by Glenn Rolfe
“Who are you?” the wolf asked.
A girl’s voice answered, “My name is Christina.”
“Do you know what haunts this place?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell us what it is?”
“It was somebody that I used to know. Somebody dark. Somebody who did wicked things.”
“What is her name?”
“Sarah,” the voice said.
“Christina, will you help us to rid this place of Sarah’s presence?”
“Yes.”
There was the sound of thunder somewhere beyond them. Rhiannon could hear a series of booms.
“Where is Sarah’s home?” he said.
“The pool.”
“There is another. Do you know him?”
“No, but he is not as strong.”
“We need safe passage to her home.”
“I can help.”
“Thank you, spirit. May you come to light when all is through.”
Rhiannon felt Lee’s hands in hers again. She opened eyes that she hadn’t realized she’d closed. Lee let go and began collecting the candles, blowing each out. “Help me gather my things.”
Bang, bang, bang.
The thunder she’d heard in the dream, or whatever had just happened, was the man in black banging at the door. He hadn’t been able to get through. Not yet anyway. She felt a small burst of confidence. They might make it through the night after all.
Chapter Seven
Jeff grasped at the Meghan look-alike, the sharp pain from his severed tongue was like nothing he’d ever felt before. He flew backward into the pool water. Submerged, he realized this wasn’t water at all. It was thicker, slimier. He tried to swim, his head throbbing, his body betraying him. He kicked his legs as best he could to combat the resisting liquid. Waving his hand out before him he made contact with something and tried to wrap his hand around it. He grasped onto an arm, her arm? And pulled his body up, bumping into something or a bunch of something’s as he did. He got his head out of the pool gasping for air.
“Sorry about that Jeffrey, I was just having a little fun. You’re not mad at me are you?” The devil’s voice came from somewhere in the room.
Wherever she was, she wasn’t who he was clinging to. He opened his eyes and prayed it wasn’t Rhiannon and found himself surrounded by bodies in varying stages of decay. They filled the pool, floating in a bath of blood. He could see things squirming in the mouths and open flesh of the bodies closest to him. He was too shocked to scream. He wanted to wake up, but knew this wasn’t another bad dream.
“No. This isn’t a dream, Jeffrey. You have a promise to fulfill.”
He looked up. Her face was moving; the skin– pulsating, her eyes dancing from one luminous color to another. Her hair seemed alive, reaching out to the room of dead things. Her nudity no longer registered. He looked into her eyes and stared, mesmerized. She moved down the length of the pool. His only thought was of the sweet welcoming arms of death. He followed her, wading through the bodies, using some to pull himself along.
“Come to me, Jeffrey.” She moved down the stairs at the shallow end, holding out a hand for him to join her. And he did.
…..
“I see her,” Rhiannon said.
Lee reared back in time to see the shape of a girl up in the corner by the door, her hands dim-blue and pointing toward the door.
“What’s she doing?” Rhiannon said.
Lee finished putting the last pieces of his collection back in the basket, stood up, and said, “She wants me to blur the binding line and let the demon in.”
“What?”
“I think she has a plan. We have to trust her,” he said. “I trust her.” Lee knew although she was trapped here like the others she was different. He’d seen glimpses in his vision. She was brought here by this devil and she was here now to help stop it. “Back up. We need to make some room. This demon may not be as powerful, but that doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous.” Lee placed the basket on top of the bed and pulled out a few more tricks.
“That guy, that thing out there. I saw what it can do. There’s no fucking way we can let it in here,” she said. Lee watched Rhiannon backing away, shaking her head, looking at him like he was throwing her to the wolves. “He can read your thoughts; he can make you see things; he killed all those people…”
“Trust. You must trust the light. Whatever is happening or has been happening in this hotel, it’s all born of darkness. The only way to rid this place of its grip is to stand up, trust in good and have faith in the light.” Lee grabbed her by the arms and stared into her brown eyes. “Do you trust me?” His faith had been strengthened in the last few hours, but he couldn’t deny that the river of deceit he’d been living off for most of his adult life twisted below the surface. He needed her to believe. Their fate depended on it.
“I, I…” She looked past his shoulder.
“Rhiannon,” he said.
The door behind them was buckling, the pounding growing louder.
“You can’t hide in there all night,” the demon said. “You’ll give in, and I’ll be waiting. Do you hear me?”
Lee shook her, “Look at me,” he said. “Listen. We are not in this alone. But we are the only ones here who can stop it. Right now. I need you to believe.”
“I,” she began then dropped her head. “I don’t. I’m sorry, but I don’t. You don’t know what I’ve been through.”
Lee looked the girl over; the blood on her hands and feet, covering her shirt, her hair.
“Are you kidding? How do you think you’ve made it this far? How do you think all the others are gone, and yet, you’re still standing here? Breathing, fighting…you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. Look at me.” She brought her blood and tear-stained face up. “I believe that you are the reason I’m here. You are the light that led me to this shadow.” He knew he had to confess it all.
Bang, bang, bang.
“Open this goddamn door or I’ll rip it the fuck off,” the man in black said.
Lee continued. “I’ve been nothing but a magician, a boy with a few tricks up his sleeve, a guy using his heritage, his gift, to make a living. I forgot the truths my grandfather had shown me. I had forsaken who I was, what I was supposed to be.”
The barrier can no longer hold him, the spirit said inside Lee’s mind.
“I know who I am. I am where I’m supposed to be. We are here to end this darkness.”
The frame around the door began to crack and splinter.
He’s coming in, the spirit said.
“Do you trust me?”
Rhiannon’s eyes met his. “Yes.”
“Do you trust in the light?”
“Yes.”
The door crashed inward slamming against the wall. Lee looked over and saw the man in black with burning coal for eyes–his smile was no longer playful.
“Give me the bitch and I’ll let you run,” the demon said.
Lee got up, placed himself in front of Rhiannon. “You will not take this girl, demon. You will not take one more soul.”
The man in black stepped forward. “You just missed your chance to get out of this alive.”
Lee reached in the basket, pulling out a large knife and another vile.
“Is that the good stuff?” The demon smirked.
Rhiannon stepped out from behind Lee, taking the knife from his hand.
“Oh, this one likes to play so rough,” the demon said, staring at Rhiannon.
Lee grabbed the blade back from her. “No. Let me,” he said.
“But I believe you.”
“I know, but it must be me,” he said.
…..
Rhiannon let go and moved behind Lee.
The blue shadow on the ceiling behind the demon moved into action. Before the demon could turn, the shadow exploded into him.
Lee placed himself between the demon and Rhiannon. Holding out the knife he flipped the top off the vile. “Bless this
blade that it may cut the darkness. Bless this weapon against the evils of the world.” He dumped the contents of the vile upon the eight-inch blade and then watched the bright white light illuminate the knife.
The demon screamed.
The blue shadow sailed through the man in black, flying straight up before them; the man in black, arms spread, chest out, head back, reeled forward.
Rhiannon collapsed to the floor behind Lee.
She watched him step toward the screaming thing, gripping the handle of the knife with both hands, thrusting it forward, sinking the bright white blade into the heart of the demon.
“Ahhhh!” Lee screamed in its distorting face.
Rhiannon sat transfixed on what was happening. Light spread like fire through the convulsing body of the demon before them. Its mouth, nose, eyes burst with the blinding luminance. The cries of a thousand beasts torn to pieces in the night ripped from its throat. A blast of energy exploded out from its form sending Lee off his feet and flying backward. She heard the shattering glass above her as Lee was sent smashing through the hotel window.
The room was left in blackness. The man in black was gone. Lee had done it. Lee and Christina.
Rhiannon stumbled up to her feet.
“Oh my God,” she said, staring at Lee’s body lying motionless on the lawn outside the hotel.
…..
Lee couldn’t open his eyes. He knew he’d sent the first demon into the light, but something bad had happened to his body. He concentrated, focused on Rhiannon and pushed himself forward. He saw his body below, dotted with bloodspots where the shards of glass from the hotel window had penetrated. There was a sliver of blood drooling from his busted lip, which was never a good sign. He had no time to worry about his own well-being. He could see Rhiannon, and the spirit, Christina, watching from the room. He would have to communicate to Rhiannon through the spirit.
…..
“Rhiannon,” the spirit said.
Rhiannon turned to the girl–eyes meeting hers, hands formed and held out toward her–waiting.
“Christina?” Rhiannon said.
“Yes, listen, your friend, Lee. He’s with me,” she said.
“Oh my God, is he, is he…” Rhiannon brought her hands to her mouth.
“No. He’s not dead. He’s weak, but his body is still alive.”
Rhiannon looked out at his body, and then back to the spirit. “He’s with you?”
“He says Jeff is with Sarah. You have to stop her.”
“What? How? What about you?”
“He says you have to do this. You have to bring her dark resting place to light,” Christina said.
“What do I do?”
“He says to follow the spell with the candles in the pentagram, the smudge-stick in the plate, when it reveals itself, read the vanquishing incantation from the notebook, Burning Darkness. He says to wait until she’s in the center of the pentagram.”
“Lee, how do I–?”
“He’s gone. His spirit is very weak. Listen to me. I feel responsible for what Sarah has become. I, I tried to stop her once before, when we were alive. I failed.” Christina’s luminescent blue gaze bloomed before Rhiannon’s eyes. “I will help you destroy her.”
Chapter Eight
Rhiannon grabbed Lee’s wicker basket of supplies and moved back down the hall toward the pool room, knocking on doors along the way–no one answered. Christina said she had to get things rolling, and that the spirit would make sure Sarah was where she was supposed to be. Rhiannon wondered what life with the real Sarah must have been like. She shuddered. Two doors from the pool room, she found the maintenance office. She tried the knob–it was locked.
Of course it is.
She wanted to check on Jeff, but didn’t think she’d get more than one crack at what she had planned. She hurried back down the hall to the front desk, went into the back office and moved to the big red box where they kept all the hotel keys. She found the maintenance key and grabbed it. The lost and found box by the housekeeping office caught her attention. She fished out some jogging shorts and a raggedy, red hooded sweatshirt. The clothing helped to ease her sense of vulnerability. She also grabbed what looked like a reusable shopping bag from Jenner’s Grocery and threw it over her shoulder. She slipped the maintenance key in the sweatshirt’s pocket and was ready to run down the hall when an idea struck her. She moved to the fire security panel and scanned the system’s operating menu on the inside of the small grey door. She found the alarm silence button and pressed it. The system functioning indicator turned from green to red. The curtains hanging in each window of the back office gave her another idea. She reached into Lee’s basket for his lighter, crouched at one curtain, zippo in hand, then the next, setting fire to each of them one by one. She left the room–already filling with smoke and flames–and hurried down the hallway looking like Red Riding Hood.
Steve, the maintenance manager, had an amazingly organized office. Tools, signs, ladders, and spare parts all labeled and neatly tucked in their own spaces. She found the bright yellow cabinet that read “flammable liquids” tucked away next to his small, black desk in the back. She opened it to find more than enough fuel to do the job. She grabbed soda-sized bottles of white-labeled green and black liquids. Their labels read: Total Alkalinity Indicator, Silver Nitrate Regent, and Sulfuric Acid. She also grabbed a metal canister of something called Handi-Strip and a couple small cans of enamel. The smells assaulted her nose, promising to do the deed. She used a screwdriver to pop the tops off the cans of enamel, and exited the room. Smoke filled the lobby toward the east end of the floor.
It had begun.
She sat the wicker basket at the start of the carpeting and tilted the small cans, one in each hand, making her way down the corridor, pouring out their contents. When they emptied, she started with the Handi-Strip. She reached the exit door at the far end of the hall, satisfied that this would do the trick then ran back to the wicker basket and pulled the Zippo out. The pool room was diagonal from the maintenance room; she dared a glance, and noticed the frosted glass pane to its entrance. It was in there, and so was Jeff. She wondered where Christina had gone. She hoped the spirit was ready.
She flicked the wheel, igniting the lighter, and held it to the carpet. The blue flames came to life, racing down the cold hallway. She tucked the Zippo in her pocket, picked up the basket, and moved to the pool room door.
No turning back.
The thought crossed her mind with an air of finality. She grasped the frozen silver handle and opened the door. What she saw tilted her universe.
The pool was filled with blood and decaying bodies, lots of them. Her stomach turned threatening to cripple her. She followed the blood-soaked corpses with her eyes to the opposite end of the pool and then forgot all about them. Jeff, eyes open and staring off into another dimension, lay naked, slumped against the far wall, his mouth, neck, chest, and exposed manhood covered in blood. The girl next to him looked dead, too. Dark hair covered her face, but Rhiannon recognized her as the girl with the broken air conditioner.
She had called herself Sarah. If the dark presence was no longer making her home in the young girl, then where the hell was it? Rhiannon glanced around the room, the hairs on her body reaching out in terror, pleading with her to run the other way. Lee had told her what she had to do. She opened the basket and pulled out the candles, the smudge-stick, its plate, and the notebook he had told her to read from. She lit the smudge and let it burn a few seconds before blowing it out and letting its positive aroma spread up into the air dancing with the trail of smoke. She carefully laid it on the plate and began to light the other candles. With each one lit, she stood and placed them around the pool remembering to align them in the shape of a star, or pentagram, as Lee had referred to it.
Fight fire with fire.
She sat two at this end, one to the left of the pool, and then circled back around, not quite ready to step near Jeff’s body. Then she placed one on the right side. As
she approached her co-worker’s slumped and bloody form, she noticed a stirring among the floating cadavers in the pool. She hurried the candle to its place between Jeff and the girl. With the pentagram complete, she moved back around the way she came, keeping an eye on the movement below the lake of blood and death. She reached into the grocery bag for the other chemicals from the maintenance office. She twisted the tops open and scurried to the moving pool water, emptying the contents and throwing the containers in as well before she returned to the basket. Finally, she grabbed the notebook. A head emerged from the sea of corpses. Rhiannon stood, trembling before the evil that brought this night to a head. Her fingers refused to flip through the pages of the notebook, the thought that she couldn’t do this slammed into the front of her mind.
The girl who emerged from the pool reminded her of the girl from that Stephen King movie. Blood-soaked hair matted to her face; a few dying curls stubbornly hanging down over bare breasts. Her eyes were two hot coals with an orange fire blazing behind them. Her lips curled at the corners in a sinister grin that made Rhiannon want to hide. The girl, the thing called Sarah, stood fifteen feet away, dripping blood into the small puddle of crimson at her feet.
“So,” Sarah said, glancing around at the candles surrounding her home. “Did our magic man put you up to this?”
Rhiannon stood silent. Fear pummeled her courage into complete submission.
“You two managed to stop my sweet Kenneth and my Timothy. I should say that makes me want to tear you to pieces, but truthfully, I’m more impressed than anything. It’s a pity to lose such devoted hands, but they were only the first. My powers are only beginning to reach their full potential.”
“What are you?” Rhiannon asked.
“To be totally honest with you, I don’t really know.”
