Ash Return Of The Beast Part 34

The Doppelganger's finger touched the old man's forehead and began tracing out a circle, slowly searing the Lucifer Seal into the pastor's pallid skin, burning it from the inside, out. "Hear me, O Lucifer! Son of the morning! Approve this invocation with the seal of my Master! Thy will be done! Aum-Ha!"

Pastor Pete's face contorted, his eyes winced and wept from the pain. Thick drool seeped from the corners of the b.l.o.o.d.y mouth that he couldn't open and from which his screams could not escape.

CHAPTER 71.

Moorehouse Manor...

Ravenwood found the light switch beside the door and flipped it on. The only two working bulbs on a large chandelier in the foyer offered a muted light that cast an eerie glow throughout the s.p.a.cious living room.

Kane called out. "Cowl! Come on out! It's over!"

They held their weapons at the ready and waited for a response.

Kane called out again. No response.

They inched forward, scanning every direction. They moved from the living room to the adjoining dining room. The whole place seemed deserted.

They entered the library, took a quick look around and made their way back to the living room. Kane motioned for Ravenwood to take the hall. As she was moving down the long hall, opening doors, checking the rooms, Kane took the stairs.

Ravenwood joined him a few minutes later. "Nothing," she said.

"Nothing here, either. Where the h.e.l.l is that room where we found the urn and all that demonic c.r.a.p? That's where he's got to be, right? That's where he does his ritual s.h.i.t and projects the Doppelganger, right? But where the h.e.l.l is it?"

Ravenwood shook her head. "It has to be on the ground floor but I didn't see anything like it when I checked the rooms off the hall."

Then they looked at each other: The tunnel.

At the center of the Lucifer Seal, surrounded by the dancing light of all nine candles, Rye Cowl sat transfixed, sweating, his heart pounding. His sweet revenge was only moments away. The long journey was about to end. His 'Someday' had arrived.

Deep within the shadows of Cowl's poor distorted soul, the essence of the Beast was waiting patiently for its own moment. The former Rodney Duckworth didn't realize that the glory of his 'Someday' would be short-lived, a mere flicker of light to be swallowed immediately by the gaping mouth of eternal darkness. The musician had sold his soul to the Devil and the Beast was about to take total possession. Whatever Rodney Duckworth had been, whatever Rye Cowl had been, neither would ever be again.

In the black depths of the Underworld, the demons at the Gate were also waiting. In frenzied fits of madness, they snapped and tore at each other like caged animals, starving for food, restless and reveling in visions of carnage. Their release was imminent. They could smell it.

CHAPTER 72.

Trail's End Trailer Park...

The old pastor's weak resolve had given in to the torturous pain of the branding. Now, scarred by the sign of Lucifer's Seal on his forehead, his rotting soul was caving in, crumbling under the weight of guilt and shame.

The righteous Reverend Pete Kane had given up the lives of Sarah, her mother, and everyone else in the world to save his own lifethe same deplorable life he'd tried to snuff out earlier, fueled by the same cowardly motivation: the fear of facing what he knew he had coming.

Now he found himself sinking into a mire of utter confusion. On the one hand, he felt relief that the Beast was going to let him live. On the other hand, he wanted to die. He wanted to die but he wanted to live. Either way would be h.e.l.l. He knew that. But death would surely hurl him into the burning pit of the real h.e.l.l, the screaming h.e.l.l of Dante's Inferno, the G.o.d-forsaken h.e.l.l of the Holy Bible. Oh, yes. He knew it well. For years he'd etched its image into the minds of the sinners in his congregation. He'd reveled in some perverse, ego-inflating pleasure as he watched the sheep shifting uncomfortably in the pews while he blasted them with his h.e.l.lfire-and-brimstone sermons and threatened them with the promise of the agony of eternal d.a.m.nation if they didn't adhere to the rules of the Word. At least now he'd found some form of relief, knowing he'd escaped that very fate for himself. Whatever kind of h.e.l.l on earth was coming at the behest of this hooded creature, it couldn't possibly be worse than the alternative into which he'd nearly cast himself, had the bullet not missed its mark. Besides, the hooded figure had promised him protection... sanctuary, he'd called it. It had been a strange turn of events. Death had rejected him and Life had called him back. It must have been G.o.d's will.

For reasons he could not fathom, G.o.d had granted mercy on his soul. He'd been given a second chance. G.o.d had a plan for him, an opportunity for redemption. But what could it be? It would have to be something enormous. Then a glorious thought filled his head: maybe he was destined to save the world from the Evil that was coming. It was an insane idea and he knew it. It seemed impossible. Still, he reminded himself, The Lord does move in mysterious ways, His miracles to perform. At that moment, the old man understood. It had all been for a reason. Everything in his entire lifein spite of the way it may have seemedhad been leading up to this. That realization sparked a glimmer of hope, a tiny light that was growing brighter with each pa.s.sing moment. The Lord had chosen him for something special. He was saved.

The Doppelganger laughed. "Oh, my dear Pastor Pete. You poor, deluded son of a b.i.t.c.h. Open your bathrobe and close your eyes. This is going to hurt like h.e.l.l."

The old man couldn't move, couldn't speak. He gazed up at the hooded figure. Wh-what? No! This isn't the way it's supposed to be. You promised. You said I could live. You said Even as he was projecting his protests he found himself loosening the belt of his bathrobe and letting the robe fall open against his own will. We made a deal. You said "I lied. You're f.u.c.ked."

What?

"Well, okay, maybe not yet. But you will be. First I have some more decorating to do."

CHAPTER 73.

Moorehouse Manor...

Kane raced down the stairs into the living room with Ravenwood on his tail. He stopped short at the front door, not expecting it to be closed. "Did you shut this door after you let me in?"

"I don't think so. No."

Kane turned the k.n.o.b and gave it a tug but the door wouldn't open. He glanced at Ravenwood and tried again. He checked the bolt. It wasn't locked. He tried again but it wouldn't budge. "Was it stuck like this when you opened it to let me in?"

She shook her head, no. "The window." She moved quickly to the broken window, released the latch, raised it up and crawled out with Kane following close behind.

The Doppelganger's finger slowly and meticulously traced out the sigil of Kutulu upon Pastor Pete's pasty white flesh, burning it from the inside out. Every muscle in the old man's face rippled from the pain. Inside his head, his own stifled screams were deafening.

"Kutulu!" the Doppelganger called out. "Ninth and final Offspring of the Old Ones! Fire of the Earth!"

The old man's wet eyes bulged from their sockets.

The Doppelganger's voice grew louder. "O, sleeping demon! Thou who dost hold the power of all Magick! Soon I will awaken thee! This is your sign! I give you this soul, this sacrifice, knowing thou shalt spare me when thou dost rise from thy slumber!"

Pastor Pete's pulse was pounding, his heart pumping to the point of bursting as he prayed for death.

The hooded figure laughed. "Your prayer is about to be answered, you f.u.c.king little child-molesting maggot. On your hands and knees. Now!"

The darkness of the night seemed thicker than normal as Kane and Ravenwood made their way across the mansion's long back yard, heading toward the garden shed.

Kane took the flashlight and shined it on the shed door while Ravenwood tried to open it. "C'mon," he said. "What's the problem?"

"It's stuck."

"s.h.i.t." He nudged her aside, handed her the flashlight and tried it himself. He pulled the latch with such force it should have torn the door off its hinges. "The h.e.l.l is it with the doors around here?"

Just as he was reaching for the handle to try it again, the door flew open by itself. He jumped back and let loose with a string of curses. He looked at Ravenwood.

She returned the look. "After you," she said.

His foot barely crossed the threshold when a tsunami of rats came flowing outhundreds of the hideous things, crawling over each other, screeching like a horde of tiny banchees. The force of the wave swept Ravenwood off her feet. She let out a shriek. The flashlight went flying as she hit the ground with a swarm of rodents scrambling over her body. Three and four deep, the swarm covered her, crawling over her face, smothering her screams. She flailed her arms and struggled to get up but the rats kept coming. She cried out. "Get 'em off!"

Kane scrambled over to where the flashlight had landed, grabbed it up, ran back to Ravenwood and began swinging it back and forth like a warrior wielding a club, beating the monsters off of her. He seized her hand and yanked her up. Then, as soon as she was on her feet, it was over.

Kane scanned the yard with the light but the creatures were gone, vanished into the night as if they'd never existed.

He suddenly realized he was still holding Ravenwood's hand. He let go and brushed her hair out of her face. "You all right?"

She shuddered. "Yeah, I think so."

"That was f.u.c.king weird."

"Crowley. Had to be Crowley. He's trying to stop us."

"Yeah? Well, we'll see about that," Kane said, drawing his gun. "You ready?"

Ravenwood brushed herself off and drew her own gun. She took a deep breath and let it go. "Like I said. After you."

Pastor Pete expelled his final gasp of life in the midst of receiving his ultimate humiliation. His abused body collapsed under the weight of the Hooded Figure and lay sprawled out on the floor like a wrinkled old dead thing washed up onto a deserted sh.o.r.e.

The Hooded Figure stood up, arms raised victoriously, and then slowly faded into the aether.

At the center of the Lucifer Seal, Rodney Duckworth rose to his feet, exploding with rapture. He laughed loudly as tears of joy streamed down his face. It was a moment of glory beyond anything he'd imagined. Revenge was so G.o.dd.a.m.ned f.u.c.king sweet!

Then he heard a voice inside his head.

Feels good, yes?

Cowl laughed, exuberantly. "Good? Are you kidding? It feels great. I could die right now and I wouldn't care."

I'm glad to hear you say that.

"What?"

You've had your moment as promised, your revenge, your Someday. Now it's time for you to leave.

"Leave? What do you mean, leave?"

Your body... your soul. They're mine, now. You're moving out. I'm moving in. Simple as that.

"What? No!"

Oh yes.

"Wait!"

Say goodbye, Rodney Duckworth.

The old tire swing, hanging from the huge chestnut tree, suddenly swayed gently back and forth in the cool night breeze. Inside the house, Lieutenant Brian Kane's daughter and her mother were asleep in their beds, blissfully unaware of the nightmare that was about to invade their home.

CHAPTER 74.

Kane flipped the light switch inside the shed. The bulb immediately popped and shattered. A shard of the gla.s.s flew at him, drawing blood just above his left eye. He stumbled backward against the wall and something heavy fell to the floor.

More dazed than injured, he pushed away from the wall and shouted a few choice curses.

Ravenwood took the flashlight and illuminated his face to check out the wound. "Lucky. Could have been your eye. Probably was intended for your eye."

Kane stared at her. A week agoh.e.l.l, even just a day agohe would have thought that was crazy talk. He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and dabbed the cut above his eye. "Come on, we're wasting time." He started to move forward.

"Wait.... Smell that?"

Kane stopped. "Yeah. Smells like gasoline."

Ravenwood directed the flashlight to the floor. Gasoline was flowing around their feet. She scanned the floor, looking for the source.