The Complete Hidden Evil Trilogy: 3 Novels and 4 Shorts of Frightening Horror (PLUS Book I of the Portal Arcane Trilogy)

by J. Thorn

  “That seems like it would have been a critical component to figure out.”

  Not really. Not now. If Gaki had been only a blood curse, the Hunters would be able to identify the line and move it through the Portal.

  “Kill them.”

  That’s not what I said. You’re still thinking one-dimensionally, as if there is only one true existence. As hideous as it sounds, there is a locality for the gakis, but it is not this one. Here, the creatures are an abomination, and the Hunters must protect our world from them. The point is that identifying the blood curse would have been a strategy in the past, but Gaki has shown that he has the ability to infect without the blood curse, although those tainted by blood will undoubtedly be the most powerful demons.

  “The evil has mutated.”

  Or it has been a hidden evil, one some of us, namely Hunters, can see. And now it appears Gaki’s tide of energy is rising much like the moon’s effect on the oceans. The more demons he creates, the more gakis appear, and the more demons they create.

  “We could be fucked.”

  I have no evidence for this, but I believe the gaki that came from Drew’s maternal grandfather, that manifested inside of him and has just left Drew Green’s flesh, is the key. I believe if we cut the head from that beast, the body will die.

  “You’re starting to sound more like your Jedi master.”

  Mashoka.

  “Yes.”

  Emperor Palpatine was a character in a movie. Gaki is very much real, and his potential lives inside all of us.

  ***

  “Double-skim latte, cinnamon?”

  “Yes, please.”

  If Doug could treat himself to a beer, she couldn’t think of a reason why she couldn’t indulge, as well. Taylor reached into her purse for a five-dollar bill, realizing her fancy coffee would be more than that. She rummaged around near the bottom until she discovered three quarters beneath an unopened packet of travel tissues.

  The young man working the espresso machine looked up at her, winking behind the five o’clock shadow that the men in Playgirl used to sport. She could feel his gaze upon her, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Anything else?” the young man asked, pushing the cup of coffee toward her until his fingers touched hers, where she let them linger for longer than would have been socially acceptable. “You new to town?” he asked Taylor.

  She smiled and shoved her left hand inside the pocket of her hip-hugging jeans. She leaned forward on the counter as if to tell the man a secret, letting her loose shirt drop enough to reveal the top of a black-laced bra. “I live in Pine Valley. Out this way running some errands and got a little thirsty.”

  Taylor picked up the coffee, turned it slightly, and used her tongue to lick some of the whipped cream dripping down the side. The young man chuckled and rubbed his chin with one hand, scanning the coffee shop for anyone who might be eavesdropping on their conversation.

  “I’m really into cougars,” he whispered.

  Taylor blushed and let a girlish giggle escape from her lips. What the fuck are you doing, darling? Doug? The kids? What is wrong with you? “I find younger men really hot,” she replied with her own hushed words.

  You’re going too far. Turn and leave, enjoy your coffee, and get back to Pine Valley in time to pick up the kids. Doug is off today, and he’s had a rough time since the explosion. He needs you at home.

  The young man stood and leaned back on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. Taylor could not help but notice the cut muscles and the way his chin projected brute, masculine strength.

  “You remind me a bit of J. Lo, Jennifer Lopez. Anyone ever tell you that before?”

  “I know who J. Lo is. And yes, I’ve heard that before.” What has gotten into you?

  “I’m Austin,” he said, reaching across the counter and taking her hand in his.

  Taylor felt a shiver run up her spine, and her nipples became hard. “Taylor,” she replied.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Taylor. Make sure you swing by again the next time you’re thirsty.”

  Taylor nodded as the next customer came through the door and Austin turned his mannish-boy charm on them before slinging a rag over his shoulder and firing up the espresso machine again. She scuttled to the side counter, pouring cream and sugar into her cup as a distraction and mindless habit. Taylor felt the heat in her face, at once stimulated and embarrassed.

  “What the hell am I doing?” she mumbled to herself, trying her best to avoid eye contact with Austin on the way out of the coffee shop. “What is wrong with me?”

  Taylor walked outside and let the autumn air fill her lungs. She sighed and reached inside her purse for her keys. Taylor had never cheated on any of her boyfriends, and her marriage was an iron-clad bastion of fidelity. The stories some of her girlfriends told about their extramarital escapades were meant to titillate and did nothing but disgust her. There was a safety and sensuality she shared with Doug, a familiar, cozy place they could go to fulfill whatever physical desires they had. Taylor laughed, unsure what had transpired with Austin the Young Buck a few moments before.

  She sat in the car and turned the ignition. Taylor glanced in her mirrors before pulling out of the lot and driving toward the highway. Something made her look in the mirrors again, a mental nagging like detecting the flashing lights of a police car before they come up behind you. Taylor looked into the rearview mirror, and for a split second, she thought she saw someone sitting there. No, it wasn’t a someone, it was more like a something. The black eyes and tiny mouth were burned into her memory, but when she looked again, the hallucination was gone.

  ***

  Frank had a purpose. He had a plan. Frank loved having a plan. “That’s the plan,” was Frank’s favorite saying.

  He pulled the vinyl cover over the bed of the truck and forced—the demons beneath it? The boys beneath it? He was not sure what to call them, but he knew that it would not be wise to have them in plain sight. They mumbled now and cared little for the comforts that humans took for granted, so Frank didn’t really hesitate to put them under the truck’s cover, letting their thin, spindly bodies bounce around back there. Gaki had created them for him. They were weapons, no longer teenagers, and Frank needed to remember that. The plan was to trade Doug for Kelly.

  “That’s the plan,” he said, pulling the truck out of Jasper’s service station and heading back toward Pine Valley. Getting to Doug wouldn’t be easy, and Frank felt like he had to prime the pump a bit. He had to give his new weapons ammunition, and that would come in the form of satiating some of their ungodly desires. He had to give them a taste if he expected them to function at maximum efficiency. The boys were dead, gone from this place, and Gaki had left diseased forms in their place. That wasn’t Frank’s concern, and honestly, he felt no remorse for it. The boys had chosen that, and now they would live (or die?) with those consequences. Frank smiled, trying to figure out the best way to motivate his new crew when it hit him in a single moment of hideous inspiration.

  “Hold on, boys,” he said while looking in the rearview mirror where the pliant vinyl pushed up in random places and at random intervals, like swimmers trapped beneath a pool’s cover. “Frank’s gonna hook you up with what you want, and then you’re gonna help me get what I want. That’s what y’all got to look forward to, and we’re gonna party hardy, young fellas.”

  Frank turned off the highway and snaked his way through the valley until he came to Maple Street in the abandoned part of the town, left empty and desolate by the company’s desertion. He had put out fires here many times, and he had pulled Drew from the one so recently that he still had black soot in his nose. But that was only one house, and there were more on the street, several of which Frank knew came alive at night with illicit activity and illegal happenings. He coasted down the street, watching plastic shopping bags and leaves blow across the roadway as the wind picked up. Autumn in the Blue Ridge Mountains could be unpredictable, and a day ful
l of sunshine did not necessarily mean a tranquil night. The moon hung low in the sky, and Frank thought he remembered hearing that it would be a “super moon,” glowing red and bulbous.

  “All the better,” he said as a black window of an abandoned house flickered with an orange cast. “The junkies love shit like that.”

  He knew the whores and the drug dealers treasured these old homes because they were well built. Ceilings would drop, and animals found their way inside the broken windows on the ground level, but structurally the houses were sound. With a soiled mattress and a flashlight, the lowlifes had all the shelter they needed.

  He guided the truck into a driveway behind a mid-90s sedan with too much primer to tell where the car began and the rust ended. Frank knew most of the whores would have walked here and assumed the car belonged to the drug dealer who had claimed this house as his den. Frank killed the lights and stepped out into the cooling night, looking up at the moon that appeared to be bleeding. He walked around the truck once. The boys-turned-demons made soft thumps in the bed of the truck that made Frank shiver. He had made a deal with Gaki and would use whatever resources the creature gave him, but he didn’t have to like it. The fucking beasts made his skin crawl.

  “Y’all partyin’ in there?” he shouted toward the bay window on the front of the house where he had seen a lighter flicker moments before.

  “Go away, old man. Don’t need no fucking narcs crashing the party,” came a call from the house.

  Frank sighed and shook his head. He had forgotten what this must look like to the young men and women in there, tossing their lives away to the needle and the spoon or to the chunks of crystal they were smoking. Frank was going to have to provide some element of trust before he could get his four weapons loaded.

  “Ain’t here to crash it.”

  “You’re the goddamn fire chief,” came the reply, the voice now coming from the window as opposed to deeper within the room.

  “Not no more. Just a guy looking to have some fun, blow off some steam.”

  There was a pause, and Frank began to think they weren’t going to let him in. Busting down the door would present another set of problems that he didn’t want to consider, especially without his company-issue fire ax.

  “You alone?”

  “Yes,” Frank replied, looking over his shoulder at the undulating bed tarp on his truck. “Just looking for a little fun, some involving the fairer sort.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about, old man?” the voice replied. “We got some good shit and pussy. If that ain’t why you’re here, then get the fuck out.”

  “That’ll do,” Frank replied as he kept his temper in check.

  There was a pause, and then a figure appeared from the side of the house. Frank could tell from the silhouette that it was a woman until she stepped out of the shadows and the moon helped to identify her as nothing but a girl. Frank hesitated as she came forward, the makeup and tawdry clothes not able to mask the fact that she was a child. He sighed and began to walk to his truck when the vision of Gaki came to him.

  Doug for Kelly, the greasy voice said inside his head. This is the price of doing business.

  Frank shuddered, seeing his own children’s faces superimposed over this girl’s until that was replaced with another image, this one of Kelly Swift swallowing his cock.

  “Hey, hon,” he said to her.

  The girl looked up at Frank with watery, bloodshot eyes. Her hair was matted and knotted with chunks missing down to a dried, bloody patch on her scalp. She could not have weighed more than sixty pounds, and her knees looked like knobs amidst bare bones. Frank looked back to her face, foundation covering her teenage acne.

  “Hi, darlin’,” she replied in an exaggerated southern drawl.

  “You got a party going on in there?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Can I party with you?”

  “Sure, hon. Robby’s gonna need to check you out first. Make sure you’re cool and shit.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Okay,” Frank said, following her as she turned and walked back into the shadows cast by the house on the driveway that led around to the back door. Frank had already assumed that the sheet of plywood nailed over top of the front door wouldn’t be moved.

  Fire code violation, he thought as his rational mind dueled with Gaki’s mental drugging.

  They turned the corner, and the girl seemed to wither into the darkness. Frank spun his head left and right, as his eyes had not yet adjusted to the night. Before he could ask her what was happening, he felt the air forced from his lungs and an immediate pain emanating from his abdomen where somebody had sucker-punched him. Frank doubled over, gasping for air and trying his best not to vomit.

  “What the fuck you doin’ here, Pops?”

  Frank held his right hand up and waved it at the voice as if to further supplicate himself. “Sick of job. Wife. Lookin’ to party.” He pushed the most important words out while trying to ignore the nausea.

  “Git up.”

  Frank used one knee to push off the broken asphalt and inhaled as he stood with his hands on his hips.

  “I swear, Pops. You bust up this party and we’ll put you so deep in one of these houses they ain’t never gonna find you. Got me?”

  “Yeah. I’m cool.”

  “No, you ain’t ‘cool,’ goddammit. You’re the furthest thing from cool. But if you don’t cause no trouble, we’ll get you a rock and yer dick sucked. Can’t promise Lexi will do it, but if you close yer eyes it’ll all be the same, right?”

  “Right,” replied Frank, still talking to the shadows. He glanced around and did not see the girl who had come out to greet him.

  “You got cash? We don’t work on credit here.”

  “In my truck.”

  “Then fucking go get it, dumbass. How the hell you live so long being that fucking stupid?”

  Frank balled his fists as the pain in his stomach gradually subsided. His breath came back along with his temper.

  Doug for Kelly, said the voice inside his head. Frank could not tell whether the warning came from Gaki or from his own appetites.

  “I’ll go get it,” he said. He walked back down the driveway to the truck, knowing he had several sets of eyes watching him. He doubted the punks had any more than lumpy knuckles and a baseball bat, but this was the South and Frank could not rule out the possibility that someone in there had a gun. He opened the door, causing the dome light to come on and the chimes to ring. Frank ripped the keys from the ignition and punched at the dome light to turn it off. He pretended to fiddle with the glove box before looking through the sliding rear window at the bed cover and what he knew was slithering about beneath it.

  You set them loose, Frank, ol’ buddy, there ain’t no going back. You’ll be in this knee deep and halfway to Sunday. You know this, right?

  Frank shook his head and wished Gaki would completely consume his subconscious so he wouldn’t have to have these internal dialogues any longer. “Have you seen the four hungry ghosts I have in the back of my truck?” he asked himself with a tight whisper. “I’m already past the point of no return.”

  ***

  Taylor returned home an hour before she had to pick up the kids. She tossed her purse onto the kitchen counter and ran to the bathroom. Coffee always made the ride home a gamble. Taylor pulled a sheet of toilet paper from the roll, and, as she finished, her eye caught something white hanging from the side of her purse. When she stood and walked over to it, she noticed that it was the receipt curled up on the inside with the top half sticking out. She glanced at it, her frugal tendencies making sure she hadn’t been overcharged when the blue ink got her attention. At the bottom of the receipt was a handwritten note.

  “I wanna see you again. Austin. 245-8476,” Taylor read aloud.

  His chiseled face and young body flooded her mind, and she felt a warmth growing between her legs.

  “Got at least forty minutes,” she said, stripping out of her clothes and walking toward
the bedroom.

  Taylor lay back on the unmade bed, pushing her knees into the air and letting her hand slide down between her legs. She began rubbing, and her nipples hardened. Taylor felt the orgasm and giggled, shocked she was coming so soon. She let the first wave wash over her and immediately plunged her fingers inside as another orgasm began to build. She moved her hand away for a moment and felt the air in the room on her. And then she felt a tongue down below, caressing and licking.

  Taylor opened her eyes and looked down between her legs. Austin looked up at her, his mouth still on her. She sighed and squirmed, but his young, strong arms pushed her legs farther apart and he applied even more pressure with his tongue.

  “Oh my god,” she cried as she closed her eyes and the second orgasm crested. “Fuck me.” She felt his toned body climb up hers as he pushed the head of his cock against her. She grabbed his hips and pulled. “All the way in,” she whispered.

  Taylor felt him enter her, and she moaned. When she opened her eyes, her heart almost stopped in her chest. The creature’s bulbous head tilted back, its slit for a mouth covered in her own juices. Its distended stomach sat atop her abdomen, and it touched her breasts when it rocked forward, driving into her.

  “Get off of me!” she yelled, turning her face away from the creature’s sour breath. The smell of mold, wet grass, and decay made her vomit on the bed and into her own hair.

  The demon’s tubular arms held her down by the wrists as it continued to fuck her. Taylor screamed and thrashed on the bed. She felt the pressure release from her wrists and a draw of air from the room as if someone had just opened a window. She closed her eyes and counted to three before opening them. She lay upon the sheets, naked and alone. Taylor sat up, jumped off the bed, and looked beneath it. She ran to the bedroom closet and looked down the hallway. Nothing.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, wondering if the orgasms had brought some kind of weird hallucination, although it had never happened to her before and she was not aware of it happening to anyone she knew. Taylor almost believed the rationalization until she remembered the thing sitting behind her in the car, the black eyes staring back from the rearview mirror.