by Lucian Bane
She nodded and moaned in his mouth. “Yes.”
“And while I think you’re so hot in my jeans and shirt, you better get dressed in your clothes. I packed your stuff too, check the green bag. I’ll go make small talk while you do so he doesn’t suspect anything.” Again he kissed her with a hunger, not having to really pretend with her.
Solomon hurried out to his uncle and made loud small talk while in between giving him details. “There’s a man named Jimmy Ray Smith. Before we head out of town, I need to see him.”
“You want to leave with her?”
“She can’t stay,” he assured.
“So you…”
“Love her, yes,” Solomon gushed to his uncle who appeared tickled. He was sure that would change when he told him the rest of the story. “Have no idea about the fishing,” Solomon said loudly, “haven’t gotten around to that.” He put his back to the car and pointed around at the forest for show, then whispered, “I need you to ask us if we know anybody you can question about the ritual cow slayings. Great cover by the way.”
“And my wife thinks all that CSI is a waste of time,” he mumbled.
Solomon nodded. “I’ll say Jimmy Ray Smith and you’ll ask us to accompany you.”
“And then we get the hell out of dodge?”
“Yes. Then we get the hell out of dodge.”
“She gonna go for that?”
“Hell no she won’t,” Solomon mumbled, glancing right with his peripheral to see if she’d come out yet. “So we need to figure out how to subdue her if we need to.”
“You plan on kidnapping her?”
“No, I plan on saving her life. She’s supposed to be sacrificed too.”
“Holy shit,” his uncle mumbled. “Bunch of lunatics, I swear this entire town has always been a little kooky in the head if you asked me.” His uncle squinted an eye at him. “Why I never moved back here. Your daddy might be a sonofabitch but at least he had the sense to not to return.”
“And now I feel real smart, thanks,” Solomon said, glancing back.
“Did she say why they’re doing this, son?”
“I didn’t get all the details but the gist is, the dude she calls Master had a dream from God when the town fell to a Malaria epidemic. Said they were being punished for the abortions a lot of the women had confessed about. And apparently this amounted to blaspheming the Holy Spirit where the blood of Christ didn’t cut it, so they needed another sacrifice to break the curse.”
His uncle’s face crimped in mild disgust. “What curse?”
Solomon’s eyes widened in cluelessness. “The sickness was going to come back and claim lives? I’m not sure, I just know their unborn have been paying ever since, something about having to live the curse of their sins until the sacrifice came, that’s as far as I got. How that happens exactly, I’m not sure, I didn’t get that far. Here she comes,” Solomon whispered, turning and hurrying to her. “You ready?”
She nodded, eying his uncle with the same suspicion, maybe more now.
“I’ll get the bags.”
“I’ll get my possum.”
Chapter Twenty Three
Solomon waited for his uncle to pop the question while distracting Chaos with nibbles on her ear, holding her close to him.
“Say,” his uncle called from the front. “Either of you have any idea who I might talk to about this atrocity? I’m going home empty handed at this point.”
Solomon looked at her with raised browse and she shook her head. He lowered his mouth to her ear. “What about Jimmy! Jimmy Ray, he’s pretty crazy.”
She shook her head like she didn’t want to suggest it.
“Maybe if he goes there, he’ll not look any further?” he whispered. “You know what I mean?”
She seemed to be thinking about it and Solomon took that moment to jump.
“There is this one guy,” Solomon said. “Somebody that actually fits the kind of crazy you described.”
“Is that a fact? Well thank heavens, I might actually have a paycheck at the end of the month,” his uncle muttered before glancing in the rearview mirror. “Where might I find this fella?”
“You know where the hospital is in town?”
“The asylum?”
“Yep,” Solomon said. “There’s a road behind it that leads to another road that takes you to some woods behind the cemetery.”
“Oh no,” he shook his head. “I’m gonna be honest with you here,” his uncle said. “I was actually lost when I showed up at your place. You think there’s any way you can accompany me to this place? Not to mention having witnesses sounds like a wise plan.”
Chaos shook her head no and Solomon dropped his mouth to her ear. “Come on, we’ll show him where it is and we’ve done our good deed. Besides, God looks with favor on those who show kindness and courtesy. I think that’s important at this time?”
She chewed on her lip and looked out the window.
“Yeah, sure, we’ll help you,” Solomon said, again not giving her a chance to say no. He titled her face up and kissed her tenderly. “Who’s my angel?” he whispered on her lips.
She grabbed his hand and held it tightly, making Solomon wonder what exactly was going through her mind, what nightmares she was anticipating. There was still so much that needed uncovering, and he prayed Jimmy had some answers that might shed some light on this nightmare.
As they came to the Asylum, Solomon pointed out the road he needed to take then whispered to Chaos, “Which way is the farm?”
She pointed to the right side of the creepy monster building. Solomon looked for a road that would lead to it. “I don’t see it.”
“You can’t see it from here,” she said. “You have to take another road to it.”
“Ah, got you. Turn here,” Solomon directed to his uncle.
His uncle drove until they came to the gate with the No Trespassing sign.
“I can wait at the gate,” Chaos said, sounding nervous.
“What? No, you’re not leaving my side.” He made sure to temper the order with a kiss, turning her face with a firm hand when he did. He wasn’t sure how much power his Husband card held with her, but he’d play it as long as he could. “Stay here,” he said, opening his door and heading for the gate. Looking around for any indication they were being watched or followed, he unlatched the rusted metal covered in vines and swung it wide. His uncle drove through and Solomon walked the gate shut and latched it. He stared at the asylum then. In the quickly setting sun, its shadow was growing quickly, reminding him of a monster slowly rising from sleep, eager to resume its mysterious hold on the town.
Perfect timing to be at this creepy place. Something told him that Chaos wanting to not enter the woods had a lot to do with the lies she’d been fed by Master. He needed more answers. A lot more.
****
Chaos didn’t want to go into the woods. Not these woods. Master forbade them to ever come here because of the insane sprits that roamed there, seeking vessels to take over.
But she didn’t want to upset Solomon either. He was such a good husband even if he was ignorant on so many things. She wanted to be a good wife, at least while she could, while there was time. He didn’t know of the dangers, how would he?
But Solomon had a very strong spirit, as did she. They should be safe.
Chaos kept her smiles inside while they drove. She was still so very happy despite the situation. She never dreamed she’d have a husband like Solomon. A real husband. It was a miracle from God the way he wanted to do whatever made her happy and another miracle that he knew all of this was divine—them meeting and the special sins that needed a special sacrifice.
And the way he loved her just stole her breath. She couldn’t have asked for a better gift than to be sacrificed with him. It was perfect, really. She couldn’t begin to see any other way she’d want it.
Not having to be sacrificed at all would be nice but that would mean the entire town would go on suffering. She’d never, ever do that.
“The road ends up ahead,” Solomon said.
“What about this road?” the man asked.
Solomon looked to the right. “Well hell,” he muttered. “I didn’t see it the last time I came.”
Chaos lifted his hand and kissed it. She loved the sound of his voice. He lowered his mouth to hers and blessed her with one of his breathtaking kisses. All his kisses did that to her. She just wanted to hurry and finish here and do as he’d wanted. One last time. She had plans to blow his mind again. It’s just too bad her opening had not been prepared, she could have enjoyed that with him before. Maybe she still might be able to, she wasn’t sure what the preparation for the final ceremony would involve yet. Hopefully nothing too drastic.
She was already praying for strength for it. She wasn’t sure how she’d take seeing Solomon in any kind of pain. She knew that would be the hardest test she’d ever endure.
“There’s a house, looks like,” the man said. She didn’t believe he was FBI. But why would he lie about it?
“Well I’ll be damned,” Solomon said, looking around. Chaos eyed the shack up ahead, sure it couldn’t belong to the crazy man. She’d been told he lived among the trees. She’d thought it literally all this time and realized they could have just meant in a house in the trees.
She noticed smoke came from the little chimney on top of the tin roof. It gave the picture of a scary fairytale. Maybe it wasn’t the crazy man’s house but another that lived in the woods.
The door suddenly opened and Chaos gripped Solomon’s hand as a dark man with white frizzy hair stood there, staring at them. He held a pipe in his mouth with one hand, puffing till white smoke swirled about his head. He stepped onto the porch and out of the cloud, eying them still.
“He’s fine,” Solomon muttered to her, opening his door, pulling her with him. “He may be crazy but he’s not that crazy.”
She wasn’t so sure. But she’d trust him, her husband. He was very wise and good. A lot more like Master than he realized. Holding tight to his hand, she followed him out of the car and walked close to him as he and the FBI man approached the crazy’s porch.
“Was wonderin when you’d show up,” the dark man said, eying Solomon while puffing on that pipe, making the smoke swirl again.
Chaos stiffened inside at his words, wondering what they might mean.
“I’d like you to meet Chaos,” he said, “my wife.”
Chaos couldn’t even enjoy the endearment with the man’s snake green eyes aimed at her. She lowered her gaze, not taking any chances in case he used the eyes to bewitch his victims.
“Chaos.”
She gasped to herself at the way he said her name. Like he knew her. Or had heard of her. Then she remembered he did. Solomon had come inquiring, that’s why he knew her, that’s all.
“I suppose you know my name,” he said. “The crazy man in the woods.” He gave a loud laugh that sounded rusty and rarely used.
“Mr. Stonewall,” the FBI man said, putting his hand out to Mr. Crazy for a shake.
Chaos was confused to see him actually accept the man’s hand and even shake it. But then she remembered the crazy man was also crafty.
“You from outta town, I see,” Mr. Crazy said.
“Yes sir. Yes sir, I sure am.”
“Only outta towners dare to come up in here,” he said.
Chaos lowered her gaze when those green eyes slid to her. His smile with only few teeth scared her. But at the same time, she was drawn to look at him. Might be her last chance to behold what had only been a fictional character in her mind before now. She’d imagined him black as night with more teeth. Sharp ones. But even in the setting sun she saw he was only a dark caramel and missing quite a few chompers.
“Pardon my manners,” Mr. Crazy said with excitement. “Come in and have a cup’a coffee.” He turned and headed back to his porch and Chaos was oddly compelled to follow. There was so much curiosity about the man she needed to satisfy now. Like what kind of house did he keep?
The first thing she noticed odd when she stepped onto the porch of the little shack was the smell. The delicious smell. Did somebody live with him and help him prepare food? It must be the case because at entering the one room dwelling she found it well kept and tidy. Like a sane person would keep it. It only had a small table and one chair, a fat black stove with a pipe going into the roof and a matching black pot smoking on top of the stove’s round belly. There was a piece of wood on the wall that served as a counter. All it had was a tin pail and a few dishes, those pretty blue kinds made of tin. Her eyes landed on a lumpy spot in a corner on the floor where a quilt patched to kingdom come lay just so. Everything was poor but neat. Even the two little windows with thin yellow curtains nailed on it.
She startled a little at finding his gaze locked on her when her perusal made it back to him.
“Poor poor chile,” he cooed, angling his head at her till she felt odd. “I know’d you been institutionalized wit a look like dat,” he said, his eyes wide while fixed on her. He turned to Solomon now. “You can always tell the ones, they always be lookin fuh the crazy signs. She probly thinkin where the person who keep house fuh him and cook.”
Chaos’s breath froze and he laughed, pointing at her.
“See? Das zactly what she was thinkin! Look at her face. Guilty!” he said loud enough to make her jump.
Solomon laughed and hugged her closer. “What on Earth are you cooking in here, smells divine.”
“You like dat?” he said, turning his awful green eyes to Solomon now. She was too relieved to be worried for him. “Das some wild rabbit stew you smellin. Have a seat gennel-men. I think you’re here for sumpin I might be able to hep you with.”
Chaos’s stomach clenched. Did the demons tell him what they were coming for? She looked at Solomon who turned a clueless expression to her but then she noticed it. Something new was there in his blue eyes, something more.
She held tightly to his hand, suddenly scared at the unknown thing. She didn’t like not knowing things with him.
Chaos’s attention was suddenly drawn to the far wall near the bed area. To a picture, in particular. Several. All photos it seemed. How odd. What would he be doing with such things?
Unable to resist, she released Solomon’s hand and made her way slowly to the wall, drawn to a particular one. It was a beautiful young woman that seemed familiar to her.
“Who is that?” she asked, forgetting her fears in the sudden burning curiosity. She knew this person, she was sure.
“That right there is Miss Angelina,” he said with pride. “One of West Virginia’s finest. She was the star of Luna Hills, yes indeed she was. My grandfather used to tell me stories about her before he passed. He was one of the grave keeper’s there.” He gave a laugh that said he knew everything he’d just said astonished her. But it wasn’t just what he said, it was how he’d said it. For a moment, had she not been looking at him or not known the stories about him, she’d have thought he was an educated man. She’d never imagined the crazy man had any family, and if he did, she didn’t think he’d know about them. But it was his connection to the asylum that brought the questions flooding in. She’d not been told he had blood ties to the place that had been part of her home.
Maybe it was a lie. An attempt to use his demon powers on her. Either way, her tongue was full of questions as she regarded the woman in the photo that she felt like she knew. But how could she if she were that old? She peered closer at the photo. She wore a floral print dress. She had on makeup she could tell, even in the black and white photo. Her hair was perfectly done, like a professional hair person had made it up for her. She seemed… important. The necklace hanging on her chest caught her breath. It too was familiar. It looked like… Grandmother’s.
“How about you come have some of crazy Jimmy’s coffee,” he laughed. “Then I’ll tell you all about what you be wantin to ask.”
Chaos barely managed to not show what his knowledge about her thoughts did.
Maybe he was guessing. And if he was, he’d have to keep guessing. And if he really did know her thoughts… then there wasn’t anything to be done more about that.
She hoped he didn’t try to put any of his crazy in her coffee. She’d have to be on guard for it. She knew how to do spiritual warfare, she’d learned that early on. Master taught her when she had to battle the bad fears, the ones that always made her question everything and doubt.
Before she could turn, Solomon stood next to her, staring at the photos too. She looked up at his handsome face, following his gaze to the wall. She expected him to be looking at the woman she had but instead he was studying the others. Chaos realized that those weren’t photos at all, but hand drawn pictures in neat frames. They seemed to be original drawings.
Her heart skipped a beat when Solomon’s hand slowly took hers, his fingers lacing tight. She stood there with him, staring back at the wall, feeling very strange. Very… very strange.
Chapter Twenty Four
Solomon wished he understood what it was about the drawings on the wall that called to him. He didn’t recognize them in any way. And yet, something inside him said look at them. Look at them. See it. See what they’re saying.
He angled his head at the various drawings. They were very abstract and borderline disturbing. As he stared, he began to make out a theme among them. Something… that involved pain and agony of some sort. The soul of the artist at the time it was drawn? Maybe.
He searched for a name and found only initials. S.G.T.
“Who drew this?” he asked, turning around to find Jimmy staring at both of them in rapt amazement.
“That there was drawn by one of the patients at Luna. He was quite the artist, he was,” Jimmy said quietly, his tone weighing with more mysterious clues.
“Who was he?” Solomon had to know more.
Jimmy only laughed this time. “Now that there is fuh me to know… and you to fine out.”
God, why was this man bent on keeping everything secret?
“Some things in this town must be properly unearthed by the right persons, son,” he went on. “Some things ain’t fuh me to touch. And that there be one of ‘em.”
