The Altar

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The Altar Page 11

by James Arthur Anderson


  “And what I’m saying is ‘New Age’, right?”

  “On the contrary. The Bible teaches that Satan exists and that there are demons. That was true in ancient times. Why wouldn’t it be true today?”

  “So you think this is possible?”

  “Possible, yes. I’ll admit that I’m not convinced yet, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. It just means I haven’t been convinced yet.”

  “So what should we do?”

  “I think we should begin by seeing if this altar stone really does exist.”

  “If it does, I know one man who could lead us to it. Johnny Dovecrest. I’m sure he knows something about all this.”

  Mark nodded. “Then let’s go pay him a visit.”

  6

  Seti watched his followers dance naked around the altar. There was Rhonda, the dark-haired one, so pregnant that she might burst open at any second. She disgusted him now, but the brat might have a use. And there was Marion and Monique, the twins. Fine young bodies and great in bed-especially together. Crissy, the blonde, with the perky, upturned breasts and the expert tongue. Shanika, the black one with the hard body. And Rosea, the brunette, plump and juicy.

  And the men. Seti wasn’t as interested in the men, though he had gone both ways. Frank, the electrician, a little rough around the edges but very easy to control. And Jack, the schoolteacher, so gay that it hurt to watch him walk. Bud, the ex-cop who had been drummed out of the force for messing with children. Tony, the ex-stripper whose life was one drama after another. That one was going to be replaced, Seti vowed-he’d had enough of his emotional outbursts and pouting. The others were easy to control, but this one was emotional and unstable. He wouldn’t last much longer. Then there was Pete, just 16 and a runaway. Seti imagined this life of sex and scandal was a fantasy come true for this cast-off teen. And finally, Ryan, the cold, quiet one. Sometimes Seti worried about what might be going on in that dark mind.

  They were finishing the dance now, and it was almost time. Seti felt the ceremonial knife in his hand and licked his lips in anticipation. He felt the entity quivering in his mind, almost orgasmic with anticipation.

  Guided by the voice, he walked closer to the altar, past the ring of dancers, and looked at the girl. She looked back at him through one good eye with a gaze that showed no fear, only resignation. Just get it over with, she seemed to say, though her lips did not move. Ah, Little Girl, he thought. If only it were that easy. A quick, painless death would be so easy. But it was not about to happen. He had something more for her in mind. Her suffering was like food, her pain like nectar to this unseen god. And he so very much needed to feast.

  Seti lifted his arms up over his head, pointing the knife up towards the moon. The dancers stopped, on cue. The time had come.

  “Master,” he said. “I give you this child’s suffering as my gift to you. May you feast and grow strong.”

  He lowered the knife to her heart-merely a tease, since he wouldn’t cut deep enough to kill, but just deep enough to begin a cut that would open her up for all to see. Then he and the dancers could feed on her still-living entrails while the demon fed on her pain. He felt the knife pierce the tender skin, and the first drops of blood spill forth. He pulled a drop of blood up with his finger and licked it off.

  Then he felt a sudden impact in his side, just below his shoulder. He felt the impact before he felt the pain or heard the loud crack of the gun. The sudden jolt sent the knife deep into the girl’s flesh, much deeper than he intended and straight into her heart. She jolted upright, her body almost pulling the blade into her, and her eyes bubbled up in her head. Seti dropped the knife and reeled to face his attacker as another bullet flew past his left ear. A madman was dashing across the open field, shooting a semi-automatic pistol as he ran.

  “Stop him!” Seti shouted, as the voice in his brain suddenly shrieked.

  His followers immediately surrounded him, and he saw Tony go down, holding his chest. Good riddance, Seti thought, as he knelt down on the ground, holding his own side. His wound wasn’t fatal, he knew, but it would need treatment.

  He saw his followers flee; only Ryan turned to face his attacker. Even the ex-cop ran away from the onslaught.

  Then, as if by magic, the attacker stopped cold and threw up his arms. The gun fired uselessly into the air until it clicked on an empty chamber. Then the attacker looked directly at Seti, horror filling his eyes. He turned and ran back the way he had come like a whipped dog.

  Then the voice filled Seti’s brain with a force that he could never have imagined.

  “You idiot!” it screamed throughout his being. “It’s been spoiled! She didn’t suffer enough!”

  Just the same, the voice had increased in power by tenfold. In fact, it was no longer just a voice now, but an actual, physical presence. Seti could feel it at the base of his neck, and when he reached around he felt a solid growth, like a tumor that had run amok. The thing was the size of a small melon, and squishy to the touch.

  “That’s right,” it said. “I am part of you now. And I will remain part of you until you can bring me back in my own, true form!”

  Seti felt the blood running down his side and over his legs. He looked up at the moon one more time before passing out beside the altar stone.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  1

  Erik and Mark knocked on Dovecrest’s door, but there was no answer.

  “Maybe he’s around back,” the pastor said.

  The back of Dovecrest’s place butted directly against the deepest woods, and with only the light from inside his living room shining out, it was as dark as pitch. Mark took a small flashlight from his pocket and guided them around to the back.

  The back door was open and swinging gently on its hinges in the breeze.

  “That seems strange,” Erik said, and poked his head inside. “Why would he leave the door open?”

  They called Dovecrest’s name and were debating whether or not to go inside when they heard the first gunshot. It was quickly followed by a second, a third, and more. The two men looked at each other and then towards the woods.

  “This is probably the only place in the state where a cell phone won’t work,” Mark said. “We’d better take a look ourselves.”

  Erik hoped that the pastor knew his way through the woods better than he did. Mark hurried to the edge of the woods and located a path leading in.

  “I used to be a Boy Scout,” Mark said.

  Tentatively, Erik followed.

  The pastor’s flashlight was small but very powerful, lighting up the woods just enough so that they could follow the path. There were more gunshots, quick and in rapid succession, but it seemed that the pastor had already locked in on the sound and was heading towards it. They struggled forward through the woods for several minutes, then Mark stopped.

  “Wait, I hear something.”

  Erik pulled up beside him and listened. Someone was heading towards them.

  “Who’s there?” Erik said.

  Suddenly, Dovecrest crashed through the bushes, nearly knocking them both down. The pastor’s flashlight shone full in his face. His eyes were wider than saucers, and his brow was contorted with a look of outright terror. Erik didn’t think he had ever seen such a look of panic on a face before.

  He locked his arms around Dovecrest and the two of them fell to the ground in a heap. Dovecrest struggled to get up, but Erik, with Mark’s help, held him down.

  “Relax,” Mark said in his best soothing preacher’s voice. “What’s going on.”

  Dovecrest struggled for a moment more, then looked at the two men as if seeing them for the first time.

  “It’s…it’s gone now,” he said, finally. “It was so…awful, but it’s gone.”

  “What’s gone?” Erik asked, and Dovecrest looked at him as if he were a complete idiot.

  “Come on,” Pastor Mark said. “Let’s get you back home and then you can explain everything.”

  Dovecrest nodded slowly. “
I have to tell someone,” he said. “Even if you don’t believe me.”

  2

  Dovecrest allowed the two men to lead him back to his cabin. Nothing had gone according to plan, he thought, but at least he had saved the girl undue suffering. If only his aim had been a little better and he could have killed the leader. But he knew even that wouldn’t have mattered in the end. It would have just found another leader, and the girl still would have been sacrificed.

  He trudged through the wood between the two men and wondered how he was going to explain it to them. They wouldn’t believe. Surely they wouldn’t believe. And when he tried to take them back to show them, all of the evidence would be gone. Or else they would think he was the one who killed the girl.

  Still, he had to try, though. He couldn’t win any other way. The demon was too powerful for him, even now, and it wasn’t even fully transformed yet. It would only become stronger with each new sacrifice, and he would be powerless to do anything to stop it.

  The few hundred yards back seemed endless. His mind was still reeling from the shock he’d experienced when the thing had entered his mind. It had felt like a sharp, red-hot needle being thrust directly into his brain. The thing had taken him over completely, making him shoot the pistol harmlessly into the air while he watched the girl bleed to death on the slab. Then, when all of his ammo was gone and his mind was virtually writhing in agony, it had turned him loose, just as suddenly as it had taken him over. The thing had left one thought in his mind-that it was as easy as that for it to take control of him at any time. The message had been clear-you can go free for now, but I can have you back whenever I want you. And I can make every moment of your life a living hell.

  Finally, he saw the lights of his cabin come into view and he knew he was home free, at least for now. Tomorrow would be another story. But he didn’t want to think that far ahead. All he could think of was a hot cup of steaming black coffee and sitting down at the table to unburden his soul to these two men, who probably thought he was either lying or insane, either a criminal or a maniac. But he no longer cared what they thought. The time had come to tell his story.

  3

  The first thing Dovecrest wanted to do was make coffee.

  “That’s really not necessary,” Erik said. “We’ll be fine.”

  But the Indian insisted, saying that he needed a strong cup of black coffee, so Erik tried to be patient as he sat at the kitchen table, exchanging worried looks with the pastor. Finally, Doverest placed a cup of coffee before each of them. Erik added cream and sugar, and waited for Dovecrest to sit down. Once he had, Erik slid the file with pictures of the altar stone and the accompanying story across the table to him.

  Dovecrest looked at the pictures without showing any surprise, then nodded as he looked over the newspaper clipping.

  “I think you know what this all means,” Erik said. “And I’d like to hear about it.”

  Pastor Mark nodded. “I’m interested, too.”

  Dovecrest looked back and forth from one to another, and Erik could tell from his expression that the man was having an internal struggle about what to say next.

  “I don’t think you’ll believe me,” Dovecrest said.

  “Just tell us what you know,” Erik replied. “At this point I think I’m ready to believe anything.”

  “OK. First of all, let me begin by saying that I’m an old man.”

  Mark nodded. “We’re all getting older.”

  “No,” Dovecrest corrected. “I’m an old man. But I’m not getting any older. I was born just about 350 years ago, right here in this forest.”

  “That’s impossible…,” Erik said, and Dovecrest held up his hand.

  “See, I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “OK, ok. I’m sorry. Go on with your story.”

  “I was born about 350 years ago in this forest, and I became the medicine man for the tribe. Mostly I’d heal cuts and bruises, and give out herbs to women trying to have babies. There wasn’t much too it, really, until the Evil Ones came.”

  “The evil ones?” Mark asked.

  “Yes. The evil ones. You see, the founder of this place, Roger Williams, said that anyone could live here and worship whatever god they chose in whatever way they chose. So people from all beliefs and all faiths were drawn to this place. That’s why the Evil Ones came. So they could worship their evil god and his demons.

  “Only worshipping the devil wasn’t exactly what Roger Williams had in mind. His idea of religious freedom didn’t go that far, so he drove the Evil Ones away from the city and into the forest. They came here, to this place.”

  “So you’re saying that a group of devil worshippers lived here in the late 1600’s?” Erik asked.

  “Yes. But their ways of worship were evil and included death and suffering. This stone in the picture is real-very real. They built it from a rock that fell from the sky, and they would sacrifice living men, women, and children upon it.

  “The tribe didn’t like what was going on. We worship a good god, a god of life who cares for his people, not a god of pain and suffering. Even so, we might not have interfered if our own children did not start to disappear.

  “So we sent a messenger to the city to Roger Williams. We did not want war with the city or with the white man, but we could no longer tolerate the Evil Ones. Roger Williams agreed that these Evil Ones must be stopped. Some white men came and helped us. We rounded up the evil ones and put them to death. There were twelve of them and their leader. The twelve were killed swiftly. But the leader was infested with a powerful demon that had to be killed by fire.

  “The men from the city told us we would have to build a huge fire and tie the leader to a stake in the center where he would be burned alive. So that is what we did. As he burned, we could hear the demon within him screaming. And the demon promised us that it would be back, and be more powerful than ever before. The burning didn’t kill the demon; it only drove it back into the pits of hell. And it has been waiting for a chance to return ever since.

  “As the medicine man, I was given charge to watch over this place and make sure the demon did not return. And since that time I have watched. God has entrusted me with this duty, and after I reached my 60th birthday, he granted me the gift of never growing older.”

  The Indian stopped for a moment and smiled. “I only wish I could have been granted that gift at the age of 30.”

  Erik and Mark forced a small laugh.

  “And so now the demon is coming back?”

  “I am afraid so, my friend.”

  “These Evil Ones,” Erik said. “What happened to their bodies?”

  “They were buried along with the ashes of their leader, and markers were put in place to keep them dead.”

  “The historical graveyard,” Erik said.

  “Yes.”

  “The graveyard was disturbed by a bulldozer when the new road was put through. That’s what started all of this.”

  “Yes,” Dovecrest said. “I feared that is what happened. Now I know it for sure.”

  “The altar stone,” Erik said. “Why wasn’t it destroyed?”

  “It cannot be destroyed. It was formed with powerful magic from beyond the earth itself. We have tried to destroy it, but it cannot be destroyed.”

  “So what, exactly, is happening now?” Mark asked.

  “The demon is trying to come back. It feeds off of the pain and suffering of others. It demands a sacrifice, and grows stronger with each one. After it has grown strong enough, it will appear on earth in the flesh, where it will kill and destroy.”

  “The missing girl-was she….”

  “She was sacrificed tonight. The demon has a new group of followers and they took her to the altar. I thought I could stop them, but I failed. She was killed.”

  “We’re going to have to call the sheriff,” Mark said.

  “It won’t do any good,” Dovecrest said. “The law won’t help us now. The girl is dead and they won’t find her-unless it wa
nts her to be found. I wounded the leader and I may have killed one of the others. But it will find replacements easily enough. No. We’re going to have to handle this ourselves.”

  “But how?” Erik asked. “Do we burn the leader at the stake again?”

  “That won’t destroy it. That only sends it back to where it comes from. Then it will come back again. I think the only way to destroy it is to go to where it comes from.”

  “In other words, you need to go to hell,” Erik said, and then realized that what he said might sound flippant.

  “Yes,” Dovecrest said. “I think that’s exactly what has to be done.”

  “Ok,” the pastor said. “Suppose you’re right. Suppose the only way to destroy this thing it to go where it lives, even if that place is hell. How do you get there?”

  Dovecrest swallowed the last of his coffee and thought for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I just don’t know.”

  4

  Vickie was waiting for him when Erik got home. “Where have you been?” she asked. “I was so worried. “It’s almost ten o’clock.”

  “I ran into Pastor Mark and we went for coffee,” he explained. “I’m sorry, Vic. I should have called.”

  “It’s all right,” she said. “But with all that’s been going on, I was worried about you.”

  “Thanks,” he said, giving her a hug. “It’s nice to be worried about. But I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  She smiled at him. “Todd was worried too, for a little while. Then he said it was ok, that you were all right. It’s like he knew.”

  “Is he sleeping?”

  “He’s in bed. Sleeping? I don’t know about that.”

  “I’ll go check on him.”

  Erik found that his son was still awake, but at least he was quiet and in bed with just a nightlight on. He wouldn’t go to bed without it any more.

 

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