Shadows Rising

by Dean Rasmussen

“I’m sure they’re in the tunnels by now, and Brother Brian’s idiot son is helping them. We gave them mercy, spared their lives, and they’ve betrayed us. We granted them life and now God’s judgment will fall on them.”

  Pastor John tapped his pistol on the desk. Brother David stood at attention with his eyes on the pistol.

  “Get a few men here now and prepare them to go after them with me. While I’m down there, block all the exits. Don’t fail me.”

  Brother David nodded. “Yes, Pastor John.”

  Pastor John went upstairs and around to the back of the church to the Black House. Brother Brian was sitting in a chair at his post next to the door of the Black House, and he jumped to attention as soon as he spotted Pastor John walking toward him. His eyes were bright white and his face was more rigid than usual, no doubt the result of knowing he might be taking his last breath at any moment.

  Pastor John glared at him. “What is your job?”

  Brother Brian swallowed. “To guard the Black House, sir. I’m so sorry sir. My son was watching it while I–”

  “Did I put your son in charge of the Black House?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Let me show you something. Set your gun down and follow me.”

  Pastor John led him around to the back side of the Black House and stopped in front of the black door leading down into the tunnels.

  “Do you know where that door leads?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Where does it go?”

  “To the gates of Hell, sir. The demons are down there.”

  “That’s right. And what else is down there?

  Brother Brian’s mouth hung open. He glanced to the ground and to the side. “Um, all the sinners, sir.”

  “Good! Dead sinners. So why are you forcing me to go down there?”

  “I’m so sorry, sir.”

  “I see that. I need you to do something for me,” Pastor John said. “Go down there and find your son and the other two. All by yourself. Do you think you can do that?”

  Brother Brian hesitated. “Yes, sir.”

  “Really? You think you can find them all by yourself?”

  He nodded and stared at the ground.

  “You’re a damn liar, you know that?”

  He nodded again. “I’m so sorry, sir. I really–”

  “Shut up!” Pastor John yelled. “What’s stopping me from throwing your ass down there into that shithole? You know what’s stopping me? My mercy. If you weren’t one of my top guards, you’d already be down in that hellhole. I’d stuff you down head first! The phantoms would make a meal of that big head of yours within seconds, do you understand?”

  Brother Brian nodded.

  Pastor John took a deep breath. “Trust. It’s all about trust. So how can I trust you again?”

  “You can trust me, sir. I’m so sorry. It will never happen again.”

  “I believe you, Brother Brian. Because there’s a limit to my mercy, and you’ve reached that limit.”

  Pastor John wrapped his arm around Brother Brian’s shoulder and squeezed him as they walked back toward the church. “How is Abigail doing these days? I haven’t seen her around for months.”

  Brother Brian shook and stared down. “The phantoms took her four months ago, sir.”

  “Oh, I forgot about that. She should have stayed with the temple. That kind of thing happens to sinners.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, I’m sure you won’t fail me again. I’m off now to venture into the tunnels. Risking my life to clean up your mess.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “You better be.”

  Pastor John slapped Brother Brian on the back and headed toward the front of the church. He stopped. Splotches of pink, blue, and red paint dotted the area on and around the security camera at the top edge of the church roof. He continued into the church and stomped down into the basement again.

  “The men will be here soon,” Brother David called out from his office before Pastor John got there.

  “Fix that security camera out back!” Pastor John yelled.

  “Right away, Pastor John.”

  A video monitor at the back of Brother David’s office displayed rotating video feed from each security camera around the premises. An empty desk and chair sat in front of it. One of the feeds was black, most certainly the one covered in paint.

  “Where’s Brother Damon? Who’s on duty to monitor the security cameras?” Pastor John asked.

  “He’s not feeling well, sir.”

  He sneered. “I’ll solve that problem later.”

  Army surplus backpacks, assault rifles, and night vision goggles lined the table outside Brother David’s office. Pastor John inspected one backpack. Two one-gallon heavy duty buckets took up most of the space and the weight wouldn’t be a problem for them going into the tunnels, but if they survived, two full buckets of the Dunamis would break the back of even the strongest man as they escaped. That would give the temple enough healing power to perform miracles for months, but it had been months since the last successful escape. Within days, their last remaining Dunamis would be gone.

  Brother David came out of his office and stood beside the table of backpacks.

  The weapons inside the pack, a machete, a loaded pistol, a bottle of water, and flashlights would be enough for this excursion. No need to bring more since they wouldn’t be gone long. God would lead them through the tunnels. Satan was a powerful foe, and the demons in the tunnels would kill many of them, maybe all of them. The last trip into the tunnels had led to death for everyone except Pastor John and one other poor soul who had to be eliminated. Better to not take any chances. No one could ever reveal the secret of the Dunamis.

  Minutes later, five healthy, fit men dressed in surplus army fatigues marched into the basement led by Brother Justin, who had also traded his white suit for army fatigues to prepare for the mission. Pastor John hated bringing Brother Justin into the tunnels as he’d shown himself to be loyal over the years and the chances of him returning alive were next to nothing, but God would reward his love for the temple in Heaven.

  “Your mission will not be easy, but God is with us,” Pastor John said. “Trust in God and we can defeat the evil in the town.” The men stood tall and held up their chins. Pastor John inspected their uniforms and boots, nodding as he passed by each one. Their faces showed no emotion, and that was necessary. They’d need strong souls to face the demons awaiting them.

  “You need to be strong,” Pastor John said to them. “The devil will try every trick to get you to give up. I need you to follow me so we can rescue three children of God who’ve been led astray by the darkness. We need to bring them back to the light.” The men nodded.

  “Yes, Pastor John,” they responded.

  Brother David gestured to the prepared items on the table. “Come here and put on your backpacks. I loaded the weapons.” The men did as they were instructed.

  Brother David placed a heavy canteen into Pastor John’s hands. “This is the last of the Dunamis,” he whispered into Pastor John’s ear.

  Pastor John slung it over his shoulder. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

  Brother David stepped back, his eyebrows raised. “Of course not.”

  “Maybe you should come with us?” His eyes narrowed at Brother David. Then he turned to the men. “Who here thinks Brother David should come with us?”

  “Yes,” the men cheered and raised their hands.

  Pastor John laughed. “I know he’d like to, but I need him to watch over the temple while we’re rescuing the three lost souls. Maybe next time you’ll get your chance.” Pastor John locked eyes with Brother David and slapped a hand on his shoulder.

  After everyone had put on their backpacks, they shuffled behind Pastor John as he led them toward the back of the church, through the kitchen, and through a padlocked door. They each put on their night vision goggles, and Pastor John directed them as they stepped down into the dark staircase toward
the temple.

  “You will encounter the Devil,” Pastor John said. “Just do what I say, and follow your training. God be with us.”

  27

  “Mom!” Rebecca yelled.

  “Don’t yell,” Michael whispered.

  The scream faded into a faint moan. Rebecca scanned the walls and the ceiling for any cracks or openings near the sound, and Michael stepped forward, pressing his ear against the wall, the cold stone chilling his icy skin further.

  “Mom!” Rebecca yelled louder.

  “Keep it down, Bex,” Joey said.

  Rebecca’s red eyes teared up. “She’s here. I know it.”

  Michael brushed his fingers across the wall, as if touching the frigid stone would allow him to sense what was on the other side. “I can’t tell where it’s coming from.”

  He stepped alone farther down the tunnel, shining the flashlight across the top of the wall. A section of stone the size of a small window was set into the wall near the top of the ceiling forming a shallow shelf. Those inlaid areas had become a common sight as they’d moved through the hallways and he’d assumed someone had used them to house candles or torches long ago. Some stones around the inlay above had crumbled, and a darker section revealed a cavity.

  “Can you lift me up there?” Michael pointed up to the section he’d discovered.

  They ambled over. “She’s a little easier to lift than you,” Joey said, motioning to Rebecca.

  Michael backed away, and Joey made a step for Rebecca by intertwining his fingers and leaning forward. She put her foot in his hands and grabbed his shoulder as he hoisted her up as far as he could. She clung to an outcropping of stone at the base of the inlay and balanced herself, shining the flashlight into the hole. Part of a stone broke off as she gripped the edge, and it crashed against the floor. The echo traveled up and down the tunnel. Michael shined his flashlight back toward where they had entered, and his pulse shot up again.

  “I can’t see,” Rebecca said. “Lift me a little higher. Ow!” Her head bumped against the ceiling, and she pulled at the stones surrounding the hole, ripping at the broken pieces sending them showering down.

  Another moan filled the air, and Michael craned his neck around to locate the source. The indistinct moans came from everywhere. Rebecca ripped and pulled at the stones, yanking out a larger one that smashed against the floor like a gunshot.

  They all held their breath in the following silence. Rebecca stripped away another handful of loose stones within the hole, sticking her arm in beyond her elbow.

  “I think I got my fingers through.” Dirt caked her skin up past her elbow when she pulled her arm out. She brushed off the dirt and brought her flashlight up to the hole again, peering into the hole. She wobbled while making room for the flashlight.

  “I see something,” she said. “It’s a room.”

  “Do you see anybody?” Michael asked.

  She shook her head and locked her eyes onto the hole. She gasped. “Something’s in there. Something’s moving in there.”

  “Does it look like it wants to eat us?” Joey said, wobbling as Rebecca strained to keep her eye line high enough to see inside.

  “I think this is it. This is the room Finn was talking about.”

  A soft boom echoed through the hallway like a door slamming shut in the distance.

  “What was that?” Michael said.

  Rebecca focused on the hole and Joey winced and twisted as the stone fragments pummeled his feet. Michael hunted the darkness for any signs of movement. He examined the medallion again, running the tips of his fingers across the intricate grooves and symbols. There had to be a way to make it glow again. He locked his gaze on one symbol in particular. A cross within a circle embossed into the base of an indentation that mirrored the size of the stone, which he guessed to be a ruby. Ruby, his birthstone. He pressed the tip of his thumb into the impression as if that would ignite it.

  A man’s voice caught his ear. His eyes widened and his ears perked up.

  “Quiet,” Michael said.

  A woman’s faint voice called out. Michael held his breath and silence rang in his ears.

  “Lift me up higher,” Rebecca said to Joey. He groaned and pushed her higher. She peered her flashlight into the hole again and squirmed, ripping away at the stones around the edges.

  “Mom,” Rebecca called into the hole.

  The woman’s voice called back.

  Rebecca maneuvered her head against the ceiling, angling her light beside her face to get a better view.

  “She’s there!” she erupted. “I see her!” She lost her grip on the edge and slid down the side of the wall. Joey grabbed her arm before she hit the ground.

  A lightness passed through Michael’s chest, and he lost his breath for a moment. “Did you see my grandpa?”

  “I’m not sure, but there’s other people in there,” she said. “I saw faces. My mom wasn’t moving.”

  “We’ll find a way in there.”

  The sound of footsteps from the hallway ahead echoed toward them, but there were no screams or moans. Rebecca spun in the sound’s direction, lighting up the hallway as far as her flashlight reached. The footsteps echoed louder.

  “We need to hide,” Michael said.

  “Where?” Rebecca walked past him toward where they had entered, scouting out any escape routes.

  “What about that hole?” Michael asked, walking toward a dark corner of the passageway. The flashlight illuminated a section of the floor that had collapsed. The black dirt at the edge of the hole funneled down into an opening the size of an overweight human body. Deep within the darkness of the hole the collapsed stones revealed a bottom. Climbing down there would be like burying yourself alive.

  “No, thank you,” Joey said.

  “No more holes, please,” Rebecca said

  “I wouldn’t fit down there anyway,” Joey said. “And one of those things is probably lurking down there waiting for us.”

  They glanced back up the stone steps.

  “Come on,” Michael stepped onto the stairs and stopped when he realized Rebecca and Joey hadn’t followed him.

  “I can’t leave my mom,” Rebecca said.

  “We’ll come back for them,” Michael said. “I promise. We need to hide.”

  Rebecca shuffled toward Michael. A man’s voice resounded off the walls like a loud mumble.

  “It’s the temple.” Rebecca said. “I’m sure.”

  28

  A torrent of light and footsteps rounded the corner in the distance. Pastor John appeared within the faint shadows dressed in military camouflage along with a handful of armed men.

  “Michael, Rebecca, Joey.” Pastor John stepped forward. “This is not–”

  Hissing filled the tunnel and a flurry of clicks echoed from every direction. Michael winced as it hit his ears like a brick. The men behind Pastor John whipped their flashlights in every direction, but the source remained in the shadows. Something knocked into Michael’s shoe and swept up his pant leg, knocking him backward onto the stone staircase as a tentacle seeped from the hole they had considered hiding in. More limbs snaked out from the hole and separated Michael from the others.

  He flung his backpack onto the stairs and pulled out his machete, slicing at the winding arms as they twisted toward him. One arm wrapped itself around his leg and dragged him toward the hole. Rebecca screamed and Joey jumped forward, swinging his machete at the arms now making their way toward Rebecca.

  As Michael slashed into the creature’s flesh to free his leg, he caught sight of the medallion’s red glow within his jacket pocket. He juggled the machete to reach for it, but as his fingers touched the edge of metal, another tentacle lashed through the air and sliced down across his right forearm like an elephant’s trunk spiked with razor blades. The pain shot through to his skull. The tentacle enveloped his arm and yanked it forward, stretching it out taut into the darkness. He swung the machete down against the nearest limb. Another tentacle appeared and t
hen another.

  From behind them, Pastor John’s men fired their weapons toward the entrance, their weapons bursting like a strobe light and the rapid blasts pounded at Michael’s eardrums. Bullets ricocheted off the walls and whizzed down the tunnels, smashing against stones and cracking pieces off the walls.

  The squirming mass of limbs dragged Michael to the edge of the hole it had emerged from. A moment before his hand sank beyond the rim of blackness, he spun around and hacked his machete several times against its flesh. Chunks of meat sliced away until the blade clanked against the stone floor and the limp tentacle holding his leg dropped to the ground. Black blood splashed across his body. He slashed at the tentacle still gripping his arm.

  Pastor John’s men screamed. A rifle was ripped away and cracked against the wall as tentacles seized one man and extracted him from the group. While his men focused their fire at an unseen target, Pastor John drew his pistol and attempted to back away. He shouted out commands, but the whirlwind of gunfire and screaming drowned out his voice.

  Another cluster of winding arms made its way around Pastor John’s men. One tentacle stalked up behind Pastor John’s legs and wrapped around his ankles. Before he could look down, it had yanked his feet out from under him and he toppled forward. His pistol broke free, clanking across the stone until it slammed into the wall.

  Michael beat at the tentacles that fanned out in every direction, slicing at the creature’s face, which now sat in front of them. The creature’s beak snapped and clicked, revealing yet another row of razor-like teeth within the beak. It pulled him toward its face.

  He tried again to reach the medallion in his pocket, but couldn’t free his arm. He slashed through a thick section of its limb, and the black blood sprayed up across his face. The spatter blinded him for a moment until he wiped it away with his wrist. He heaved back, the beak chattering only feet away, and swung the machete up in a bold stroke that sliced clean through the limb holding his arm. He scrambled backward toward the stairs and severed through an arm that was preventing Rebecca from escaping. Joey met them at the edge of the stairs.