The Dark Sacrifice: A Horror Novel

by Jay Bower

A black snarling beast like a dog rushed them, stopping just inside the light from the overhead flood. It was larger than anything Patrick had ever seen. Its eyes were a deep yellow and flesh hung from its discolored fangs. It was black with wet streaks along its back. It growled low, a sound like boulders being crushed under an immense weight, as it turned to glare at the three men. Patrick aimed his weapon.

  “Don’t shoot!” Benny yelled. “We need to leave it be, Patty.”

  Doc Bishop shifted, his feet unable to move.

  “Patrick, put it away,” Doc said slowly. “Put it away now before something happens.” The beast snarled, and flesh dropped from its mouth.

  “Patty, I’m warning you. Put the gun away, now!” Benny said again. He shook as he spoke.

  Doc nodded his head. “Now, boy. Put it away. Don’t provoke them and they won’t bother us.” The beast growled louder, more menacing than before. Patrick raised his weapon even at its head.

  The beast lunged to its left and landed on Doc Bishop. “Get it off me! Get it off me!” he screamed. Its fangs tore his shirt, ripping the cloth and gouging deep into his skin. Blood sprayed over its face and Doc screamed. The beast clawed his chest. Patrick aimed and just as he pulled the trigger. Benny slammed into him, knocking him over and causing his shot to miss its mark. Patrick landed with a thud.

  “Benny, what the—” he said as Benny knocked him in the head.

  “Don’t shoot! I told you to put that weapon away!” He flung Patrick’s gun out of reach.

  Doc Bishop lay howling as the beast gashed his chest. Patrick heard the grisly ripping of Doc’s flesh. Blood sprayed as the animal mauled its prey. It grabbed a hold of Doc and swung its head from side to side like a dog playing with a toy. Bloody flesh landed on Patrick’s face and he swiped it away, horrified.

  “Benny, we need to do something!” Patrick yelled. The beast’s growls grew more vicious as its muzzle buried deeper within Doc Bishop, devouring him. Soon, Doc’s shrieks fell silent and the only sound was the beast rooting inside Doc’s chest and Patrick’s deep breathing.

  Benny stood next to Patrick, holding him back. “No, Patty, it’s no good now.”

  “Benny, screw that! We need to kill that damn thing!” he said, darting off toward where Benny had tossed his gun. He found it and turned, aimed, and squeezed the trigger. The shot hit the beast in the side of its head. It roared out in pain, howling louder and deeper. It turned toward Patrick and snarled, muscle, skin, and fabric stuck in its bloodstained teeth. Doc’s fresh, warm blood dripped from its face. Patrick pulled the trigger again before Benny could stop him and he hit it square in the forehead. Its head flung to the side but then snapped back to face Patrick, unfazed. He pulled the trigger again, but Benny hit his arm and forced the shot wide.

  “Damn it, boy, stop!” he yelled. “It must be as it is. You need to leave it alone!”

  The beast approached them, growling. Patrick smelled the stench of blood and innards on its breath. His stomach threatened to revolt. The beast moved slowly, deliberately. Patrick stood, aiming his gun.

  “Screw you, Benny! This thing needs to be put down!” Before he pulled the trigger, a series of howls rose from the darkness beyond and the beast silenced. It cocked its head to the side as another series of howls came in the night. It turned to Patrick again, growling louder, then raced off in the direction of the howls, answering the call with one of its own.

  “Benny, what the hell!” Patrick said. His knees shook. His arms felt like jelly. “Why’d you do that?” He stared at the mangled mess that was Doc. “Oh my God…look at Doc! He’s dead! We could’ve saved him!” Patrick shook, his hands on his head. “Benny, you just stood there and let it kill Doc! When I tried to help, you stopped me. What the hell?”

  Patrick paced in a circle around Benny.

  “Patty, there are things you don’t know. You need to trust me. And Doc, he knew. Bless his soul, he knew. Poor man; he deserved better, but he knew. He tried to warn you. What you saw was a bear, got it?” Benny stood within inches of Patrick’s face. “It was a bear, Patty. Do you understand me? You say anything else, and we’re all in trouble. Got it?” Patrick stood motionless, staring at Benny.

  “Benny, I can’t lie like that. I had a chance to stop it!” he said as he pointed to the bloody remains of Doc on the ground.

  “You will do as I say, Patty, or I promise you, this will not end well,” Benny hissed.

  “I’m not afraid of you, old man. This is wrong, and you know it!” Spit flew from Patrick’s mouth. Benny grabbed his shoulders.

  “Patty, this was a bear, and that’s it. Leave it be. Who are they gonna believe anyway, you or me? You aren’t from here. They know me, Patty. It was a bear, understand?”

  Patrick stood silent, unable to move. Benny walked a few steps away and called in on his radio for back up. Patrick heard him say something about a bear attack. Before long, two cars blazed up, followed by an ambulance. The first officer on the scene hurled when he saw what was left of Doc’s body.

  A teeming mass of maggots writhed and squirmed on the goats, the sound all too familiar to Patrick.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  PATRICK FELT BETRAYED. THEY had a chance to save Doc Bishop, and they let him die as if it was the right thing to do; as if Doc expected nothing less. His gruesome death had occurred a few days before, but Patrick still woke at night in a cold sweat, the horror still fresh. The stench of the mutilated body haunted his dreams. In his mind, he saw the blood spray over and over, and every time, Benny scolded him for trying to stop it.

  All his training, his upbringing, and sense of decency told him he should do something. Part of the reason he went into law enforcement was to be on the front lines to help. Interacting with people and actually making a difference one person at a time attracted him. What Benny had done was against all Patrick’s instincts. He considered filing a complaint or resigning his position, but in the end, he remained silent. He didn’t even tell Meagan about his doubts.

  After the incident, his work relationship had become distant. Benny didn’t joke with him as much as before, and Patrick didn’t rib him for being an old man. They went about their business as if it was a bear that attacked and maimed poor Doc Bishop, Patrick pretending to buy into the lie. He tried to see what he was missing. There were far too many oddities and gruesome happenings to ignore. With Benny accepting it all, Patrick took the subversive route and infiltrated Brownsville’s strangeness, feigning understanding and acceptance.

  “So, Benny,” Patrick said, “are there any more bears I need to watch out for?” It was three in the morning and they were grabbing a quick bite at Blue Moon Burgers, the only twenty-four-hour restaurant in town. Patrick squinted in the bright lights when they walked inside. Benny gave him a stern look at the question and didn’t answer as they waited at the counter for their food. A trio of college kids sat in the dining room drinking sodas and talking about the upcoming Apple Festival. The restaurant smelled of grease and bleach as the overnight crew cleaned the place in between orders, which came sporadically at this hour.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Benny said with a wink to the older lady at the cash register.

  “No, thank you, Benny. Be careful out there tonight, will ya?” she said, handing them their order.

  “Will do,” Benny said as they turned to find a table. Lately their meals were awkward. Patrick took on a more serious tone since Doc’s death and Benny didn’t want anything to do with it. They ate in silence, only talking about work.

  They sat in a booth near the kids, Patrick facing them. He watched carefully. Most people were sleeping at this hour, and who knew what they were capable of. The scar on his chest itched and his hand reflexively went to the wound before jerking it away when he realized what he was doing.

  “Patty, there might be a few more bears out there yet,” Benny said. Patrick almost choked on his burger. He didn’t expect Benny would actually say anything about it. “What, you didn’t think I’d t
ell you about them? I suppose you need to know something before you crap your pants some other night. I can’t have that. It’s not professional.” He chuckled. Patrick didn’t say anything. Eating his burger, he alternated his gaze between the kids and Benny.

  “You don’t need to worry about them, son; they ain’t gonna hurt a thing. Isn’t that right, boys?” Benny said loud enough for the kids to hear.

  “Umm, no sir, we aren’t,” one of them replied. Satisfied, Benny turned to Patrick.

  “Now, what do you want to know about the bears, huh?” Patrick looked down at his tray, unsure what to say. “Well, they’re real,” Benny said. “They are as real as you and me. They will clean your skin right off your bones, too…them or the maggots, that is. But,” he paused, “but they won’t hurt you if you don’t try to hurt them. If you leave them alone, they’re just fine. If you shoot another one like you did, they will go all crazy in the brain and cause destruction.” Patrick didn’t look up.

  Benny ate his fries as the silence grew louder between them.

  The kids got up and left in a commotion, leaving their trays on the table. Patrick watched them, careful to avoid Benny’s gaze.

  “Patty, you need to listen to me. You have to be careful. You will encounter them again at one point or another, and you need to know how to handle ‘em. I’m trying to do you a favor. The least you could do is look at me!” He slammed his fist on the table and Patrick, against his will, peered into Benny’s bloodshot eyes.

  “You mean like you did for Doc? We could have saved him, you know. I don’t care what that thing was. We could have done something. Maybe it’s time you retire, Benny.”

  Veins pulsed on Benny’s forehead. He didn’t say a word for several moments. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, menacing.

  “The next time you see one, it might be too late. I tried to warn you, ya damn outsider.”

  Patrick felt the blood rush to his face, his clenched fists resting on the table.

  “What are you going to do, hit an old man?” Before Patrick could reply, one of the kids ran back inside, blood on his face.

  “Oh my God, please help! My friend…he was attacked! Hurry!” His shirt was ripped and his arms were gouged, the claw marks visible.

  “The bears!” Patrick said instinctively.

  He and Benny jumped from their booth, knocking over a soda. Patrick hesitated but Benny yelled at him. “Damn it, boy, come on!” They ran out into the cool, dark night.

  There was only one other vehicle in the parking lot. Its headlights were pointed toward a dark wooded section to the side of the parking lot. One of the other boys stood there, calling out his friend’s name.

  “Jacob! Jacob! Oh my God, Jacob!”

  Patrick ran to him and the boy pointed toward the woods.

  “Your friend…Jacob is his name? He’s in there? What happened?” Patrick asked.

  The boy tried to speak but only muttered, “Dog.”

  “Go back to the restaurant. Stay there until more officers arrive, okay? Go on, get in there!” Patrick shouted. The boy didn’t move. “I said go!” Patrick yelled in his face. The kid turned and ran, almost knocking Benny over in the process. Patrick took off into the dark woods.

  “Patty, no! Don’t go in there! Remember what I told you, boy, don’t try to harm it!”

  Patrick’s legs carried him faster than Benny’s did. He was not about to let one of these beasts kill another victim; not on his watch. Benny called to him, but the adrenaline rushing through Patrick drowned the words. The outer edges of his vision faded to darkness, narrowing to a point. He had to save the kid. He wouldn’t let the beast do to him what it did to Doc.

  “Jacob! Jacob!” he yelled as he entered the thick stand of trees. He jumped over fallen trees and ducked and crashed through limbs and lower branches, searching for any trail to follow. Soon he found a wide enough swath of broken limbs and crushed underbrush to follow, hoping he’d get to Jacob before the beast did. He followed the path, searching for the menacing yellow eyes of the beast. His gun was drawn in spite of Benny’s warning.

  The kid had to be alive. The thought remained as he rushed through thorn bushes and low hanging branches, scraping his arms and legs, barely feeling the lacerations as he pressed on.

  In the center of a small clearing, he found the boy sprawled beneath the trees, his chest moving up and down. Relieved, Patrick wiped his forehead. He’d made it in time.

  “Jacob,” he said as he moved closer. The boy drew in quick, shallow breaths, turning his head at Patrick’s voice. When he caught Patrick’s stare, he turned his head toward the side of the clearing, and Patrick spied the yellow eyes staring at him from the darkness.

  Without hesitation, he lifted his gun and pointed it at the beast, pulling the trigger. The eyes disappeared. He shot again and again, hoping he’d hit the thing, then rushed to the boy.

  “Jacob, are you hurt? I’m gonna get you out of here! How many of those things were there?” He remembered hearing several howls out at Doc’s. For all he knew, they surrounded him.

  With a shaky voice, Jacob replied, “Just the one.”

  Patrick nodded.

  “Can you walk, Jacob? We need to get out of here before its friends come.”

  Jacob tried to get up and fell on his back. “No, I don’t think I can. It grabbed my leg and dragged me here. I think it might be broke,” he said. Patrick felt Jacob’s legs, and when the boy screamed as his hands went over a hole in his pants just below the left knee, he knew it was.

  “Okay, that’s not a problem. I’m going to get you out of here. No way am I leaving you here. Got it?” Patrick said. Jacob nodded.

  “Benny, this is Patrick. Can you hear me?” he called into his radio.

  A couple clicks of static and he heard the familiar old voice reply, “Yeah, Patty, I hear ya. You all right? Did you find the boy?”

  “Yeah. His leg might be broke. I think a bear got him.”

  Silence came back over the radio. Finally, Benny replied. “Is that so? That why I heard those gunshots?” Patrick winced. Benny’s voice came over the radio again. “Is it still there?”

  “No, I took care of it…I think. Benny, I need help. He can’t move, and I don’t think I can get him out of here by myself. Not with the threat of more bears around.”

  “All right, Patty, I’ll get to you. Where are you?” Patrick had no idea where the trail took him. He thought for a moment and then turned his flashlight on.

  “Benny, go straight in where I did. About thirty feet in, you’ll find a path on your right. Follow it and look for my light. I don’t know how far back I am. Maybe a hundred yards? Hurry.”

  “I’ll be right there. Just remember what I told ya and you’ll be fine. Don’t go acting like a hero, got it?” Patrick clicked off the radio. He looked around, half expecting to see several pairs of yellow eyes staring back at him. They were gone, but he didn’t feel any better.

  Jacob moaned. He lay on his back with his hands over his face trying to stay as still as possible. No matter how they’d get him out of there, Patrick knew it would be painful for the kid. Patrick didn’t know Jacob, but that didn’t diminish the need to ensure his safety. Whatever the creatures were, he wasn’t going to let them run things. He would not bow down to them like Benny did. His job—his calling—was to serve and protect.

  He heard a sound from off in the distance. “Benny?” he called out. “Benny, we’re over here!” he shouted, swinging his flashlight from side to side.

  Then he saw the eyes. The beast leapt and crashed before he could pull his gun. It pinned his arms down, eyes locked with his. Drool dripped from its mouth onto Patrick’s cheek. Sharp teeth were bared above him, its breath warm and putrid as it growled. The weight of the great beast crushed his body. He was rendered motionless. He expected it to start burrowing into his chest, like the horrific scene with Doc Bishop, and he braced himself against the inevitable.

  His thoughts turned to his family. Mea
gan and Noah holding hands flashed in his mind. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I failed you. I was supposed to protect you.”

  He heard a loud commotion and turned to Jacob. He caught just a glimpse of movement before Jacob went silent.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  PATRICK WAITED TO DIE. He felt the cold call of death luring him. In the darkness, he could barely make out the features of the beast above him, but its weight paralyzed him and the drool dripping from its fangs sickened him. He closed his eyes. Meagan and Noah’s smiling faces beamed at him. He wanted so badly for a better relationship with his son. One reason he’d agreed to move to Brownsville was his desire to spend more time with Noah, and now as the cold dark tendrils of death loomed, he felt like a failure. He couldn’t save Jacob, and now his life slipped away at the claws of this nightmarish beast.

  Something moved near him. The beast must have called to the others. Soon, he would be mutilated and devoured by the pack. He felt faint.

  “Let him go,” a voice hissed. The hair on Patrick’s neck and arms stood on end. The voice was smooth, dangerous; the voice of the devil. Slowly, the beast eased the tension and raised off Patrick. Blood rushed to his hands and the air in front of him cleared.

  “Go and find the others. He is mine,” the voice hissed. The beast snarled and loped off into the darkness.

  A shadowy figure stood near him, a shade blacker than the darkness. It glided across the ground.

  “Get up, you worthless maggot. Get up,” it hissed.

  He hesitated. He was hoisted off the ground by an unseen force and suspended in front of the figure.

  “I told you to get up,” it growled. “Don’t ever delay when I order you, worm.”

  A dark, misty being faced Patrick, its features obscured by the surrounding night.

  “Why are you interfering with my minions?” it asked.

  The force holding Patrick relaxed and he caught himself on his feet, not wanting to anger the thing. Patrick couldn’t speak. This wasn’t real; it was impossible.