A Place So Wicked

by Patrick Reuman

  When he ventured back inside was when things began to take a turn for the weird. The church was of moderate size. It wasn’t massive, but it was large enough that you couldn’t take in its entirety in just one single glance. He ventured around, looking at the murals and art, the remnants of a time long past. History had always fascinated him, and the church seemed to possess one entirely in its own, separate from the town that had grown up around it.

  He wasn’t sure where his mom had gone. He craned his neck, trying to see around all the people scattered throughout the main chamber. But if she were there, she was lost amongst the crowd. So he continued on his exploration until he reached a door that stood off to his right side from the main stage where the pastor would give his sermons. He, of course, wasn’t sure where it led, but what he did know was that he needed to use the bathroom. And beyond this door seemed as good a place as any to house a bathroom. So he gave the handle a turn and pushed it open.

  On the other side of the door stretched a hallway. This was mildly disappointing as it meant he had to search further to relieve his bladder. Pictures wrapped by golden frames lined the walls as he walked slowly, checking for a bathroom symbol on all of the doors as he passed. Within these frames were colored photos and, in some, black and white photos. He wasn’t a whiz when it came to clothing trends throughout history, but what he could tell was that some of these pictures were very old, their clothes looking like something you would see in a documentary about the Middle Ages or the Renaissance. But that was impossible, or at least he was pretty sure it was.

  He reached the end of that hall, arriving where another grew off it, only this one was much shorter and ended at a singular door. Eli stood there, staring at it, at the strange designs that covered its front. Suddenly there was a noise, and he turned to his right, back in the direction he had come.

  “You!” a man in full religious garb shouted. “Stop right there!”

  In came two more, charging closely behind the first. Eli had frozen, unsure of what was happening, of what they looked so angry about.

  “You aren’t supposed to be back here!”

  “I—I was just looking for the bathroom.”

  When the man reached Eli, he grabbed the boy’s arm firmly, almost painfully. The man looked up the hall, the way Eli had been looking before their arrival. He looked at the door. Then he looked back at Eli before glancing again at the door, as if making sure it was still there and Eli hadn’t done something with it.

  Eli watched as the muscles relaxed in the man’s face and a wave of relief washed over him. He loosened his grip on Eli but didn’t let go.

  “This is a restricted area,” he said. “You aren’t allowed back here.”

  He wasn’t allowed back there, Eli repeated in his head as he walked down the sidewalk toward the middle of town. But why? Why would a church have a restricted area? And why had the man seemed so…scared when he found Eli just feet from that door? Perhaps it was nothing. Maybe he was connecting dots where there were none. But there was just something about that man’s face that rushed back to him the night before, because it wasn’t anger with Eli that he saw in it. No. It was fear.

  That’s why he was on his way there now. It all made sense, at least to him, and to Toby. Otherwise the kid, whom he hardly knew, wouldn’t be on his way across town to assist him. They knew very little, but there were some facts that they could all be almost sure about. First, there was something in that basement, something beyond the door. And second, the town wanted Paisley’s family dead. Whatever was going on there, Eli was certain it had been going on for years, maybe even decades or more. If there were a key to that door, and it was hidden somewhere, Eli thought the oldest place in town, the church where there was a secret room, was a good place to start looking.

  35

  The worst part was leaving Paisley behind. He didn’t trust the house, nor anybody else for that matter. It was just her and their sick family there. But he would be quick, and there seemed to be some merit to what Eli had told them on the phone. To access the basement, they needed a key. According to Eli, there was a church near the center of town, a really old church, where they had some sort of secret room.

  That was where the key was being held, they hoped.

  The plan was simple. He and Eli would enter the church separately. It was Sunday, so the sermon would be ending shortly. If Eli were correct, and the key was there, they could assume, at least reasonably, that the people there, the ones that ran the church, knew about Toby’s family, the house, and everything else. So, when they saw Toby come in, all attention would be on him. He just had to soak up all that attention long enough for Eli to sneak in, find the secret room, and get the key. Easy, he hoped.

  If the key wasn’t there…well, it didn’t seem any of them had a backup plan quite yet. They needed it to be there.

  But if the key was there, then what? They hadn’t planned that far in either direction. The only thing left to do, then, was to enter the room in the basement. But that seemed like a horrible plan in itself. What exactly did they hope to accomplish by opening the door? Especially if there were some demonic creature in there. He pushed the thought away. They needed to tackle one thing at a time, and for that, he needed to remain focused.

  Toby saw Eli a way up ahead. Eli had told him of a road, one he could find relatively easily, where they could sort of meet up. Eli didn’t want them to be seen together. All it took was one wrong person seeing them then placing a call to someone else, and their whole plan could be shot to hell. So, as soon as Eli saw Toby coming, Eli started walking, and Toby started following at a distance.

  They walked this way for a while, perhaps fifteen minutes or so. Toby spent most of the time looking down at the sidewalk, only glancing up quickly to make sure he still had sight of Eli. He felt as though everybody was watching him, that each car that passed stared out their windows at him, as if he were an escaped zoo animal.

  Finally, they reached the church. Eli didn’t even look back as he entered through the large doors. But as Toby himself approached, he almost froze. Whatever bravery Eli had, Toby seemed to lack. The doors were large and mahogany, rounded at the top. Around them was a beautiful design, a grand archway standing tall, as if beckoning him forward to their passageway into heaven, or perhaps into hell.

  The door was already open wide enough for at least one person to enter at a time. He gathered himself, remembering why he was there, and how important his mission was, then slipped in quietly. Inside, there were many people gathered, all of them dressed nicely, far more formally than he was. Women wore long dresses that rode all the way up to their necks, completely covering any sign of sexuality that may exist. It was cult-like, Toby thought as he made his way further inside. The men all wore suits, matching ones as if each were a copy of the last, all mannequins in a nuclear town.

  Eli was already gone, disappeared in the waves of people and chatter. As of right then, he was still unnoticed. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting exactly, everybody to turn and face him the moment he entered maybe? For them to point at him and shout, “There he is! There’s the sacrifice!” But nobody even batted an eye as he himself entered the crowd like a boat cutting through the sea.

  He heard bits of chatter here and there, all of it mundane and completely normal, none of it about the sacrifices, or evil creatures hiding in basements. He weaved through the masses, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do now that he was there.

  A woman spotted him. He stopped in place and looked back. He had to keep calm. He smiled and offered a nod. She smiled back and then returned to her conversation. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, wondering right then what Paisley was doing back at home. They were supposed to go to the doctor’s. He hoped he could make it back before they did so, so he could go with them, but he was starting to doubt that was a possibility.

  He finally broke free from the ocean and found himself standing at the edge, next to a row of seating, all of it faci
ng toward the stage. That’s when he finally noticed Eli not far from him, still immersed in the crowd. Then he noticed a door at the far end of the room, not far past where Eli was standing. He could see Eli taking glances at the door but not heading in its direction, not yet at least. He wished he were taller, so he could see over the crowd and get a better idea of what he was dealing with.

  He moved further from the people and tried to get a better look without appearing abnormal. That was it! Toby spotted two men standing maybe ten yards away from the door, near the stage where, just behind them upon the stage, stood a podium where the pastor would give his sermons.

  Toby swallowed deeply and tried to steel himself. This right here, this was why he had come, this was his role, his job, and it was time to act. Without giving himself time to reconsider, he walked forward, straight for the two men. As he passed Eli, he had to slow himself, realizing he was charging at them too quickly, like a dorky kid trying to navigate the high school halls to get away from the bullies.

  Both turned, noticing his approach. Toby smiled fakely. “Hello.” Act normal, he thought, just act normal. He noticed the white patch on the one man’s clothes, just below his neck, on the collar, and remembered that that meant he was a pastor. Toby extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Toby.”

  The man took it and squeezed, but only lightly, and then smiled. “I’m Pastor Rodrick. It’s good to meet you.” He was barely taller than Toby but much older, maybe in his fifties, or even sixties. His hair was pepper colored, but more white than black.

  “You too,” Toby said.

  The other man suddenly said his goodbyes, offered his own shake to the pastor, and then joined the crowd. As the two of them talked, Toby took advantage of the moment to absorb his surroundings. He didn’t like where they were. Even if Toby repositioned himself so that the pastor had to look away from the door to speak to him, he was certain the old man would hear or notice Eli trying to enter the door behind him.

  Toby returned the nod as the second man left. The pastor turned back to Toby with a warm smile. “So, young man, what is it that I can help you with?”

  Toby hesitated, trying to decide what he should do or what he should say. He had to get this man away from the door.

  “I can see the uncertainty in your eyes,” Pastor Rodrick said. “Is this your first time at church?”

  He had gone a few times with his grandmother when he was little, but other than that, it was. “Sort of,” he said.

  “Ahhhh, I see. I’ve seen many a young man in your position, wondering about God and his wonders. Well, you’ve come to the right place. Were you here for the sermon?”

  “No, sorry, I wasn’t.”

  “It’s all right, young man. Better late than never.”

  “I—I was actually hoping to talk to you about something, maybe in private.”

  This lifted the pastor’s eyebrow. “Well, I suppose that is what I’m here for.”

  Toby waved toward a spot further from the door, near the opposite end of the stage, where few people were. But what was special about that location was that it would put the crowd, sort of, in between them and the door, hopefully masking some of the sound Eli may make. The pastor agreed and followed Toby to the corner.

  “I’m sorry to bother you.”

  “It’s quite all right!” the pastor said. “I promise you.”

  It was time. He was going to throw himself under the bus. He was going to ensure that this man’s attention was on nobody but him.

  “Well, you see, my family has been very sick lately, and nothing seems to be helping.”

  The pastor’s smile faded, and he nodded.

  “I’m just not sure what to do anymore. So, I thought, maybe God…I don’t know.”

  “I understand,” the pastor said as he lifted his arm and laid his hand on Toby’s shoulder. “Sickness can be a confusing time, especially when it’s hurting the ones you love.”

  “Yes. You’re right. Thank you.” Toby shifted nervously. “I wasn’t sure where else to go for help. See, we’re actually new to town. We just moved in over on Ripley Avenue.”

  The pastor’s eyes widened with recognition and then seemed to drift elsewhere, through Toby to somewhere else. Toby thought for a moment that the old man was going to pass out. Instead, he took a step back and pulled in a loud, heavy breath.

  “Are you okay?” Toby asked.

  “Yes. Yes, of course. Sorry. Just a little light-headed for a moment there.”

  Eli couldn’t believe what Toby was doing. It was exactly what he was supposed to do, but seeing it happen, seeing it in action, was a whole new thing. Like it was nothing at all, Toby had walked over to the pastor and started chatting him up. Then, a minute or so later, Toby led the pastor away from the door.

  Eli looked in every direction, making sure the coast was clear, that nobody was paying attention to him. Then he hurried, casually, over to the door. He twisted the handle and dipped inside, being sure to close the door behind him this time. The hallway was just as he remembered, portraits lining the walls, a green and gold carpet covering the floor. He wasted no time, hurrying along. He reached the end and rounded the corner. Ahead, he saw the door, the one that man was so afraid he had touched the last time he was there.

  He grabbed the handle, twisted, and…nothing. It was locked. He cursed quietly. Of course the damn door would be locked. He was frustrated, and a little scared, but he couldn’t give up. He could feel his time dwindling. Who knew how long Toby could keep their attention? And if they caught him in there…he didn’t even want to imagine what would happen.

  The key had to be there somewhere. Unless there was another private hallway in the church, then it had to be there, hidden somewhere. There was a door just behind him, right at the end of the initial hall. He would try there first.

  It was an office. Near the back of the room, directly across from the door, sat a large desk. On it were various photographs and paperwork. He rounded the desk. There were a ton of drawers. He had to hurry. He just hoped it wasn’t kept on some keychain that the pastor kept around his neck or something. That would be a disaster.

  He started opening drawers on the right side of the desk. One after another, they were all empty. He closed the last one and took in a breath, trying to steady himself, which was proving to be difficult. His heart was racing. In the corner of the room was a large brown grandfather clock, which ticked loudly against the surrounding silence. Off in the distance, he could hear the low murmur of the crowd talking in the other room.

  Paisley?

  He had to double take at the paper sitting atop a pile on the desk. He doubted what he had thought he had seen. Scanning quickly, he spotted what he feared, Paisley’s name. All their names were there, Paisley’s entire family, one who he had met, Toby, and the others whom he had not. The paper had all sorts of information on them. Where they were from, where her parents worked. Financial information. Everything, it seemed. Paisley’s family was an insect trapped in a massive web. It was as if these people owned their lives.

  There was a row of drawers below the papers. He opened the top one, and his soul nearly leapt from his body. There, sitting up against one side of the drawer, was an old, scraped-up golden key. Its ridges looked worn, its color almost completely faded, as if it were hundreds of years old.

  He wasted no time, grabbing the key from its place. There was a groan on the other side of the door, like the shifting weight of human bearing down on old floorboards, reminding him in an instant of when he used to sneak downstairs for a forbidden midnight snack. He paused, expecting the door to swing open, to have to either rush through the person in front of him or break through the window in the back of the office, neither of which sounded like a solid plan.

  But after a minute passed, still, nobody had come in. The groan did not repeat itself. The person on the other side of the door was either standing very, very still or didn’t exist. And time was running thin.

  He hurried across the ro
om, grabbed the handle, and gave it a swift turn. The other side was empty. He let out a sigh of relief. But it wasn’t over. He saw down to the end of the hall, where churchgoers still conversed loudly on the other side like a storm brewing in the distance.

  Turning, he charged for the door, sliding the key in before even coming to a complete stop. It went in rough, sticking for a moment before the lock allowed the key to pass all the way inside. He questioned in the sticky moment if the key would snap in its age, but it didn’t. He held strong. And with a twist, he heard the quiet sound of the lock clicking.

  The door opened, and a musty smell wafted out. He recoiled by instinct, but it was nothing compared to the stench he had inhaled at Paisley’s house. The door whined as he opened it the rest of the way, like the hinges were ancient machines whose gears had not been touched by oil in a millennium. Beyond was unbridled darkness. He reached for a light switch but found none.

  That left his phone and the flashlight app, which didn’t give him a mountain of confidence. He pulled it out and lit the room with a wide beam of dull light. It barely reached the back wall of the small, surprisingly empty room. There were portraits in there, too, but it was too dark for him to make out what was framed within them. Dust floated about in front of the light’s beam as he walked toward the back of the room.

  There was a lone, short wooden stand, with a glass front, the light from his phone reflecting off its dirty surface. He crouched in front of it and aimed the light inward, but the weak beams struggled to pass through. Eli flashed the light around the room. It appeared that this stand was the room’s sole inhabitant.

  He grabbed the small circular knob. The door stuck for a moment but released its grip with a strong tug. A small cloud of dusted wafted out at him, clearing quickly. He flashed the light inside.