by David Kempf
There was no trick of the mind’s eye here, there were people, dead people and they were fucking in a circle all around them.
“I’m going to take on you two gents next,” said the woman. “I don’t think this boy’s going to take long to cum.”
“Christ,” said the doctor.
Somewhere in the house, Bill was laughing…
“Can’t that damn piece of junk do anything, Lionel?”
“I can’t get to it now, Christian!”
The woman walked up them and smiled. The two men were wearing expensive suits, McDowell wanted to look good. Dr. Brown dressed modestly for a man of his income. She unzipped their trousers and pulled out their cocks. They got hard real fast during all of this excitement. It was daunting not look down and compare whose manhood was more imposing. She jerked them off and they screamed like banshees in horror at their uncontrollable arousal. The two survivors shot their loads on the filthy floor.
“Hi, my name is Lois, it’s nice to meet you gentlemen.”
Bill W. remained invisible but his voice was heard all through the house. He let out a noise that was more of a snarl than a laugh.
Lois stared down at the floor at McDowell’s coin, it was covered in blood and cum but she picked it up and handed it to him anyway.
“Oh dear God,” he said, holding the coin firmly in his hand. “I started drinking very heavily after I survived this house the first time. Now I am mad and I want a drink.”
“Dear God,” Lois said. “What have I done?” She looked ashamed. Lois looked for something to cover her naked body with but there was nothing in sight at the moment.
“You were under his spell, Lois,” said the doctor, zipping his pants up. “We all are, it’s not your fault.”
“He humiliated me in life just as he continues to do in death. I have no relief ever.”
Bill gave his distinct laugh.
“That’s strange… didn’t the drunken asshole embarrass her enough when they were alive?” McDowell said strongly.
Lois was weeping uncontrollably now. “I believe people are basically good, this is not who I am…”
“Darling, just making us even for a little of my 13th stepping….”
“Bill, please…”
“Fine, my dear… goodbye….”
The lady vanished and so did the orgy crowd, the ghosts from yesteryear.
“I don’t believe anything I’m seeing here, Lionel.”
“Hold on to that coin, Christian.”
McDowell squeezed it tight with all of his fingers.
“How long have you been sober?” Brown asked.
“Twenty years last month, twenty years…”
“Good for you, sir.”
“Intermission….”
“What the hell does he want from us? Why are we frozen?” Dr. Brown asked.
“This is what I can figure out so far… He spared me when he saw my twentieth anniversary coin. He will unfreeze us. I don’t think he would go to all of this trouble just to kill us. This could be some kind of test…”
“Why would he treat his wife like that, Christian?”
“Even their Stepping Stones house was full of scandal; it stank of the occult and witchcraft. At the bare minimum they performed séances and that was well known. And Lois put up with all of this adultery, the alcoholism, the drug use. I don’t think she was some sweet innocent martyr like they believe in the program. That’s just a myth. If they talked to the dead in public life, they could have raised the dead in secret.”
The mirror lit up again, the eerie dark blue and grew larger than it was before. It made a sound like the gates of hell would open up soon. Now it was almost talking, screaming, it made them feel like they were going mad.
The face of the infamous Bill Wilson came out the mirror, he walked right out. It was him, that was obvious but he was in a transparent form and he released them from their frozen state of paralysis.
Both men looked down at their feet again to make sure that they still had them.
“Just like in life, people can see right through you Mr. Wilson,” said the doctor bravely.
“I’m so pleased you’re sober, Mr. McDowell….”
“I was only an alcoholic for a few months after you killed my wife, Wilson. Then I joined A.A. because it’s the only thing there is…”
The ghost rolled its eyes at McDowell.
“This, this…. coin stands for something….” He squeezed it again and held the twenty-year charm out in front of the ghost. Wilson took two steps backwards like a vampire would from the sight of a crucifix.
“Everyone knows praying in a circle is against Christ and church orders, its pagan, its occult, its witchcraft. What kind of Catholic am I praying in a damn circle?” McDowell said.
“What kind indeed….”
“Christian, please don’t upset it.” Brown pleaded.
“Say something, Wilson,” McDowell said loudly.
The fiend starred at the anniversary coin with an odd fascination.
“What about you doctor…”
“I don’t drink very often…”
“Drunken orgies forever here….”
“What do you want from us?” Dr. Brown persisted.
Bill vanished.
“He’s gone,” McDowell said.
“Some doors should never be opened. We made a terrible mistake coming here,” Christian McDowell said.
The recovering alcoholic stared again at his disgusting coin. The doctor began to walk around, to enjoy his new freedom of movement. McDowell soon did the same. It was a claustrophobic atmosphere. The mood changed for the better. Their leash was longer but they still could not believe their eyes because what they had seen was simply impossible. The disappearance of their host made them question reality again. Was this a delusion?
“Is it possible we were drugged before we came here?” asked the doctor.
“I suppose it could be.”
“And we’re seeing the same visions?”
“Perhaps, Doc.”
“You’re an alcoholic, right?”
“Recovering.”
“Did you have a problem with narcotics as well?”
“No.”
“So you never tried any drugs that would make you hallucinate?”
“Well, once or twice. Why?”
“Then we could be on L.S.D. or mushrooms or….”
“It’s very unlikely we would be seeing the same things. I don’t think we’re sharing the same pipe dream here. This is real.”
“Wilson wasn’t interested in drugs, he was interested in booze and sex,” Dr. Brown said.
“No, Bill used L.S.D. in experiments to attempt sobriety. It was supposed to open the mind for spiritual possibilities. There were other members of his A.A. flock who grew deeply concerned over his abuse of it. Still, it’s not addictive. I think he took everything to the extreme and that includes hallucinogens.”
“We are not in some sort of dream or hallucination at all.”
“I hope you’re right, doc.”
“We walked into something else.”
“What?” McDowell asked.
“We walked into certain death.”
McDowell felt lightheaded with fear.
“Christian, I know where I am but I don’t know why we’re here from Bill’s perspective. This is how the world really is; most people don’t get to see this hidden part. You’ve got to help me fight this thing.”
“All I can say is that we’re dealing with a particularly vicious demon, doc.”
“Yes.”
Christian McDowell stared, once again at his beloved coin. He knew somehow it was the key to all of this but he just didn’t know how. He had to think straight. The goal was to survive the night.
“Are we in Hell?” asked Dr. Brown.
“Yes, I believe we are.”
“I was trying to make a joke,” Brown said, they continued to walk around in circles.
“Hell is a place
where reason doesn’t exist, this qualifies.”
“Your coin may set us free, Christian.”
“Until I figure it out, I don’t see how…”
There was a moment of silence where the two men seemed to be experiencing some relief from the horror they found themselves in now. Then suddenly, without warning Christian McDowell ran as fast as he could to the front door where they came in. McDowell knew the door was already closed but he had to try. He pulled on the knob, banded on the door and screamed. The door would not open because some doors would never close once they were opened. Some doors should never be opened. McDowell felt as though the gates of hell had closed behind him with a clang.
“Damn it!” the only survivor of the house screamed again in frustration.
“What the hell are you thinking?” the doctor said.
“The walls are closing in on me, doc. I want to go home.”
“Now he’ll come back and he’s going to be pissed…”
But nothing happened.
“He’s not here,” said Dr. Brown, slowly pulling McDowell away from the front door with both hands.
“Yeah but he will be.”
“We have to see what he wants, I have faith in your coin, Christian.”
“When you brought me to Matheson’s house, when you asked me to come along for the ride, you didn’t believe my story did you? You never believed that I was the last survivor of something real, did you?”
“No.”
McDowell laughed.
Brown said, “I mean obviously I believed that there was a fire, that wasn’t up for debate. The fact that people got killed, I knew that to be true. The idea that some kind of ghosts would appear because some nut with a drinking and sex problem did weird things while he was alive….”
“You have no idea the extent of what him and his wife Louis did here was evil.”
“Then why in God’s name did you join his cult to help you stop drinking?”
“Because it was the only thing that worked for me.”
“That’s a real problem isn’t it, Christian? I mean you would think that science would have solved this nonsense by now. They’re should be some kind of pill you can take if you have a drinking problem.”
“That’s funny because in The Book Big of Alcoholics Anonymous they say that someday science might invent a cure. It also says that science hadn’t invented it yet and that book is pretty goddamn old.” He looked down in the little coin he was holding in his hand.
“You can’t put a time limit on wisdom,” McDowell said.
“Listen and learn…”
The two men looked all around. They heard Bill W.’s voice but they saw no sign of a physical manifestation of him. Still, his presence in the house was there.
“Listen to a dead man and prove that I’m out of my mind,” said Dr. Brown. “I look forward to the test of a madman,” he continued.
There was cold silence.
“I hope you play fair, you narcissistic drunk,” said Dr. Brown.
The two men felt a cold breathing sensation on the backs of their necks.
“Jails, intuitions and death, that’s where the pitiful alcoholics go. And those are the lucky ones who don’t have to follow an insecure cult leader into hell,” Dr. Brown said confidently.
Bill made no noise.
“You’re going to piss him off,” McDowell said.
“I know, friend. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“I want to get the hell out of here.”
“So do I.”
The atmosphere was bleak; there was no thunder and lightning outside. It was not even raining outside of the house that they entered in what now seemed to be forever. Life outside of the house was an eternity ago. McDowell would have sold his soul to be anywhere the dead were not listening in. Bill was not the monster under children’s beds nor was he the devil himself.
“Silenus…”
“A demon, the Greek god of alcohol,” said the doctor.
“Yes…”
“I want to go home,” said Christian McDowell.
“I want to go home, too but we can’t do that yet. We will though, I promise, Christian.”
The fiend had left a clue that might help them escape from their plight.
“I can’t take it, doc.” McDowell ran in circles. He slipped and saw some broken glass on the floor. He held out his hand, the one not grasping the coin and came face to face with his own wrist. The man who survived found the sharpest piece of glass he could grasp. McDowell held it tightly against his wrist.
“For Christ’s sake don’t do that, you can survive a second time, too.”
“I don’t want to survive, I want to end this once and for all…”
“Christian, we KNOW there is life after death now. God only knows what waits for a soul who commits suicide in the next life, a coward who never stood up for himself. Someone so afraid they never stood up to what they feared most….”
Christian McDowell paused for a moment.
“Oh God, Lionel, you’re right.”
It suddenly dawned on him just how severe the consequences of this were, this life and the next. He would have to be brave and somehow find the courage inside to stand up to Bill Wilson. His entire body began to shiver; his goosebumps were almost painful.
He looked down at his coin again and attempted to muster up some courage. “Okay, you bastard. Who the hell is Silenus? Someone you want to blame for your hypocrisy and wickedness?”
Bill Wilson never uttered a word.
“Oh lord,” said the doctor.
McDowell ran over to Dr. Brown’s amazing machine. He looked down and saw the various flashing lights but they made no sense to him.
“What in hell is this good for, Lionel?”
“Jesus, not much, guess…”
“Goddamn it, Brown. It must be good for something; you probably used it a thousand times before.”
“Yes, I have.”
McDowell pressed a few buttons at random. They kept flashing, aimlessly without direction, without purpose and without hope.
“They are meant to register psychic phenomenon. That’s what I used it for in the past, that’s what it’s for but it never proved anything beyond the shadow of a doubt until now.”
“I see.” Christian’s fear turned into pure rage. He kicked at the machine until he stubbed his toe.
“Shit, that hurts!”
“I was going to give you a little pep talk, McDowell. I was. I wanted to say that we’re not heroes but that doesn’t mean we have to be cowards. Now you’ve just shown me that we might be fools.”
McDowell laughed like he was supposed to.
“Fools for my amusement…”
Invisible hands grabbed the two men and pulled them upside down, hanging well over ten feet over the floor, shaking them….
“Fuck you Wilson!” said McDowell.
“Hold on to your coin, Christian. Like our lives depend on it…”
“Yeah, because they do!”
Now they both were laughing.
“I feel sick, Lionel.”
“Hold on!”
Dr. Brown thought of ways to escape, McDowell concentrated on not letting his coin go. Then they were faced with the evil eyes of Bill Wilson. Giant eyes materialized and stared deep into their tiny normal sized eyes.
“See…”
***
They were on a psychedelic journey of sorts, like the kind Bill W. was on when he wanted to expand his spiritual world. Wilson went to meetings at the Oxford Group. Their purpose was to promote sobriety through religious faith in the God of Christianity. The Holy Trinity alone was what could give a hopeless drunk hope. This presented a problem for Wilson. He wanted to expand on the theme of seeking a higher power. They could choose their gods but they could never choose to go against Bill Wilson. It would be him and him alone that would offer sober salvation to the morally bankrupt, the destitute, the laughing stock, the criminal and those enslaved by the god of w
ine. Silenus was watching him. Wilson began to sacrifice animals, hold orgies and offered to sell his soul to whatever deity would come to his aid. He would stop at nothing. Wilson knew that all men must die but he also knew there was always a chance that their names could live on. While seeking a higher power, he came across Silenus who would answer his prayers in return for wicked sacrifices. He was not required to kill anyone or to even kill animals anymore. Wilson simply had to submit to the chaos of whatever would come from worshipping this demonic wine god. The main elements of sacrifice were humility and fidelity. He would worship sex because he could no longer drink his precious and beloved strong drink alcohol. Wilson was not humble but he would require his followers to be. They would not use their last names, only first ones or worse yet the first initial of their last names. Thus Bill Wilson became Bill W. His followers would follow meaningless steps that were created by his madness. They didn’t realize who they were praying to when they prayed in a circle. He kept his true nature secret from Dr. Robert Smith who would later go on to have the ridiculous nickname Dr. Bob. Wilson merely didn’t cheat on his wife; he held grand orgies in a secret home. He got everything he wanted except what he truly wanted which is to drink himself into oblivion. He craved power and lust. And yes, he begged for whiskey on his death bed. Now he inhabited this place. He controlled the soul of poor Lois and although she was far from innocent, Bill W. did terrible things. The malevolent spirit turned her into the whore in death that he never could in life….
Once he knew the two men understood what he had done, when they witnessed his vision and understood it…
“Damn, that hurts, Lionel!”
Bill Wilson dropped them on the floor and set them “free.”
“There is a lot of negative energy here, Christian.”
“Open your eyes…”
The mirror made a return appearance. They were free not to look at it if they chose to but its power was beyond irresistible.
“Mirror, mirror…”
“What now?” McDowell said.
The blue mirror turned bright red with images of Edith McDowell burning to death. The others who were present at the time made up the chaotic background. They were trying to extinguish their burning clothing, trying to roll and put the flames out, trying to do something other than scream. Edith seemed to be the center of everything; she seemed to be looking directly at her husband through the mirror who was lucky enough to be alive at the moment. Then the last two survivors, McDowell and a man named Clive Franklin walked to the front door. Franklin grabbed the door and felt the intense heat burning his hand. He opened up his mouth and blue smoke came out of it. He collapsed on the floor, dead. McDowell kicked down the door (and it was terrible to watch this from the other side of the mirror) and walked outside to freedom.
