by J. P. Willie
The drums would stop every now and then, offering the briefest of respites before picking up once more, their tribal beat resounding through our little trailer; I was scared, and I knew that Momma was scared too, even though she never actually admitted as much until I was much older. Momma reached up to the side window and pulled it open, poked her head out into the night and looked up at the sky.
“It’s a full moon,” Momma said as she ducked her head back inside the trailer. She looked sternly at Hunter and I. “Go to bed, boys. Everything is going to be okay. It’s just those damned kids again.”
Momma was lying to us. I saw the fear in her eyes, even though she was trying hard to hide it.
The sounds that came from the night made my imagination run wild with all sorts of weird bullshit; Crazy renegade Indians, deranged cannibalistic hillbillies that lived in the woods, shit like that. Although, I guess the real reason I was so scared was because I saw the true distress in my mother’s eyes, a look which was so incredibly foreign to me. I looked across at her, nodded and grabbed Hunter by the hand. I walked him to his bedroom, told him goodnight and then went quietly to my own room.
As I opened my door, I glanced back at Momma and she was on the phone, looking out the window and up at the night sky again.
I said nothing, and went to bed with my imagination running wild.
CHAPTER SIX
Summer of Truth
“Hello?” Jerry’s voice was disoriented; the shrill ringing of the telephone had woken him from a deep sleep.
“Daddy, I’m sorry I’m calling so late, but do you hear those drums in the woods?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sissy,” Jerry replied.
“Could you meet me out by the shed in a few minutes?” Gayla asked.
“Sure, let me get my slippers on, and I’ll meet you out there,” Jerry replied as he pulled the covers off his body and rolled out of bed.
“Okay. See you in a few. Bye.” Gayla hung up the phone and went down the hall to peek in on her boys. They were both knocked out cold, so she turned around and headed toward the front door.
Jerry was already standing outside by the shed with his arms crossed and listening intently to the drums by the time Gayla showed, his shadow cast by the full moon making him look like a giant from some kid’s fantasy novel.
Gayla could tell that he was studying the situation, and was a hundred percent in tune with everything going on around him.
“You do know what’s going on here, don’t you, Sissy?” Jerry spoke quietly.
“No, Daddy, I don’t,” Gayla admitted, in a hushed voice.
“Have you been watching the news?” Jerry asked her.
“Not really. I’m busy with the kids during the day, and at night we watch movies.”
“It seems we have a serious problem in Hammond,” Jerry said. “The world is changing again, and as the Bible tells us, it’s only going to get worse before the End of Days. The unthinkable will become normal, and evil men and women will roam freely all over His earth.”
Gayla said nothing, just stood in the silvery light of the full moon and listened to her father.
“As a vigilant parent to you and your brother, I have protected you from certain things since the day you were born,” Jerry took a small pause, as if to select just the right words, “You protect the ones you love, Sissy. That’s what it boils down to. Do you remember the time your brother told us about the men he thought he saw in the woods? The ones he said were dressed in black robes?”
“Yeah,” Gayla replied, her mind racing. “You never really told us what that was all about, though. I’d pretty much forgotten about it over the years.”
“And do you also remember the little incident with Lewis Rhine?”
“Sure do. But you never told me what that was all about, either.”
“I never told you – or your brother – the truth about what happened that day in the woods, because I didn’t want to scare you. Both of you were too young to understand at that point in time, but now you do need to know the truth.”
“Well?”
“It was Devil worshippers that your brother saw, Sissy,” Jerry said calmly, as if he were merely discussing the weather, “disciples of Satan himself.”
Gayla’s mouth dropped open at this, she’d never heard her father speak of such things before and it was kinda scary.
“He saw a group of them that day in the woods with the Benson boys. I didn’t want to believe that it was really happening; we’d been discussing it in the church for about a year before your brother saw what he saw. The church advised that we keep an eye out for ourselves and most importantly, our families and children. So that’s just what I did, Sissy. I tried my best to keep you all away from it,” Jerry let out an audible sigh, “But now that you are mature enough to understand, and have kids of your own, I figure I can tell you without scaring you too much.”
“I’m glad you’re finally having this discussion with me, Daddy,” Gayla said softly, “so, what did happen with Lewis Rhine?”
“They cut the hearts out of his cows, Sissy,” Jerry said, his voice catching in his throat. “That’s why I took Rambo to the shelter, because I knew it would happen again on the next full moon, and that when it did, Rhine wouldn’t be able to say a damned word.
“So, as you can hear,” Jerry raised a hand and pointed toward the woods, “they are very active on the full moon. That is when they perform their ceremonies and sacrifices.” He lowered his hand quickly, as if fearing the wrath of the drumbeaters. “Those people are different from Satanists, though. Satanists believe that people should live out their lusts and desires, enthusiastically exploring the seven deadly sins with other consenting adults. They believe children and animals are the purest expressions of life, and are to be held sacred and precious.” He paused, as if for thought.
Gayla stared, wide-eyed at the father she thought she knew so well. Since when had he become such an authority on the dark arts?
“Devil worshippers, on the other hand,” Jerry continued, “will happily kill in the name of the Devil. Devil worshippers are immature and unstable, believing that Satan is a dragon that lives within the earth and is pleased when blood-filled rituals are offered to him.
“Devil worship appears to be becoming very popular across America these days. Many sick, twisted people are flocking toward it to do bad things in the name of the Devil. And I’m afraid that they are giving Satanists – along with others who practice alternative religions – a bad name.” Jerry brought his hand up to his mustache and ran his fingers through it.
“Everyone who walks this earth has a right to choose their own religion, Sissy, but one man’s religion can be another man’s excuse for depravity. What better place for a vicious, cruel, evil-intended mind and heart to be in than a so-called satanic cult? How many times have you heard a killer say that the Devil made them do it, or even in some cases, God?” Jerry asked his daughter.
“I could probably name a few who’ve said both,” Gayla replied.
“Exactly! It’s simply a way for evil people to evade responsibility – by blaming religion. People can make their religion fit whatever their hearts desire, they step away from the guidelines and make it their own. To be honest, more people have been killed in the name of Christ than Satan; did you know that, Sissy?”
Gayla didn’t respond.
“Tell me, what does any religion, either Christian or Satanic, have to do with an already evil individual?” Jerry asked.
Gayla thought about it for a second, and then replied, “Nothing.”
“You’re right. Such a person is already evil and intent on doing evil things. You can’t blame that on any religion, people like that already have darkness in their souls and there isn’t anything anyone can do to change that. The only person who could save them is God, but as the Bible says, God has a plan for us all. The devil can only touch you if God lets him, and the book of Job tells us that.” Jerry stroked his
‘tache once more, as he always did when immersed in thought.
“I have a feeling that bad things are going to start happening around here, Sissy,” he said. “There are folk in Hammond who are only too happy to use Devil worship as an excuse to do terrible things.”
“Like what, Daddy?” Gayla was truly scared now, she’d never seen fear in her father’s eyes before, and it was terrifying.
“A talk show ran a show on Devil worship the other day, and it was very disturbing. The host claimed that children are being sacrificed to the Devil in many towns across America. He said that babies and children are killed, and that many law enforcement and high-profile political figures are in on it.”
Gayla couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This was all horrifying to her, but somewhere deep down in her soul, it seemed like she had known all of this already. She was scared for her boys, and for sure didn’t want them anywhere near the woods, or those people who were banging so relentlessly on their drums.
But, they didn’t just walk around town wearing a Hello... I worship the Devil and kill kids tee-shirt. No, they’d be so incredibly secretive about it, sort of like an evil version of the Freemasons; one never knew who was in until they approached you to join.
“I can’t believe this, Daddy,” Gayla said, shaking her head.
“Everything is going to be okay, Sissy, I promise you. But there is one thing,” Jerry said.
He then turned away from the woods to face his daughter. “There was a twelve-year-old girl kidnapped from Albany two days ago, and no one knows where she is. As you well know, Albany is only just up the road from us and that’s why I asked if you had seen the news lately.
“The Hammond and Albany police departments are looking for her, but I don’t think they will have any luck.” Jerry’s eyes saddened, a tear glistened in each.
“The police also found the cemetery behind the Hammond High School desecrated. Bodies pulled from graves, graffiti spray-painted on the tombstones, you name it – it was destroyed.” Jerry rocked back and forth on his feet, as if trying to not let the drums distract him from finishing his story. “I think God is trying to tell me something, Sissy, and I strongly believe that those drums we’re hearing have a lot to do with what’s been going on.” Jerry raised his arms and placed his broad hands on his daughter’s shoulders. “Not all Devil worshippers have evil intentions, Sissy, but the ones around here – I think do.”
“What?” Gayla asked, but the word only came out as a whisper.
“Keep an eye on those boys of yours, Sissy, but don’t tell them what we’ve talked about tonight. You don’t want to scare them; they’re too young. But you do need to warn them to stay away from strangers – and those woods.” Jerry kissed his daughter on the forehead, a tender, fatherly kiss. “Now get back inside before the boogey man gets us.” He offered a wry smile, a fond, shared memory of more innocent times gone by.
“Of course,” Gayla smiled back through her confusion, “I have to pick up the house anyways.”
“Those boys sure are something else, aren’t they?” Jerry asked as he turned to go.
“They sure are, Daddy,” Gayla replied.
“Goodnight, Sissy.”
“Night, Daddy,” Gayla said, and headed toward the trailer.
Jerry paused awhile and stood in the pale moonlight and watched his daughter make her way back to her home. He tilted his head to the nighttime sky and admired the stars that God had seen fit to spread across the black velvet of the heavens. He muttered a small prayer beneath his breath for the missing twelve-year-old girl, and for his own family; no matter how much the world changed, or how weird things got, you always had to find a moment in life to admire the beauty around you – and that night, Jerry Jones did just that.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE OFFERING OF AMANDA
It had been about an hour since Amanda Parsons of Albany, Louisiana, had heard the last beating of the drums.
She was blindfolded with duct tape wrapped around her mouth, wrist and ankles. She was in some strangers’ van and she was hoping that they’d forgotten all about her.
She could hear the racket outside, a bunch of scary yelling and chanting, and no matter how hard she tried, Amanda couldn’t stop crying – the cloth blindfold was soaking wet with her tears.
All she could think about was her mother, father, the cute teddy bear she been given for her twelfth birthday, and her little brother, who was only two years old. Why hadn’t she just listened to her parents when they’d told her to be home before dark? She’d been having way too much fun with her friends at the park to think about such things, and as it transpired, it was pretty much dark when she’d finally headed home.
She’d been about a block away from her home when the silver van pulled up beside her and two men dressed all in black had jumped out, grabbed her, and carried her into the vehicle.
Amanda wondered just how long she’d been missing now. It was difficult to tell, almost as if time had stood still in the cold, hard interior of the van. Was it days? Weeks? She honestly didn’t know, for minutes felt like hours to her, the hours, like days in a never-ending nightmare. As Amanda sat sobbing in the van, she noticed the duct tape around her wrist and ankles was working loose. It didn’t matter to her though, as she had finally come to realize she was never going to make it back home to her family. Whoever the people who had snatched her were, they clearly had no intention of letting their prize go.
Suddenly, the side door of the van slid open. Amanda jumped back, startled. The van shook as people clambered in, and three separate, distinct voices could be heard; two of which were definitely male, the third a female. Amanda heard the driver’s side door shut, and a moment later two more male voices joined the group.
“Start the van. The witching hour is almost upon us,” spat the female voice. The driver started up the van, and in a matter of seconds Amanda was on the way to a new destination.
“She is such a beautiful piece of flesh,” the woman said as she stroked her fingers across Amanda’s cheek. “We were watching you for a couple of days, Princess. We decided to take you instead of one of your friends, you were just so much prettier than them,” said the woman in a cold, heartless voice.
At that moment, Amanda felt a hand upon her thigh. It made its way to her zipper and began undoing the button to her pants. Amanda tried her best to resist.
The woman yelled, “Hold her down, Goddamn it!” Amanda kicked and squirmed with all her might, until she felt the cold steel of a knife press up against her throat.
At this, the little girl froze.
“Move one more time, Princess, and I’ll cut you from ear to ear,” snarled a man whose breath smelled like something dead and decaying.
Amanda quit moving as they cut the duct tape from her ankles and slid her pants all the way down to leave her in nothing but her panties. She felt sick to her stomach and began to dry heave, but nothing much came up.
“Now, now – look at those cute little panties. Can I have those?” asked the woman.
Amanda shook her head vigorously.
“No?” said the woman. “I think I’ll take them anyway, Princess.”
The man who held the knife to Amanda’s throat took it away from her neck and slid it down her midline. Amanda felt the knife on her inner thigh as it cut through the elastic of her panties. She was completely horrified; the only people who had ever seen her naked before were her mother and father, and that had been when she was much younger. Now, Amanda knew that there were at least two strangers looking at her vulnerable body, and she felt ashamed.
“There is nothing quite like a child’s innocence. So pure... so very perfect,” the woman purred, running her hand up Amanda’s bare inner thigh. “Now, this might feel a little bit funny to you, Princess. You might not like it – but honestly, I don’t really care all that much.”
***
“We’re here,” said the driver, “cut the bullshit and get her out of the van.”
<
br /> The door to the van opened and a new voice spoke up, a low, rumbling voice that resonated through Amanda’s terrified mind – she assumed that this participant had been waiting for them to arrive. “Get her inside the house and prepare her for the ceremony. We don’t have much time,” it said.
Someone grabbed Amanda her by the wrists, with another grabbing her ankles. The two men jolted her up into the air, and away from the cruel, cold floor of the van and carried her like a suckling pig on a stick toward an old, run-down house.
Amanda heard the door to the house close behind her, and she felt someone cutting the duct tape from her wrist. She had a fleeting moment of relief; she could finally move her arms, but before she could even stretch back, someone ripped her shirt off with a violent yank. The only thing she wore now was the blindfold, still tied tight around her eyes and the duct tape over her mouth. Her legs shook from exhaustion and fear and she wanted nothing more than to fall to the ground. But Amanda couldn’t even do that, for someone had placed a hand under her armpit to prevent her from dropping.
“Sit the fuck down, you little cunt!” shouted the man with the deep voice.
Amanda’s heart felt like it was about to explode, but she knew she had to stay strong. So, she did as she was told, and bent down until her hands felt the floor, slowly bringing the rest of her body down after them.
“You all have three minutes to change, and then it begins,” instructed the chilling, ever deep voice.
Everyone in the room nodded their heads and began. Amanda heard the rustling sounds as they quickly stripped naked.
Unbeknownst to the little girl, each one of the individuals in the room had a duffle bag, which contained the thick, heavy ceremonial robes they would wear for the night’s ceremonies.
What is going on? Amanda asked herself, so many memories running through her trembling mind; the time her mother read her Little Red Riding Hood before she went to sleep –“Mom... is the Big Bad Wolf real?”
“No, sweetheart. He’s not real.”
