hisse
d.

  “You still love him, don’t you?” Juliet guessed. “After everything he did, you still love him.”

  “I can’t forget what he did for me.” Samantha couldn’t lie to her sister.

  “Your emotions are wasted on him. Too quickly you forget what part he played in your suffering.”

  “I warned you he would sacrifice himself to protect her, and he did. I knew he loved me but being a father to her was the most important role in his life.”

  “Yes, and I should have foreseen that myself, but I admit, I believed you were in control of the situation.”

  Samantha glared at her sister angrily. “Choose your words wisely, Sister.”

  Juliet looked warily at her sister.

  Samantha knew Juliet was the stronger of the two, but she was always in charge, her rage was more potent than any power Juliet wielded. Their own father had been scared when she lost her temper and the only way he could control her was with blood.

  “It is not my intention to anger you, but I must speak as I find. You failed our master, and it is now up to us both to ensure we do as he wishes. To fail again would be the end for the both of us.”

  “I let my feelings get in the way of what I had to do once before, but it won’t happen again. I assure you of that.”

  “Come on, help me unwrap these,” Juliet ordered. “I need to get them into the garden.”

  “What do you intend to do with them once we get them in the garden?” Samantha was still unsure what part they would play in the coming days.

  “Adam is going to procure our own little army.” Juliet rubbed her hands together.

  “What does that mean?” Samantha looked unsure.

  “To cross realms, Moloch requires thirteen innocent souls. We have one already, so twelve more are needed.”

  “I will not stalk this town stealing children,” Samantha declared. “What if we’re caught?”

  “We have Adam to do that for us.”

  “And if he succeeds.”

  “Then I will do as I have done to Adam and Sandra, binding them to this house until they are needed.”

  “Twelve missing children from one town will raise eyebrows, Juliet.”

  “Yes, but what other choice do we have, Samantha? We have to do it, or we will burn for eternity.”

  “I know we don’t have a choice, but I wish there was another way.”

  “Are you getting sentimental in your old age?”

  “Never,” Samantha barked.

  “Then the well is about to become rather busy. When the time comes to bring Moloch forth into this world, the sacrifices are ready for him to feast upon.

  Samantha giggled and clapped her hands, excited by what was to come.

  “Where do we start?”

  Juliet’s eyes glazed over. “We’ll begin with the snooping fat pig I told you about. I’m sure Sandra will appreciate his company.”

  “I forgot how truly wicked you were, Juliet.” She reached for her sister’s hand. “Truly wicked.”

  “I learned from the best,” Juliet replied.

  “Now, come. It’s important we finish by nightfall. Tomorrow morning we’ll have a little piggy come to visit.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Andrew Hope was sat at his desk, daydreaming about early retirement. The sudden ringing of his desk phone startled him.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve got a lady on the phone for you.” His colleague advised. “She says it’s about Promised Land Lane.”

  He rolled his eyes. In the last few days, he’d received several phone calls saying Sandra had been spotted in various places around town, and all the sightings turned out to be false.

  “Oh, here we go again. Put her through.” There was a pause on the line as the caller was transferred to him. “Detective Chief Inspector Hope speaking.”

  “Good morning, Detective. My name is Debbie Jones.”

  “What can I do for you, Debbie?”

  “That lady reported missing, you know the one that was on the news.”

  “Sandra Miller.”

  “Yes, that’s the one.” She paused. “Well, I might be wrong, but I was driving down Promised Land Lane earlier. I swear I saw her.”

  “Really? What time was this?” He didn’t know what to think any longer. This case had turned out to be the bane of his miserable existence.

  “About forty minutes ago. I was heading to the stables and she was walking down the middle of the road. I almost ran her over.”

  “And you’re sure the person fitted Sandra Miller’s description?”

  “I’m positive, although she seemed a little worse for wear.”

  “If you don’t mind, could I get some contact details from you. I’ll head over there to have a look around and call in to see you later, if that’s okay?”

  Andrew took her contact details and typed them into his mobile telephone.

  “No trouble at all. But, so you know, I was close to that haunted house when I spotted her–she was heading that way.”

  “Thank you for your call, Debbie. I’ll be in touch sometime this afternoon.”

  “My pleasure, Detective. I hope you find her.”

  “Me too. Bye for now.”

  Andrew hung up the phone and jumped out of his seat. The office was empty, so he’d have to go alone. Suited him if he was honest, especially if it was only going to turn into another wild goose chase. He grabbed his coat from the backrest of his chair and hurried out the doorway.

  “Do you think he fell for it?” Samantha asked.

  “Hook, line and sinker.” Juliet smiled, pleased with her performance. “This little piggy is ours.”

  “And so, it begins.”

  “Yes. He’s all ours, but soon enough, we’ll add more to our small collection. Summon Sandra from the well. We may need her.”

  “What help can she be?”

  “He’s coming all this way to find her, so it’s only fair he should find what he’s been searching for all this time.”

  Samantha headed for the garden and called from the doors.

  “Mabel, we have need of Sandra.”

  She heard the little doll jump down and scurry across the garden.

  Juliet waited patiently. “Is it done?”

  “Yes, she’s coming.”

  Seconds later, they heard footsteps from the back of the house.

  Sandra walked through the doorway and stood in front of them. She looked deliciously macabre. Samantha had performed a spell, halting any further decomposition.

  “What do you want?”

  “You’re going to help us, and if you don’t, your friend Hilary will pay the price.”

  “I won’t do it,” Sandra replied, defiantly.

  “Oh, you will, or I’ll bring your friend here and make you watch as I burn her alive,” Juliet warned. “The quicker you learn to obey us, the easier it will become for you.”

  Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks.

  “Crying won’t help you either. Now, when the doorbell rings, you’re to answer it, but do not speak to the man until I give you permission.”

  “You summoned me to answer the door?”

  “Of course. Bring him inside and do nothing else.”

  “Who would be foolish enough to come here?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “I won’t harm anybody, no matter what you threaten me with.”

  “You won’t need to.” Samantha smiled knowingly at Juliet. “Sister, go to the kitchen and sharpen the pruning shears.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Andrew drove slowly down Promised Land Lane, keeping one eye out, just in case.

  Sick to the back teeth of the lane and its residents, he wouldn’t care if the cursed place was wiped from existence. More time had been wasted here than any case he’d ever worked on.

  Positive this latest trip was another waste of time, he hadn’t even bothered to call it in. He’d been the butt of too many jokes in the station o
f late.

  This case had taken over his life and he desperately needed a break.

  It would be too easy finding Sandra Miller here after all this time, but if he was honest, nothing would surprise him anymore.

  He slowed down as he approached number six. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with Juliet Oswell today and felt a headache forming behind his eyes. Despite this, he was eager to get what he guessed would be a difficult conversation out of the way.

  Perhaps he’d go and see his boss and request a much-needed holiday. Surely long service leave was well overdue, and the way he was feeling right now, he doubted he’d ever return.

  Andrew pulled up outside the large gates and sluggishly climbed out of the car, throwing his mobile phone onto the front passenger seat. It’ll all be over in a few minutes.

  The snotty cow that lived there would huff and puff, threaten to complain to his boss, then ask him to leave, until the next time he was forced to go there and tolerate her insufferable superior attitude.

  He walked up the path and stood at the front door, preparing himself from the onslaught of sarcasm due any minute and pressed the doorbell once.

  “Get that, will you.” He squirmed as he heard her plummy voice issuing an order. Don’t tell me she’s hired a maid. Poor bitch.

  Footsteps approached the door and as it swung open, he felt his mouth gape with shock. “Mrs Miller. What the…?”

  “Come in, Detective,” Juliet shouted from inside. “Sandra. Be a dear and bring him into the living room.”

  Andrew couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Yes, she looked like she’d been to hell and back, but it was definitely Sandra Miller. He’d stake his reputation on it. “Mrs Miller, are you okay?”

  As instructed, she didn’t answer him but led him into the house and through to the living room.

  “Miss Oswell, what the hell is going on here? If Mrs Miller had turned up, why didn’t you ring me to let me know? Impeding the progress of an active investigation is a criminal offence.”