More blood rained from the ceiling, hitting the floor with a faint "pitter-patter." Eden saw a door beyond the altar, and she no longer cared where it led. It could have taken her into the massive jaws of a monster, but she would have rather been there then in this horrible room.
When she reached the altar, she tripped over the stairs and paused only long enough to see a piece of paper crumbled on the floor with writing on it. She darted past it, sprinted through the exit, and then leapt inside and came into a dark, crimson-lined hallway. She skidded to a stop and leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
"Why? Why is that place here?"
She shook her head again and again, trying to chase away the memory of that mural. She didn't want to see it, but yet it was so engrained in her memory it came back again and again. Even if she had watched her mom die and seen her corpse lying on the ground, it would not have affected her the way seeing that room did.
As she tried to calm herself down, she shut her eyes. She prayed the exit was right around the corner, though she knew it wouldn't be.
I don't want to remember this place. A part of her wanted to take the coward's way out. She wanted to take a stone and destroy herself so she could reincarnate out of Zemiothstai. But even then, she doubted she would ever forget this place. It was a part of her now, she realized. Ingrained into her soul.
The thought horrified her, but she knew it was true. She couldn't believe the angels and God would allow this. She glanced down at her chest and saw the flaming cross and tried to focus on that. She could get out of here. No, she had to get out of here. If she was having this much trouble, she couldn't imagine what her mom was going through.
She finally had the courage to look at the passage where she stood. It was built like the church behind her. The walls were smoothed and granite, but everything was draped in that same red silk. Shivering, she took a step forward, just thanking God there were no evil murals this time.
When she rounded a corner, she saw there was a red box at the end of the passage. She approached it, concerned, and then bent over it. The red appeared to be blood enclosed in translucent stone material. She shuddered.
The red stone… Her eyes widened in realization. This stone is made from the blood of Satan's victims.
She stared at the trunk. I shouldn't open it. What if something evil is inside? She stood up and stepped away, but she couldn't stop staring at the chest. There was something about it that made her want to look further.
Though she tried to step away, she found that she couldn't. The urge to open the box was ten times stronger than any she had felt before. She had to look inside.
It was at that moment she realized it was in her head. The box was in her head, or maybe whatever was in the box. Don't do it, Eden, she said to herself. Don't do it.
But she stepped forward anyway and bent down again. She seized the top of the chest, and though it was heavy, she threw it open and it moaned. She stared at an empty bed of silk and an engraved chest top that said Blood Stone.
"It's gone," Eden said.
The cross on her chest grew so hot it hurt. She stared at the empty box and felt dread. That stone must have terrible powers to be in a place as horrible as this, and it was missing. She felt ill. Mentally ill. A memory came rushing back.
"No tasks mean no getting to heaven. May God have mercy on us all."
She stood up abruptly and stared at the stone. This stone can't be the reason we're not getting to heaven just because I found the empty chest. Coincidences like that just don't happen. It's just chance.
But her heart told her otherwise. She went to Jophiel and was forced down here. She held a cross that fought darkness no one else had, and she had been told she had no tasks. Then there were the whispers, whispers of people unseen.
"Why me?" she asked.
There was no answer. She didn't know whether she was right or not. All she knew was she was trapped in this pit with nothing but an empty chest as a hint. Maybe if she knew where the stone was or how to get out of here, she could get somewhere…
Then she remembered something. There had been a crumbled paper in the Church of Satan. She would have to go back into the room to get it.
Chapter Sixteen
Eden stepped into the passageway and gazed up. Horror filled her, but she noted the mural had stopped bleeding. She stared down at the floor and discovered there was no blood at all. It had just evaporated, or maybe it had just dissolved into the floor. She frowned.
It'll be okay. She stepped forward, glanced down, and saw the piece of paper she was looking for. She was just about to bend to pick it up when she heard a door open and shut. It was in one of the other passages, but the intruder must have been close. Eyes wide with fear, Eden leapt forward, seized the paper, and rolled underneath the pews and lay on her stomach.
Maybe she had been tricked. Maybe the creature that had sent her in here had also created the piece of paper she had just grabbed. She stared down at it and saw the writing was neat and scripted. Unfortunately, she didn't have time to read it so she shoved it into her pants.
The door to the church opened and closed, and Eden heard two sets of footsteps. They sounded human. Being where she was, she didn't know whether or not to be happy about that. Her adventures were probably about to come to an end. Then she heard voices.
"Yuri is going to kill you when he hears about this," one gruff male said.
"Yuri would yell at anyone if they stood still for more than a minute," an answering voice said. It was also male and sounded much kinder.
Silence filled the room, and both footsteps stopped.
"Do we have to be here?" the kinder voice said. "I hate this church. It's disgusting."
"Watch your mouth," the gruff male said. "Remember who we work for."
"Yeah, yeah."
Eden shifted in her seat for a minute and then caught sight of two male Demons. The gruff-voiced male was a heavyset man in his mid-forties with a thick beard and crooked teeth. The kind-faced man appeared to be in his early to mid-twenties and had messy blonde hair, blue eyes, and a tight mouth. Both of them wore uniforms of all black and glanced at the ceiling.
The gruff-voiced man punched the kind-faced man in the ribs. "Aaron, quit distracting me. We've got to go."
"Yeah, yeah," Aaron said. Then he moved a step to her left.
And stared directly into Eden's eyes. She was caught.
"Uh, Jove," Aaron said, his eyes not leaving Eden's face. "We may have a problem."
"Not now," Jove said. "We've got to find that paper that the boss dropped."
"We have bigger problems."
Before Eden could personally discover what Aaron and Jove did with "bigger problems," she rolled out from under the pew and then sprinted toward the double-doors, forgetting momentarily that she was locked in. When she reached them, she swore and struggled. The cross on her chest grew so bright it blinded her, and her arms were filled with supernatural strength. She felt the stone churn and saw dust fly, but she ignored it. She was almost there.
"That's impossible," Jove said. "Those doors would take ten thousand men to open that way."
Aaron grabbed her elbow, and she was suddenly falling down a long black slide.
****
Not again. Not now.
Eden continued to fall down the slide at a rapid pace and saw a white light appear beneath her. She fell into it and landed on her back with crippling pain. When she opened her eyes, there was curly blond hair in her face and she sat before a stern-faced couple. The woman had curly blonde hair like Aaron, and the man was thin and bespectacled with thick black eyebrows.
There was no doubt in Eden's mind whose memories she had just disappeared into. She was Aaron.
"Have you ever thought about going to Canada?" the blonde-haired woman asked.
What does she take me for? A coward?
He shook his head, angry. "Don't be ridiculous, Mom. Dad, you agree that I should fight, don't you? Don't you?"
> "You were always a coward." His dad gave him a stern scowl. "Don't pretend to be honorable now."
Aaron scowled and banged his fists against the table causing it to rock back and forth. He scowled at them both and stomped out of the living room and into an airy kitchen. After that, he headed into the foyer, went left, and then headed up a flight of stairs and into the hallway above. The hallway showed many pictures of a younger, blond haired boy and a small, mousy girl, but there were no pictures of Aaron there.
Scowling, he entered a room at the end of the hallway that had a small bed, a collection of books on the wall, and a stack of papers on the bed. Aaron walked over to the bed, sat down, and stared at the papers.
The papers were for the army. He had enlisted and was due to have his physical check-up.
I'm not a coward. I hate my parents, but I love it here. I'll fight in Vietnam no matter what.
Fear filled Eden's mind, along with anxiety. Aaron lay back on his bed and glanced out the window across the street.
But I'll miss you, Patrice. I've always liked long-haired blondes.
With a grin, he reached into the bedside table and pulled out a pair of binoculars. He pushed them against his nose and peered out the window and into the bedroom of the girl next door. She was in the middle of changing her clothes.
A moment into her changing, the girl shivered, wrapped her arms around her chest, and then stared out the window. Horror filled her face as she closed the blinds. A dismaying thought struck Eden. That poor girl looked just like her.
Before she had time to dwell on this, she was ripped out of his world and into the black tunnel again. I want to go back. Please send me back. This is one person's mind I don't want to be in. But then she remembered the room she had just lived through and realized that being in a pervert’s brain might be a preferable choice.
As she had this thought, she was immersed in blinding white light and cried out, but when she tried to put her hands over her eyes to shield herself, she wasn't able. She was paralyzed again.
Look for signs. Wood crosses. Wood crosses equal bombs.
The land was lush and green, the sky was blue, and the rivers ran across the land. The air smelled of fire and of sulfur. Aaron's hand trembled on his rifle, and fear was so thick in the air someone could have chewed on it.
He had just walked several more steps when one of his comrades let out a loud, pained wail to his right. He whirled around and saw a bulky brown-haired man who had his foot stuck in a trap that was made from sharp wooden prongs. His foot was bleeding where the prongs had gone all the way through and his face was red as he gritted his teeth.
"Oh heavens," Aaron said, as he and the rest of his squadron stopped. "Malan."
"What are you doing?" the sergeant at the front barked.
"Sergeant Baum," Aaron said, "Malan's foot is trapped."
Sergeant Baum marched over. Sergeant Baum was tan with a short blond crew cut and blue eyes.
"Who here volunteers to carry this idiot back to camp?" Sergeant Baum asked.
"I do," Aaron said without hesitation.
"You do, do you?" Sergeant Baum raised an eyebrow. "He's a lot bigger than you are, runt."
"I'll do it," Aaron said, gritting his teeth.
"Fine," Sergeant Baum said. "Having to carry him across the terrain is enough punishment for you being smart with me, Mr. Rickson."
"Yes, sir."
Stepping forward, he bent down and grabbed Malan's ankle.
"We're going to have to get your foot out of the trap first," Aaron said. "It's going to hurt."
"Do you think having my foot stuck feels any better?" Malan barked. "It went all the way through. Vietcong. Makes me want to kill them even more."
Grimacing, Aaron helped Malan pull his foot free from the sharp wooden prongs. Malan let out a howl of pain and horror as blood dribbled down the sides of his shoe. Aaron glanced around nervously.
What if somebody hears us? They'll kill us.
Straightening, Aaron gazed at Malan and then spun around. "Get on. Somebody's bound to have heard that."
Malan clambered onto Aaron's back, and Aaron felt pain and pressure nearly break him. Swearing, he grasped onto Malan's legs and winced beneath the weight.
What has this guy been eating? Horses?
He took one step forward, and then another, thinking, Maybe someday, this guy will get to go home.
Just as pain shot through her back, Eden was ripped from the memory and into a black, bleak world. An even brighter light appeared at the end of the slope, and she glanced down at it, not wanting to go to it but feeling well aware that she had no other choice.
This time, she shut her eyes as she rushed down the black slide and landed in another world. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that Aaron was once again in a jungle. This time, he was in trouble.
Vietnamese soldiers had Aaron and the other warriors at his side at gun point. All of them were tied up. A single Vietnamese fighter walked back and forth in front of them, and a single man, shaking and bruised, stood next to them. Though Aaron did not recognize him, he wore a U.S. Army uniform.
"Traitor," Aaron said, eyes narrowed.
The man glanced in his direction.
Why would he stand next to the Vietcong? I want to spit in all of their faces. He's betraying all of America.
One of the Vietcong stepped forward and began to speak. He spoke in Vietnamese and Aaron could not understand what he was saying. Fear coursed through his body.
I'm going to die, aren't I?
The U.S. Army soldier, the traitor that stood by the Vietcong, stepped forward and began to speak.
"You are now prisoners of war. Unfortunately, the prisons are…" The U.S. Army soldier stopped and gulped, and the Vietcong shoved him forward. "The prisons are growing full. In order to live and become imprisoned, you will have to denounce your country and proclaim communism as the one true government."
Once again, the U.S. Army private gulped and glanced at the Vietcong leader. His Adam's apple bobbed. The Vietcong leader whispered something to him, shoved him forward again, and the man stepped forward.
"If you do not denounce your country, then you…" The U.S. Army soldier shuddered. "Then you will be executed immediately."
Someone beside Aaron gasped. He did not look at him. Instead he stared straight ahead and felt intense fear in his stomach.
I can't denounce my country, but I don't want to die. Oh, no. Why? Why? Why?
The Vietnamese men began to laugh. The Vietcong leader and the U.S. Army soldier walked to the left side of the line, three men away from Aaron. Aaron moved, but he did not look down.
I have to denounce it. No, I can't do that. It's my country I'm fighting for here.
A Vietnamese soldier pressed his gun to the first man in the line's head. The man gasped.
"Please, my girlfriend is pregnant," the man said.
"Do you denounce it?" the U.S. Army soldier asked.
The man paused for only a minute and then said, softly, "Yes."
The Vietnamese began to laugh and poked the man with their gun. One of the Vietnamese drew back his leg and kicked him, but the man was not shot.
The Vietcong stopped at the second man in line. A gun was also leveled at his head.
"Do you denounce it?" the U.S. Army soldier repeated, his voice quiet.
"Yes," the man said.
Once again, the gun was lowered. The man sobbed as one of the Vietcong grabbed him by his head, kicked him in his stomach, and then began to drag him away, toward an unknown destination.
What am I going to say? I don't know. My mind is blank.
Horror filled him as Aaron stared at the gun that would, in only seconds, be pressed against his head. He gulped.
"Do you denounce it?" the U.S. Army soldier said for the third time.
This man took longer to decide. He gulped and glanced down. One of the Vietcong grabbed him by the back of his head and caressed his neck with a knife.
&n
bsp; "Do you?" the U.S. Army soldier asked.
"Yes," the man said, gasping for relief when the Vietcong lowered his knife but began to punch him in the ribs instead.
Everything slowed down as the Vietcong moved toward Aaron and a gun was pointed at his head. He could look down the barrel and could swear he could see the bullet inside of the chamber. He gulped in fear.
"Do you denounce it?" the U.S. Army man said, looking him in his eye.
"No," Aaron said.
I guess I knew what I was going to say. I guess I knew the whole time. I love my country too much.
"Are you sure?" the U.S. Army soldier asked, eyes wide with surprise. "Did you misunderstand?"
"I won't denounce it," he said. "Those that do are cowards."
The Vietcong leader sneered and then leaned over and said something in to Vietnamese to his men. Aaron knew what it was. "Shoot him." He shut his eyes and then heard the sound of gunfire, but he did not feel regret.
When she entered the dark world again, she knew that she was heading back to Zemiothstai. Her Zemiothstai. Oh, no, I'm going back to Aaron. He appears to be a good guy in the visions, but now… She gulped at the prospect of the two Demons and the Church of Satan, but even though she struggled as she was once again pulled toward a wave of light, she could not fight her fate and was pushed back into the world that she dreaded entering the most.
Chapter Seventeen
Eden opened her eyes and grumbled. Aaron stared at her with a gaping mouth, and she knew she was in trouble then. Not only was he Demon, but she had seen the way he had gazed hungrily into his next-door neighbor's window. Maybe he had been patriotic once, but now, he had an edge. She was just determined to get away.
"Jove, I think that she's—"
With all the strength that she could muster, she hit Aaron square in his eye and knocked him on his butt with an "ooph" of expelled air. She leapt off the pew and began to sprint toward the door where she found the chest, only Jove had her by her waist before she could even blink.
No, no, no. I'm not going to let it happen this way.
Jove made the mistake of laying a fat hand across her mouth, and dead or not, her teeth still worked just fine as she sank them into his finger. Swearing, he released her, and she whipped around and knocked him to the ground with her knee using an old aerobics move that she had learned from Rebecca. She sprung on top of him, unsure of what she wanted to do with him, only knowing that she had to keep him from unsheathing his sword.
Until We Meet Again Page 10
