Forrest Wollinsky: Predestined Crossroads (Forrest Wollinsky: Vampire Hunter Book 3)

by Leonard D. Hilley II

  When the cross touched his flesh, he struggled momentarily. He clutched my wrist with both hands, but his fingers trembled too badly for him to maintain a strong enough grip. Before he collapsed into unconsciousness, a deep voice bellowed through the man’s mouth in a language I didn’t recognize.

  Penelope stood beside me. “We need to catch up to them.”

  I glanced around. “Where’s Father?”

  “He went with Madeline.”

  “Did you hear that strange voice?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any idea what he said?”

  “Since it was Krowl, I imagine it wasn’t good,” she replied. “Probably a curse.”

  We ran along the narrow path near the right-hand wall to avoid the smoldering debris. The fire had died down, but the smoke became a lot thicker. My eyes and throat burned. Tears blurred my vision, further obstructing my view through the smoky haze. Once we made our way outside the smoke-filled section of the tunnel, the priests’ lanterns became visible. They were making their way up a spiral set of stairs.

  I wiped the tears from my eyes and slowed my pace, carefully searching through the shadows and behind us, wondering if more cultists might make a last effort to stop us, but none did.

  We hurried up the stairs and stepped out inside the front entrance of the cathedral. Father stood next to Madeline and Varak. We stopped beside them near a large bowl of water. Burning candles flickered everywhere, on the walls, the tables, and railings, lighting the entire sanctuary. The vaulted ceilings seemed to rise forever without end, as the glow of the candles didn’t carry that far.

  The four priests were talking to a man wearing an elegant red robe in the wide center aisle. I assumed this to be the archbishop. The priests appeared to show humbleness as they stood before him. They spoke in hushed tones, occasionally glancing in our direction. After several minutes, the archbishop motioned us toward him.

  He was tall, thin, and slightly stooped. His short gray hair was almost hidden beneath the tall mitre hat he wore. The smoothness of his face indicated he was probably in his early forties. His kind smile and peaceful gaze dispensed comfort, almost making you forget your deepest fears and worries. I had met few men with such charismatic appeal.

  “According to Father Lucas,” the archbishop said, “you have incapacitated eight of the twelve cultists who have attempted to imprison us because of your intended arrival. You’re safe in our sanctuary. They cannot pass through these doors.”

  “But they can,” Penelope said.

  The man shook his head and offered a kind smile. “Child, you mustn’t worry. They cannot. They arrived in a group of twelve. A cult’s strength is strongest when they gather all thirteen of their highest council. They only brought twelve.”

  She shook her head. “No. There are thirteen. Krowl is the thirteenth. He came with them. He was linked inside each of them.”

  The archbishop narrowed his eyes for a moment, thinking, and then he returned to his peaceful, reassuring smile. “This is a holy sanctuary, blessed by God and our priests. The doors have been locked and secured. Even if the demon broke through the doors, he cannot cross the threshold into our cathedral.”

  “Krowl can,” she said.

  The archbishop’s smile partially faded. He didn’t like his authority challenged. His voice became angry. “The demon you speak of cannot defile our holy sanctuary. I believe I know more about demons than you.”

  A brief flash of anger stirred in her eyes. She took a quick deep breath, somehow calming herself. “I’m a Demon-hunter. I’ve killed various types of demons. The majority of them cannot enter into your sanctuary, but Krowl is different. He can, and if you don’t help me, he’s going to burst through that door and kill all of us.”

  “How is he any different than other demons? How can he defile our cathedral and not be instantly destroyed by the holiness of our Lord?”

  “Because of the Papacy,” she replied.

  “What?” the archbishop frowned. “How dare you speak such blasphemy.”

  Father Lucas stepped up and took her by the arm forcefully. “It’s time that you should leave.”

  Penelope yanked free of his hold. “No. I’ve not finished explaining. Krowl is a demon dedicated to destroying everything you hold holy. He has no fear of what you’ve blessed because of the Jesuit priests who slaughtered his worshippers.”

  “Those cultists were infidels, unbelievers, and worthy of the fate they received,” the archbishop replied.

  She shook her head. “To call such judgment puts you into God’s place, but you’re not God. You’re a man.”

  The four priests gasped in horror. They looked around in fear as if the earth would shake and lightning hurled from the ceilings.

  Anger tightened her brow. “Krowl knows this. He sees this. His vile hatred and lust for revenge is far greater than your petty faith. He will take great pleasure in torturing you until you are dead. And unless I get your cooperation, he’s coming to kill all of us, but especially you.”

  Father Lucas frowned at her. “We took care of eight of the cultists in the passageway. That should have made him weaker.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “No, it has made him stronger.”

  “How?”

  “Krowl had possessed the twelve men, so his power and strength were spread out amongst them. Each time his power was cast out of one, the others increased in power. After driving Krowl out of the other eight, instead of us weakening him, we have allowed him to grow stronger inside the other four. He’s outside the door. I sense him and his anger is growing, but if you’ll help me, I can draw him out and kill him.”

  Lucas flicked his gaze to the archbishop. The pale archbishop wiped perspiration from his brow and nodded.

  “What do you need?” Lucas asked.

  “Blessed salt. At least a pound of it,” she replied.

  Lucas motioned to one of the other priests. He hurried down a side aisle and through another door.

  Penelope lowered her quiver to the floor and untied a side pouch I’d never noticed. She removed her silver dagger with odd symbols etched into its blade and handle. “Everyone clear the center aisle. This is where I plan to capture him.”

  The archbishop gave her a skeptical gaze. “Capture him? Exactly what do you mean?”

  She didn’t reply with word or gesture. Instead, she busied herself with various tools inside the pouch.

  “Wait,” I whispered to her.

  “What, Forrest?” She beamed with her cute smile. “I don’t have much time.”

  “You’re not planning to use the symbol the healer gave you, are you?”

  “I’m left with little choice.”

  “It might not work or it might cause something more catastrophic.”

  She shook her head. “No. I studied the one Flora had trapped those plague demons with. I believe the same circle will work. Trust me?”

  With my life, apparently. I looked at the archbishop. “Just do what she says.”

  He held a strange side-glance toward me. His face flushed red, from anger I guessed. It was easy to see he didn’t like someone else telling him what to do. At this point, I really didn’t care. I wanted this demon destroyed before he had a chance to take Varak and commit horrible atrocities against mankind. Penelope was the best hope we had to destroy Krowl, provided she had been given the correct symbol to use.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  We cleared the center aisle and positioned ourselves along the outer edge of the cathedral pews. I took a few minutes to admire the vaulted ceilings, the towering pillars, and the stained glass windows. The artwork was breathtaking. I’d been in a few cathedrals, but of all the ones I had ever entered, this was the most picturesque one. Great detail had been painstakingly patterned into every facet with untiring dedication.

  The priest returned with a large bag of salt and handed it to Penelope. She untied the drawstring and carefully formed a large circle on the floor. The layer of salt was at least
an inch thick and three inches wide. Once she finished the circle, she began making smaller symbols inside the circle. She paused after she completed each one, closed her eyes, and chanted before starting the next one.

  No one spoke while she worked. I was too intrigued, wondering what each symbol meant. Her delicate artwork was quite exquisite and an amazing talent I wasn’t aware that she possessed. After she finished, she walked to the altar, took three lit candles, and positioned them equal distance from one another around the outside of the circle. She studied her layout for several moments. She walked to the edge of the circle and seemed careful not to allow the toes of her shoes to touch the salt. She outstretched her left hand over the salt symbols and pricked her finger with the dagger until several drops of blood dropped, combining with the salt.

  The four priests and the archbishop looked appalled. They frowned with curiosity, whispering amongst themselves.

  Penelope positioned herself between the salt circle and the altar. “Everyone be prepared. He’s coming.”

  The front entrance doors rattled, shook. The intensity increased, shaking with violent urgency. The priests looked at one another in terror as the doors splintered inward and showered into millions of tiny wood fragments. The last four cultists stood side by side at the threshold. These men appeared much larger than all the others. Pure evil hardened their faces. Their attention was on Penelope, but none of them moved.

  “See?” the archbishop said. His voice was haughty. His smile was more prideful than a humble man’s should be. He stood, holding his elegant staff in hand. “They cannot come inside.”

  Penelope ignored him.

  No sooner had he spoken the words than did these four men rush through the door. The archbishop released a high-pitched scream. His staff clattered on the floor.

  The four men ran down the center aisle straight for Penelope. All four spoke in unison with loud bellowing voices that weren’t theirs and echoed off the walls and the vaulted ceiling. It was Krowl speaking through all of them. “Today your blood spills as a sacrifice to me unless you kneel and offer me your homage.”

  Two of the priests fainted between the pews. The other two paled and held their crosses out before them. The archbishop was stunned. He lowered himself into the pew. His lips trembled. When he glanced toward me, I shook my head with disappointment. I wondered why Albert wanted the child to be brought to this particular cathedral. This man was a coward and apparently lacked real faith in his god.

  “Neither are happening, Krowl,” Penelope said sternly.

  The four men stood near the circle but dared not attempt to cross it.

  She raised her hands and spoke phrases in Latin. The hundreds of burning candles in the sanctuary were snuffed in an instant. We stood in complete darkness. A deep guttural growl bellowed near where Penelope stood in the aisle. Bluish-white flickering sparks permeated off a giant demon’s horn-covered back. Full of muscle and thickly scaled skin, Krowl towered ten feet in height. His hideous face had sharp tusks that hung from his odd shaped mouth. Drool dripped from his mouth. He was the most hideous creature I had ever seen.

  Penelope stood less than a foot away from him, unafraid. To me, it seemed he could have struck her with the palm of his hand and probably killed her instantly, but he didn’t budge. He was trapped inside the salt symbol she had drawn, frozen.

  She lifted the dagger high in her right hand. “To the abyss!”

  “Fool!” Krowl shouted, writhing in pain as flames licked up from the floor and blazed around his legs. “Banishing me to the abyss has sealed your fate for far worse curses in your life. You shall know undying misery. You foolish, foolish girl!”

  The flames rose and engulfed him. He released a high-pitched howl, bursting several of the stain-glassed windows. In an instant, he vanished.

  The two conscious Priests rushed with their lanterns toward the center aisle. The four men lay dead on the floor. Apparently when he was pulled from their minds, they were unable to withstand it.

  Penelope lay on the floor. I hurried and knelt beside her. She was panting. Her eyes were closed. Sweat covered her face. What she had done seemed to have drained her strength. She was exhausted. I sat beside her, and she curled herself against me, resting her head against my chest.

  “I told you it would work,” she said with a wide grin.

  “That you did.”

  The two priests began lighting candles.

  Father came to us. “Are you okay?”

  She gave a slight nod.

  After a few minutes, the archbishop found the courage to stand and left the bench where he had sat terrified while she banished the demon.

  “What is this magic you have cast within our sanctuary?” he demanded.

  “What?” I asked, glaring at him.

  “No magic,” she said weakly.

  “The symbol,” he replied. “Your blood offering upon it. These are things witches perform, not saints. Not Christians.”

  Penelope took a deep breath, frowned. She attempted to push herself up but still didn’t have adequate strength. “I am not a witch. I’m a Demon-hunter.”

  The archbishop glanced around the sanctuary. “Where are the others of your coven?”

  “Coven?” she said. “I have no coven.”

  “You must. Where are the other twelve? Otherwise, you’d not possess such power.”

  “You said that about Krowl’s circle, too,” she said softly. “Thirteen for power? Is that what you consider a coven to be?”

  “Yes. It’s what the Papacy has known for centuries. Twelve is the absolute,” he replied. “Thirteen is—”

  “Is it now?” Penelope replied, finding enough strength to sit on her knees. Fury creased her brow. “Then what you claim as reasons for your faith is nothing more than covens, too.”

  “How dare you make such claims. You blasphemer.”

  “It’s in your scriptures,” she replied. “Twelve tribes of Israel plus one God equals thirteen. Jesus and twelve disciples equals thirteen. Is that not the same mathematics you’re using?”

  The archbishop paled. His posture stiffened and his jaw tightened. Perhaps he had never looked at those groups in the same light as she described. He didn’t offer a rebuttal.

  “You seem resentful that I was the one who banished him and not you,” she said. “But it’s not a competition. I don’t cast evil spirits out. I kill or banish demons. When they are banished they are trapped inside a fiery pocket in the center of the earth where they cannot escape. What you and your fellow priests do by excising the evil spirits you incorrectly call demons doesn’t kill them, it sends them out to find a new host to possess. You don’t eliminate the problem. Instead you allow the demon to torment another poor soul.”

  “I watched you add your blood to whatever you had drawn on the floor. How is that not magic? Dark sorcery?” he asked with a less accusatory tone. “And do you not use a spell of some sort?”

  “No different than any prayer you offer for blessings, healing, or a divine touch.”

  “Are you comparing yourself with me?” he asked in a condescending manner.

  “Not at all,” she replied.

  Father looked at me. “Are you certain we should leave Varak with this man? A man who has no appreciation for what Penelope has done to save not only our lives, but his? She risked her life to confront Krowl and banish him, and rather than acknowledging her success, he’s retorted with accusations and condemnation. I’ve never seen such an ungrateful sack of bones in my entire life, and one who considers himself holy at that. He’s a disgrace for what the Archdiocese deserves to have as an Archbishop, and I perceive nothing holy about him.”

  Those words cut deep. The archbishop looked genuinely disconcerted and hurt. His sad eyes regarded each of us, one by one. “My apologies. You’re right. I’ve placed my authority equal to God and unfairly judged your actions.”

  “True,” I replied. “You did. And even worse is your cowardice after the demon appeared. Sure
ly one who believes in the power of his God would not have trembled in the presence of something that should be considered weaker. Yet, you did, and two of your priests fainted. I view you as someone far less worthy of the position granted to you by the ones who placed you in this cathedral.”

  I stood and helped Penelope to her feet. Even after she stood, she clung tightly to my hand. Her legs were still weak and without holding onto me, she’d have collapsed. I helped her to the closest pew where she quickly sat down.

  “I oversee a lot of issues as the archbishop, within the church and with city officials, but understand that it’s not every day a priest or bishop expects to encounter a fiendish demon from the pits of Hell. Even those of us who excise demons must have a pure heart by offering penance and confessing our sins before our Lord. Without doing so, we are not worthy challengers to even rebuke the weakest demon. If we’re not spotless and without blemish, an unleashed demon can rip us to shreds or worse, it can possess us.”

  I frowned. “Are you saying that you weren’t afraid of Krowl?”

  “No. I was terrified.”

  “Because you lack faith?”

  “No. As I said, I had not offered penance or confessed my sins for the day.”

  “And what sins would a man of your status be subjected to?” I asked.

  “Every man is assaulted by various lusts and stray thoughts, even I. Entertaining such thoughts for a long amount of time is considered sin in itself. Gaining excess money, power, or even misleading others are dangerous temptations, especially when the one who benefits from these actions are intentionally committing them. Some would also say even if they aren’t intentional, they are sin just the same.”

  “And such are what held you back this evening?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No. I’m simply expressing there’s a wild array of enticements. Minds wander. Had I known I was about to face a demon face-to-face, I could have been prepared. But, since Krowl emerged through his believers, my mind was racing to determine if I could face him.”