Will intervened, "No, sorry Tal, you're with me." He came between them, purposefully ignoring a tiny look of disappointment in Jim's eyes and took his sister's arm in his. He led her into the church's foyer and glanced about.
There was a large red-brown stain on the floor just to the side of the Baptismal font. At the sight, his fear, ignored by him with the stress of his sister, now began throbbing like a toothache, sitting in his chest like a stone. It put out little feelers, spider like arms that crept down his veins and into his hands and these began to shake at the sight of the stain. The stain was very large. When Talitha began sniffing at it, dog like, he became repulsed and pulled her away.
"Where to, Father?" he asked, putting his back to the stain, his mind however, was still on it.
"Just down here," Father John lead the way into the church, taking a quick right in the main room, he went to a set of double doors that led to a long hallway.
Will stopped just inside the hallway. A vision of what he was about to face came to him then.
At the end of the hallway was a door, behind which were stairs that led down into a darkened corridor, a corridor that seemed almost a tunnel. There was only a single bulb midway down it and standing stooped over beneath it, clutching themselves in fear were two men. They sweated freely and they both had a mad look about them. A sudden noise and Will was sure they would flee in terror.
His visions were beyond his control and he looked past the men despite a tremendous desire not to. The corridor was black at the end and he could barely make out the lines of a thick heavy door. Death lay beyond that door. But whose death, and when and how, these were unanswered. He only had a certain knowledge that someone would be dead soon.
He saw into the room, then. It was lit also by a single bulb and what it threw its feeble light on caused his mind to rebel and thankfully, mercifully at that point the vision ended.
Talitha knew from long experience what was going on and stood still waiting for Will to come out from his vision. When he did, she asked, "What's down there?"
At first he couldn't answer, the room had been covered in blood and now it was all his mind could see.
Chapter 13
Entering the Demon's Chapel
"You saw something, Will. I know you did, now tell me what." There was concern in her voice and that only made the horror that filled him worse.
"I don't know...maybe a real demon. I didn't see it. I just felt, something; something bad. And there was blood...lots of it. Maybe from the nun, but I don't think it was, at least not all of it." His mind wanted a replay of his vision and he shook his head with a frown.
Talitha bit her lip and grew silent and thoughtful. Jim, who had been ahead of them, was now most of the way down the hall. He turned with a look of worry on his homely features.
"Is there something going on?" His voice was loud in the empty building and it made Will cringe.
Hurrying forward with his sister, Will waited until he was closer before whispering, "I just had a bad feeling."
Jim eyed him with a queer expression and Will found that he couldn't look the man in the face. His fear was an embarrassment to him and he kept his eyes down. They started walking again, toward the door that Will knew would lead to the dark staircase.
Sweat stung his eyes and he tried to blink it away, to no avail. He made to wipe his face with his sleeve but as he watched his hand, shaking, come up, he stopped and brought it down quickly before anyone else could see it. His other hand, pressed around Talitha's arm shook as well and he wondered why she wasn't making a snide comment about it.
Looking down at her, he saw why; she was deep in concentration, her brow was furrowed and her right arm, thrown out, touched the wall as they walked. She seemed to be talking to herself or perhaps counting.
After a moment, she sniffed the air and it was then that Will caught a whiff of something sour and unpleasant.
The stench worsened as the three of them caught up with Father John, who stood waiting at the door at the end of the hall and when the priest opened it, Will fairly gagged. The aroma was like nothing he'd ever smelled before; it was a vile evil stench and his stomach rolled over.
Jim seemed strangely angry instead of afraid. "What's that smell?" he demanded of the priest.
"We don't know. It started yesterday afternoon and it just keeps getting worse," Father John's tan was paling before the smell and pasty white didn't suit his handsome face.
"That's not Sister Mary?" Jim asked, his anger slipping away into confusion.
"No, we moved her body into my office. The smell is something else." Will wasn't the only one sweating now; the priest wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his black tunic and started down the stairs.
Talitha didn't seem to mind the odor and sniffed repeatedly like a bloodhound on a trail, her blind eyes still narrowed in her concentration.
"Describe the room in front of us," she commanded her brother, her tone holding authority over him.
"It's not a room, it's the landing of some stairs leading down," Will said as he stepped in.
She breathed out loudly with annoyance. "Keep talking, any lights? Any windows?"
"Only one light, about four feet above your head and there won't be any more until we are down in the corridor below us. There aren't any windows, anything else?"
"Hey, how'd you know there aren't any more lights?" Father John's voice held more than a hint of suspicion. "Have you been down here before?"
Jim spoke up, using his normal voice, which again seemed unnecessarily and startlingly loud, after the whispers of the others, "He can see the future, Father. Or at least parts of it."
The priest eyed Will with an odd mixture of disbelief and reverence. "Really, Father Alba didn't mention…"
Talitha spoke over him, rude but uncaring, "Will, you say there's one light down there, what about in the room where the demon is?"
Father John answered first, clearly annoyed, "There's only a single one, but…"
She interrupted again, "Describe the fixture it's attached to."
The priest gave Will an exasperated look before answering, "It hangs from the ceiling on a chain and I don't know the wattage, in case you're wondering."
"I'm not wondering," she said sharply. "Come on, let's go down."
Will took her by the arm and steered her down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, just as in his vision, he saw the soft plump form of Father Alba standing, midway down the corridor under the light of the single bulb and with him was a large fat man, who sported a sheen of nervous sweat on his forehead, visible even at that distance.
They hurried down toward the two men, Will holding on to Talitha's arm, clutching it really, as if she were there to protect him. While she, just as before, trailed her hand along the damp concrete walls. Jim lumbered after, seemingly taking up the entire corridor behind them.
"Will…Will, how was your flight in?" Father Alba greeted them, trying to come across in a conversational tone, however his voice was high and reedy. He wore the gold and white vestments that were usually worn at the Easter mass, right down to the stole.
Will felt an urge to laugh at the ludicrous question, but smothered it. "It was fine." It had been an odd attempt at conversation and having failed, nobody looked to try again. A sudden quiet enveloped the six of them, as they stood close in to each other, huddling in the cone of pale light cast by the single bulb.
To Will, everything outside the light held dangerous and evil possibilities, especially the door at the end of the corridor. It held a dreadful fascination for him. Death lay beyond that door. He didn't know whose it would be, but at least one of the six of them, would be dead soon, and this included himself.
With each surreptitious glance down the hall, Will felt his heart thud in his chest just a bit harder and he tried not to look that way, but his only other option was to look into the faces of the people around him. He couldn't help but wonder who it would be, how it would happen and when.
His eyes se
ttled on the fat man, who he hadn't been introduced to and he felt an unpleasant shock when his mind let slip, I hope it's him. The appalling thought reverberated through him and he quickly looked away, embarrassed that he could think such a thing about a man he'd never met.
It was then that Talitha asked, "Who's the mouth breather?" Obviously referring to the man, Will had just wished would die in his place. Father Alba introduced him, "My apologies…my apologies, this is Sean Shay. He's a counselor here at our orphanage." Sean stuck out his large hand to Will, who sheepishly took it. He was only barely able to look into Sean's face, worried that his eyes would betray his improper thoughts.
However it was a painful realization that came along with the handshake: Sean Shay would not die that day, or the next or anytime in the foreseeable future. The muscles of Will's face began to jump again. His mind however was locked on to the fact that his odds of dying had just jumped up considerably and when he began rubbing his face, it was completely subconscious.
"What's the matter, Will?" Talitha asked from next to him, breaking in on his morbid calculations; somehow she always knew when he was troubled.
I hope it's that priest.
As before, the immoral thought just jumped into his mind. He put both hands to his face and groaned aloud, trying not to picture Father John, hoping not picture anyone.
"Will?" Jim asked. "You ok?"
"Yep...it's nothing...everything will be ok." He took two large breaths praying to God that he wouldn't wish death on anyone else.
"Is it a vision or the smell?" Jim's own face was pale and he was sweating as well. Jim took up almost the entire breadth of the corridor behind them and Will felt sudden claustrophobia. His chest began to constrict and he tried to look unobtrusively past Jim at the stairs further down, but he couldn't, not with everyone now staring at him.
"It's nothing...like I said." He was unconvincing even to himself.
"Yeah right, Will. You've always been the worst liar ever," Talitha said "You saw something...and judging by your pathetic attempts at lying, I'm guessing someone is going to die?" Mouths gaped at him and he kept his face down, afraid to look anyone in the eye. He was afraid he would see their death...or worse, afraid he wouldn't.
"It's true, but I don't know whose, or when." There was silence now in the corridor as each person considered the possibility that their own death was near at hand. "Remember that the future isn't set...if I can change it so that nobody dies, I will, ok?" Will added, but he felt no reassurance at his own words.
None of them were mollified in the least and fear was seen on all of their faces. Only Talitha seemed incapable of the dread of dying and she broke the moment of stunned silence that had come with Will's pronouncement of impending doom.
She smirked, with casual indifference to anyone's feelings. "Que sera sera, or maybe not with you around, Will. So if you're done seeing all of their deaths, Will, I need you to tell me about the room."
"The room?" Will pictured the room and his stomach rolled over again and he had to fight down his lunch. "It's a big room, maybe thirty feet long and there are shelves lining the walls with boxes on them. In the middle, there's crate, a wood box. It sit's under the light and just behind it on the floor is a mattress..." his voice trailed into a whisper and then into nothing. Lying on the mattress had been a body, or most of a body. He coughed. The vision and the stink making him queasy.
Talitha, small and frail looking compared to the men around her, took charge. "Good. Now listen up. If you want to get those children back you'll do what I say, exactly what I say. Any interference will jeopardize their lives and worse, piss me off."
"I think we understand. Consid…" Father John began but she cut right across him.
"And no unnecessary yapping! Do what I tell you and keep your mouths shut. The only voice I want to hear is Will's. When we enter, Will, I want you to give me a quick rundown of the room, act like you are speaking into a tape recorder, be clinical; the subject is lying on the mattress five feet in front of me…that sort of thing. If he moves at all, do it again, unless he is talking and moving, then I'll be able to hone in on his voice. Clear?"
Will nodded and she went on, "Another thing, all of you, do not under any circumstances let on that I'm blind. Demonstrating weakness in front of a demon can be deadly. Lastly, don't mention this death that Will has foreseen, it may trigger a desire to kill and once started, demons like to go on killing sprees."
Jim, easily the most relaxed of the group besides Talitha, asked, "What do you plan on doing in there?"
"You brought me here to talk to the man, right? I think I'll start with that. Alba, since the demon knows you, I want you to stay right behind me. Father yapper, I want you to move to my right as we enter and keep the mouth breather with you. Will and Big White Jim stay to my left. Does everyone understand where they're supposed to be?"
Will nodded along with the rest of them and glanced over at Jim's relatively calm visage and felt a slight feeling of relief come over him at the prospect that Jim would be near him.
However, the feeling was short lived.
Talitha began to bark orders again, but Will only really heard the first one, "Will I want you to go first…" after that his mind tuned her out and the moment of relief he had felt, died a quick death, scared into its grave by the simple words.
He looked down the dark corridor and the door seemed larger than it had, and what lay beyond it even greater, taking up his whole world. The fear that had lain behind his breastbone had been growing slowly and was now a boulder of ice, making breathing difficult. His breath was a tiny thing that seemed to go only to the back of his mouth and then was spat back out again. He caught sight of Talitha and her lips were moving and his mind came back in time to hear the tail end of her sentence, "…waiting for?" She seemed perturbed.
Will's mouth came open wider. He didn't know if she was talking to him, and he honestly didn't know if he should say something or not, but luckily Father Alba came to his rescue.
"I think we should say a prayer." His voice was a rough little whisper.
"Uhhg," Talitha rolled her eyes. "I think we shouldn't. God ain't down here, Father.
"Then perhaps it would be best if we invited him. Now everyone…Our Father, who art in heaven…" The priest said the prayer hugging his large bible to his chest and Will fumbled and mumbled along. He was having trouble concentrating, because he couldn't help but thinking that one of the priests would be a better choice to go first. Well maybe not Father John, who stood crookedly; his fear made him look ill, distorting the lines of his body, making him appear as if he had been broken and put back together ineptly.
But he did have a large cross hung about his neck, just as Father Alba did. Will had nothing, not even the gun and he considered asking Jim for it, but then the prayer was over. It had gone by far too fast.
When the prayer ended, Talitha's sarcasm came out, "Great! Thanks Father, we're all safe now." She gave a shake to her blind head and sighed.
Everyone now looked at him expectantly and Will gritted his teeth and made to turn around, but his legs were adroitly reluctant. It took a conscious act to move forward, and robot like, he walked slowly into the stinking gloom.
"Uh…oh Lord, eh…eh…eh!" His throat began an involuntary retching. The stench grew more over powering with each step and Will fought to keep from throwing up. The smell was otherworldly, it was a hellish mixture of feces and rotting flesh. He had to pause a few feet from the door and wipe away the sweat that was going from beads to rivulets on his brow.
"Eh…eh…eh!" The fight to keep his gorge down went on, but with the greatest effort, he finally began to breathe easier. However, the urge remained lurking just under his Adam's apple, looking for any excuse to come back.
He was not alone in his misery, the others wore matching masks of pale green nausea. All but Talitha, who stood near the back of the group and said impatiently, "Come on, Will! Get moving."
The door was feet from
him, just visible in the velvet blackness. His chances were 1 in 5 of dying if he walked through that door. He couldn't move.
"Go on," Sean Shay groaned from just behind him in a voice that grated on Will's sensibilities. He wanted to turn and punch him in his fat face. Sean had nothing to fear and Will's unnamed jealousy riled him, but also catalyzed him into stepping further into the dark stench.
"Sorry…sorry," Will said without meaning it and he dragged his feet forward and reached out with a slow hand and took a grip of the cold doorknob. With a deep breath of the foul air, he screwed up his face and turned it.
It didn't budge.
The door was locked! The thought was a triumph within him and a wave of stupid relief went through his body as if the locked door meant he could turn around now and go home.
"The d-d-door is l-l-locked," he said embarrassed at his stutter.
"Here you go," Sean Shay held out an old brass key and Will looked at him angrily. The fat man looked like a large pudding sweating in the sun. He jiggled around the edges and Will hated him. Sean had nothing to fear, but Will forgot that he didn't know it yet and his anger at the man's useless fear was bitter.
He refused the key and stood aside to let Sean at the door to open it. However, Sean just stood there, his fat wiggling under his arm as his hand shook. Neither moved for seconds, until Sean won the cowardly battle simply by pressing the key into Will's reluctant hand.
Will's hatred for the man spiked, but disappeared altogether forgotten, as he turned to the door. The smell and what lay beyond it consumed him. His own hands shook so much that it took both of them to guide the key into the lock and this time the knob turned easily.
The smell was terrific.
The urge to vomit came back greater than before and he breathed in great gasps to keep from hurling up his breakfast, but someone behind him threw up. It was loud and noisome and the sound of it splattering on the concrete was too much for Will. He doubled over and hurled up a great mess.
Strength left him and he fell to his knees still vomiting, holding up his left arm pathetically, to ward off any attack from the demon. But none came and seconds went by and still he retched and heaved, bringing up nothing but loud unpleasant burps. Finally, he stopped and knelt there sweating and feverish, looking back he saw Talitha alone still stood.
The Trilogy of the Void: The Complete Boxed Set Page 52
