by Dana Donovan
“Valerie,” said Michael. “I need more proof before I’ll believe in Doctor Lieberman’s culpability. Surely you can see this person. You have to know. Who is he? Where does he come from?”
Valerie remained stone-faced. “This evil derives from black magic,” she told the others, her voice void of emotion. “It is not of this sphere. It’s from another dimension of time and transition. This evil entity, it knows of our intentions to expose it and is committed to the destruction of our bodies and souls.”
Jean gasped at those words and staggered back against the rail of the gazebo. Shekina and Gordon, already flanking her sides, steadied her and eased her back into the circle.
“Who is this evil entity?” Michael urged. “Is it Doctor Lieberman?”
Valerie’s eyes floated skyward. She stared unflinching into the moonlit night. “This evil entity is in the soul of the person to whom these towels belong. It has consumed the individual entirely, but for the physical being that now moves freely among us. We must send this individual to the Eighth Sphere or more will die.”
“Goddamn.” said Gordon, gulping hard to force his heart back down his throat. “Did you hear that? She used the same phrase Leona used. She said he moves freely among us.”
“We heard,” said Shekina. “She also said the entity is the one who owns the towels, and that’s Doctor Lieberman. What more proof do you need?”
“Shhh! Let her continue,” Lilith snapped. “We mustn’t jeopardize her concentration. We can discuss everything after she’s finished. Go on, Valerie. Tell us what this entity wants with the livers. Why is he cutting them out and why does he only take the livers from those in the workshop? Does he do it for divination?”
Valerie lowered her head. Her hands clutched the twisted towel as though trying to wring the answers from it. “It’s the attraction of blood,” she said. “The entity takes the livers for physical consumption. Those attributes, which the blood contains, will so endure in he who consumes it. Thus is the law of contagion.”
“Holy Cow,” Lilith cried. “Of course. Attraction of blood. How could I have been so stupid?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Attraction of blood, Michael. It’s the motive. Damn it. I should have seen it all along.”
Valerie stumbled forward before dropping the towel and falling into Michael’s arms. Gordon retrieved the towel from the floor and handed it back, but the distraction proved too great. Valerie lost her concentration and allowed the energy holding her to slip away.
“Look,” Shekina complained. “What if Valerie can’t get back into her trance?”
Lilith snatched the towel from Valerie’s hand. “Doesn’t matter. She won’t have to. I know exactly what’s going on now.”
“Great. Then maybe somebody can tell me, so I’ll know too.”
Lilith wadded the towel up and stuffed it back into the bag. “Sure, Gordon. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you all. It’s so obvious. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before.”
“Realize what?”
“Look. When Valerie did the psychometry thing with Barbara’s scarf, didn’t she say that Barbara came out of the building and stopped to look up at something in the sky?”
“Yeah,” Gordon answered. “She looked at the full moon. She commented on how big and bright it looked.”
“Right. And how about when we were watching Travis’ thought-form on the window? Did you notice the full moon in the background behind him?”
Again Gordon answered affirmative, and this time Jean, Michael and Valerie recalled that detail as well.
“And this past Friday night with Chris?”
“Full moon.” Shekina shouted.
“Yes. Full moon. Each time members of the workshop were killed, a full moon hung bright in the sky.”
“All right. All the murders occurred on a full moon. Big deal. What’s your point?”
“Don’t you see? That’s the connection. What Valerie described is a phenomenon known as law of contagion, or attraction of blood. As far back as ancient times, people believed that one’s blood not only contained his life’s essence, but also the characteristics and qualities of that individual. The term attraction of blood comes from these beliefs and that if one consumes the blood of another, then he will acquire the characteristics and qualities of that individual. According to myth, that acquisition is amplified when consumption occurs on a full moon.”
“Are you saying that Doctor Lieberman is a vampire?”
“No, Michael. That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“Yes you are. You’re saying Doctor Lieberman comes out on full moons so he can drink the blood of his victims. That’s what vampires do.”
“Okay, let me explain. A vampire sucks the blood from his victims because that is what he lives on. He simply needs blood, anybody’s blood, for nourishment. With attraction of blood, one consumes blood not for nourishment, but for the quality of that person contained within the blood; the quality he desires to obtain from another and does not possess himself. It’s a ritual, of sorts, once practiced all over the world and throughout the ages. Warriors of ancient Babylon, for instance, drank the blood of other warriors who fought and died, having displayed the greatest courage and fortitude. As recently as the late nineteen seventies we saw this. When the Reverend Jimmy Jones orchestrated the mass suicides of more than six hundred of his followers in the jungles of Guyana, the last members of the congregation still standing actually drank the blood of their beloved leader. They followed this ritual in hopes of being reincarnated with all the power and charisma of Jones, himself.”
Lilith paused to gauge the comprehension of her listeners. Heads nodded even after she stopped speaking, and so she assumed they were getting it.
“In Doctor Lieberman’s case, I think he’s obviously looking to acquire the supernatural qualities of everyone in the workshop, and he’s willing to kill us all to get it.”
“Good God,” Jean cried, reeling back squeamishly. “That’s barbaric. Doctor Lieberman is killing people just to drink their blood?”
“Worse, Jean. Because the liver is the organ that purifies the blood, he’s actually eating it to insure maximum gestation of the benefits.”
“So what are we going to do?” asked Gordon. “Go to the police?”
Akasha stepped forward and grabbed the towels from Lilith. “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” she said. “We are going to do what we have to. We will send the evil entity back to the Eighth Sphere like Valerie said.”
“What is the Eighth Sphere?”
“It’s not a what, Gordon. The Eighth Sphere is a where.”
“All right. Where is the Eighth Sphere?”
“It’s a place where the souls of the exceptionally evil are sent and destroyed once and for all.”
“Really?” A nervous tic tugged at the corners of his mouth. He had already sensed the conversation’s direction, but against his better judgment he inquired anyway. “And how do we do that? I mean, exactly how do we send his soul to this place, the Eighth Sphere?”
Akasha replied simply. “We kill him.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re out of your mind. We can’t kill him. That’s crazy. Am I right, Guys?” Gordon’s eyes searched the faces of his shop mates for reinforcement, but found instead a shocking lack of outrage. “C`mon, guys. Tell her. It’s crazy. Isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” said Michael. “You think it’s crazier than killing people for their livers?”
Gordon tried, but couldn’t answer that. He knew that anything they did at that point might seem crazy, but not crazier. Michael set his hand on his shoulder.
“Look Gordon. If we go to Detective Marcella with our story, there’s a good chance he’s not going to believe it. Even if he does, the evidence is no good since we removed it from Lieberman’s office. Of course, by then Doctor Lieberman will know we’re on to him. There’s no telling what
consequences we’ll face after that. This whole thing may seem crazy to you, but still we’re sure of one thing. Doctor Lieberman killed six people, and logical deduction tells me that he intends to kill again, and next time it’ll be one of us.”
The night stood unnaturally still. The burden weighed heavy on each, as they absorbed the gravity of the situation. It had become a matter of life and death. There would be no more workshops after that. They knew it. What they didn’t know, what they could not know, was what would become of them once they took the irreversible step, once they took on the agent of evil and tried to send him back to the eighth sphere. It was better if they didn’t think of it at all. Better if they just did it.
Valerie came forward. “We need to do it. Damn the consequences. Lilith?”
Lilith hesitated, more so than anyone might have expected. “I don’t know, Val. It’s not in my blood.”
“What’s to know? You believe he did it, don’t you?”
“Yes, but….”
“What?”
“It goes against the witch’s creed, ‘Take thy life not, as thou wouldst take thine own.”
“But he’s evil. Isn’t there something in the witch’s creed for that? You have an obligation—to us, to Barbara, Chris and Travis. You know you do.”
“Yes I suppose…..”
“Then you’ll do it?”
She nodded, though her eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor as distant as any star. “Yes.”
“Good.”
“Me too,” said Jean, the tone of defiance in her usually passive voice somewhat animated. “I’ll do it for my uncle and the good name of the Institution for which he stands. I’m not going to sit idly by and let Doctor Lieberman bring him and the Center down in ruins.”
The girls huddled in solidarity, their hands totem-poled atop one another. But the five could not pull it off alone. They could not take on the evil entity without the boys. Valerie looked back at Michael and Gordon, her brow arched in subtle request. The decision didn’t come so easily for them. Perhaps they were not as desperate, vulnerable, or convinced. They looked at each other.
“What do you think?” Gordon asked. “Is this too crazy?”
Michael took a deep breath and let it out through bloated cheeks. “I don’t like it, Gordy, but I guess we don’t have a choice. We can’t go to Detective Marcella with what we know. Doctor Lieberman’s reputation is stellar. He’ll never believe us. I mean, come on. Think about it. Attraction of blood? Hell, it almost sounds too unbelievable for me. If we can kill Lieberman and get away with it, then we’ll have avenged the deaths of Travis, Barbara and Chris. If we get caught, well, at least we’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that we probably saved countless other lives; not the least of which could be our own.”
Michael turned toward the open lake at the south end of the gazebo. He pitched his gaze skyward. A thousand stars shone down, casting tiny rays of light that danced like nymphs on the water in glittering shapes. “We have powers that most people would envy,” he said, his back still to the others. “And yet we’re nothing more than mere specs in the greater scheme of things. Some of us dare to ask what it all means. Maybe it’s not for us to know.”
When he turned again, he saw Gordon and the others gazing on the water; a gentle peace reflected in their eyes. He knew what he had to do. “Our destinies lay waiting at the steps of the research center. Maybe it’s the reason fate brought us all here to begin with. I mean, do you think Detective Marcella would have had a chance to put all this together?”
“No. I suppose not.” Gordon offered. “Not without our help.”
“That’s right. It’s not his destiny.”
“And you’re sure it’s ours?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “We have to do this.”
The boys reached out and joined hands with the girls. After swearing allegiance to one another, Gordon brought up Leona’s name.
“What about her?” Shekina asked.
“Shall we tell her what’s going on?”
“No. We tell no one outside this group.”
“But Leona is in the group.”
“No, she isn’t. She’s not in the group tonight.”
“But she may be in grave danger. Doctor Lieberman knows she can identify him as the killer.”
“The point is moot, ladies,” said Valerie. “I haven’t been able to reach Leona since the other night when she ran out of the room.”
“Do you suppose she’s all right?”
“I hope so. I can’t imagine where she could be. She doesn’t know anyone else in town but us.”
“You know what I think?” said Michael. “I think the worst has already happened to her. If Doctor Lieberman went to see her after the workshop the other night, then he probably killed her. There’s no way he’d take a chance and let her tell someone what she knew.”
Valerie said, “Let’s hope you’re wrong about that,” and the tone of her voice said to drop it. “For Leona’s sake, let’s hope you’re wrong.”
They said nothing more about Leona, and the time came for the group to plan their course of action for what would become known as the operation.
Eight
The persistent drizzle that had so thoroughly soaked the landscape for a continuous eighteen hours finally let up by the time Akasha and Shekina completed the outline for their plan to kill Doctor Peter Lieberman.
“This is how we’ll do it,” Akasha instructed. “We’ll go back to the research center tonight and wait for him to leave. When he does, Michael and Gordon will jump him and drag him into the bushes along the tree line this side of the parking lot.” As she spoke, Akasha drew an imaginary line on the gazebo floor, indicating the respective positions each would take up during the operation.
“Once he’s in the bushes and out of sight, one of us will have to slice his throat like this.” She motioned with her index finger across her throat, starting at the bottom of her left ear and ending at the bottom of her right. “After we slit his throat, we’ll string him up by his feet from the nearest tree. That way all the blood will drain from his body and the essence of evil within him will ooze out with his blood.” As a conciliatory gesture, she added, “If you like, Lilith, you can cast a spell or something to banish his soul to the Eighth Sphere.”
Lilith forced a smiled, but it came out looking like a sneer. “No, that’s all right. I’m sure his soul will find its own way after that.”
“It seems a little harsh,” said Gordon. “I mean the throat slitting. Can’t we just shoot him or something?”
“Do you have a gun?”
“No.”
“Then we do it my way. Besides, Unless Doctor Lieberman’s blood spills completely, the evil does not die. Its essence will rise and seek another host. If not done correctly, it might choose one of us to carry on the evil. Do you want that someone to be you?”
Gordon didn’t answer, but his nervous smile told Shekina what she needed to know.
With that, the group returned to the research center and took up positions exactly as planned. The girls found cover in the brush behind the trees at the edge of the parking lot. Michael and Gordon hunkered down low behind Doctor Lieberman’s Mercedes which was backed into the space furthest from the front door. They crouched only a few moments before realizing they had overlooked one small detail.
“It’s almost ten o’clock,” said Gordon, pointing to his watch. “What are we going to do?”
Michael said, “We’re going to need a back-up plan.”
They retreated into the woods and caught up with the girls.
“Nice going, Akasha,” Michael said, his voice mixed with anger and disappointment. “Your perfect plan overlooked one minor detail.”
“What?”
“Marcella’s deputy.”
“No big deal. Take him out.”
“Are you insane? I’m not going to kill him.”
Akasha and Shekina both laughed. “You idiot, I don’t mean kill him. I mean
take him out like you took out Doctor Lieberman tonight when you gave him that headache.”
“Oh, right.”
“What’s she talking about?” Valerie asked.
“She’s talking about earlier tonight when I got pissed at Lieberman. I shot him with thought energy and gave him a mini-migraine.”
“Really? You can do that?”
“I did it. Didn’t I?”
“Can you do it again?”
“I suppose, but I never did it from such a distance before.”
“You have to try,” said Akasha. “Everything is hinging on it.”
“Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
He turned back and crept guardedly through the brush until he reached a clearing at the edge of the lot. He crouched low, keeping within the shadows and setting himself up in a direct line of sight with the squad car. He closed his eyes and focused his thoughts on the deputy, managing through concentration to send out a high-level thought energy wave sufficient enough to disrupt the magnetic corona around the unsuspecting officer. Within minutes, it began working, and before they knew it, the deputy started his car, dropped it into gear and pulled away, leaving Doctor Lieberman alone and at their mercy.
At precisely twenty past ten, the anxious vigilantes-to-be spotted the lights in the second-floor window going out. The boys reclaimed their positions behind Doctor Lieberman’s Mercedes. Lilith and the twins kept back in the shadows behind the tree line, waiting nervously with the only tools for the operation they could find: a pair of jumper cables and a tire iron from the trunk of Gordon’s Chevy. At the other end of the parking lot, within eyesight of the main street, Valerie and Jean kept watch for traffic.
Moments later, Doctor Lieberman stepped through the plate-glass doors, unsuspecting and oblivious to the righteous arm of vengeance awaiting him. As he approached his Mercedes, his darkened silhouette stretched before him. A single chirp alerted Michael and Gordon that he had unlocked the car door by remote key entry.
