Dark Light Book Three (Dark Light Anthology)

by Larsen, Christian A.

  He felt as though he was finally making a connection, but how did it all tie together? He needed to get back to the hospital and speak to Rayne. She was the only one left, besides Bailey, to try to fit the pieces together.

  He pulled out his cell phone and called the hospital. “I am on my way back there. Keep an officer on watch outside her door. Do not, I repeat, do not let anyone inside. I think her life is in danger.”

  The detective placed the items in his pocket and hurried to his car.

  * * *

  Rayne could hear the officer in the hall speaking to someone on the phone. She knew the detective realized there was more going on than he expected. Was she all that was left? Were her friends really gone? She laid her head back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling. When she pulled on her wrist, the cuff tightened, rendering her useless.

  She wondered if Bailey could get to her with all these people around, and she wondered how she could stop Bailey from coming back for her. She didn’t really want her father dead. What the hell was she thinking? She wasn’t thinking; that was the problem. She was trying to have a little fun at a sleepover and maybe freak her friends out a little, but she never thought she’d awaken some kind of evil.

  The door to her room opened and the detective walked in, closing the door behind him. When he walked over to the bed, he unlocked the cuff and allowed her to sit up. “I’m ready to listen. Tell me what happened from the beginning.” He pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat down.

  Rayne hesitated. “It was supposed to be fun. It was just a slumber party game. We each gave up something about ourselves and offered it to the spirits. Then, we used the Ouija board. I will admit that I loved spooking Molly and Bailey. They were so easy to frighten, ever since we were kids. We always tried to outdo one another with scary pranks.

  “The idea was to make the Ouija board tell us something scary after giving our offerings. The board did talk to us, but I thought it was Lindsay moving the planchette until the board jumped off my lap and into the fire. That was when Bailey vanished. We assumed she ran home because we scared her. It wouldn’t have been the first time. She’s done it before, but we didn’t think anything of it.”

  “Did you kill your father?”

  “No!” She felt herself well up with tears. “I never meant for him to die. He’s a bastard, a drunken bastard, but I never wanted him dead.”

  The detective pulled out the partially charred photograph. “Tell me about this.”

  Rayne let out a gasp. “How’d you get that? I burned that picture, but somehow it was back in my home when Bailey killed my father.”

  He pulled out the handmade bracelet.

  Rayne let the tears fall freely this time. “We all made friendship bracelets when we were in seventh grade. Molly told us we changed after that year. She always wished we’d be as close as we were then.”

  “What did Lindsay offer in the fire?”

  “I believe it was a violin string. She is…was an amazing violinist. She already had Juilliard after her. Why?”

  “I shouldn’t be discussing this with you.”

  “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? My friends are dead and whatever has taken hold of Bailey is obviously coming after me next. I don’t think you should be holding anything back. You need to tell me.”

  “Lindsay was choked with a violin string. Not only that, but her right hand was cut off. Forensics indicates that it was a smooth clean cut, consistent with the metal string. Do you know how forceful someone would have to be, to cut off an appendage like that? What are we dealing with here?”

  “Evil. It said it was evil. It spelled out the words ‘Azazel’ and ‘death’.” She curled up into a ball and cried. “I’m next. It won’t stop until I am dead.”

  “Humor me with all of this. What did Bailey offer?”

  “Umm, I think it was her hair clip. She didn’t have anything else, and she didn’t want to offer anything. She kept telling us it was a bad idea. We should have listened.”

  “I found all of the other offerings, except for hers. I am no occult specialist, by any means, but that has to say something. I wonder if I found the hair clip if it would it stop her.”

  “I suggest you do whatever you need to do. I don’t want to die.”

  The detective rose from his chair and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I won’t let that happen, I promise.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  He gave her a sweet grin. “I never do, kid, and I don’t intend to start now.” He walked to the door and signaled for the officer to stay posted at the doorway. Rayne watched as the detective walked away. She hoped he was a man of his word, but she knew not all promises were kept, especially when playing with fire.

  * * *

  Rick parked his car in Rayne’s driveway. It was nearly sunrise, and the night felt never-ending. There was something in knowing the sun would soon rise that helped settle his nerves. In all his years on the force, he had never come face-to-face with this kind of evil. He thought he had seen every kind of evil out there in the field, but nothing like this: nothing otherworldly.

  He didn’t know how to fix it. He was always good with his gut instinct. It had never failed him in the past; he hoped it wouldn’t fail him now. He got out of the car and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed a number and waited.

  “Hey, Janie. I need you to tell me everything you can about demonic possession.”

  The woman on the other end of the phone laughed. “Well, look at who is coming around to the dark side. What makes you ask, Rick?”

  “It’s all part of a multiple murder investigation I am looking into. I need to know how to stop someone who has been possessed.”

  “That’s some serious stuff, Rick. You aren’t joking, are you?”

  “I’m afraid not. A young girl’s life, actually two girl’s lives depends on this.”

  “Tell me a little more about what is happening. I will admit that demonic possession is something that has become commonplace lately, but not every situation is the same. It depends upon the circumstances.”

  He filled her in on what Rayne told him while Janie listened and flipped through the pages of her books. Rick walked over towards the fire-pit and began digging through the ash.

  “This is a tough one. She’s an innocent. In most cases, when the demon takes possession of the young, the only way to vacate the demon is to destroy the host. If these supposed ‘offerings’ play a role in summoning the demon, you need to find her connection and destroy it.”

  “Here is a question for you. How can I destroy something that has already been destroyed by fire?” he asked as he picked up a deformed piece of metal.

  “You need to give it light. Bless it and it will become your tool of power. You need to know the demon’s name. Call the demon to you while on holy ground. The relic is what feeds the demon its power. It is the demon’s power over that girl. Once the item is blessed, and the demon shows itself, destroy the relic and you will destroy the demon.”

  Rick hung up the phone and ran his fingers over the malformed clip. A growl emanated behind him. He slowly pulled his gun from its sheath and turned around. Before him was Bailey, or what was left of her. Her hair was falling out in clumps, and her skin was a grayish-purple. Her eyes were orbs of black and her fingers were elongated with nails like knives. She stood before him, angered by his presence.

  “Leave!” the demon screamed at him.

  “You can’t have the kids. I won’t allow it.”

  The demon roared in laughter. It leapt forward and swung its talons at Rick. The force sent him flying backward twenty feet. He dropped the hair clip as he tumbled along the hard ground. The demon stood over him, cocking its head to the side as it plunged its nails deep into Rick’s abdomen. It held its bloody nails to its mouth and licked, giving him a sinister grin. Then, the demon vanished.

  Rick grabbed his abdomen and curled onto his side. The pain was intense as he thou
ght about Rayne. He knew that’s where the demon was headed, and he had to save her. Crawling along the ground, he felt for the clip and squeezed his hand shut. The pain was too much. It overpowered his will, and he blacked out.

  * * *

  Rayne felt as if she were bait for a wild animal. She paced around the small hospital room that had become her prison for the day. A storm was brewing outside; inside, she was torn apart. She wondered how Rick was making out, and she wondered if Bailey would be coming for her. She walked over to the window and slid down the wall to the floor. Pulling her knees to her chest, she tucked her head to her knees. She remained in that position until she dozed off.

  The sound of buzzing woke her from her sleep. She looked around the room, and it was filled with bees swarming in the window and the doorway. When she yelled out for help, no one responded to her. She crawled across the floor until she reached the bed, pulling the blanket off, wrapping it around her body to protect herself. They covered the blanket, and she let out a gut-wrenching scream, but found that no sound came out. She closed her eyes and flailed her arms, trying to get rid of the bees.

  When she opened her eyes again, Bailey stood in front of her. Rayne lost her balance and fell backward on the floor, banging her head and an instant pain shot through her. When she shook it off and opened her eyes, it was no longer Bailey. Her father stood in front of her.

  He was covered in blood, sneering at her. “Look at what you did to me, bitch. I should have killed you a long time ago.” He came at her.

  She dodged out of the way and crawled across the floor. She banged on the door, screaming for help, but no one came. Her father grabbed her by the arm and tossed her backward into the wall. The impact jarred her. She knew this really wasn’t her father, but it was her own living hell. “Please stop!”

  “Oh, please stop? Please stop?” His voice began to change. “You didn’t stop, did you, Rayne? You go sticking your nose into things that you have no business sticking it in.” He grabbed her by the back of her head and dragged her away from the wall. “I know how to shut up little bitches like you.” His fist met the side of her cheek and she felt the skin tear open. She collapsed to the ground again and crawled on her belly, attempting to get to the door. He grabbed her foot and dragged her backward. She turned and kicked as hard as she could, but it only made the monster laugh in amusement.

  “Please? God, leave me alone. I’m sorry, Bailey. I’m so sorry I did this to you. You are one of my best friends. Please.” She wept.

  “Ha!” Her father laughed. “Where is your God, Rayne? Not here, but I am. It’s time to show you what real pain and suffering is.”

  “She turned to the door and screamed, pounding on the glass until it cracked.

  * * *

  Rick came to and got to his feet, vomiting from the pain in his abdomen. Looking down, he realized he had dropped the hair clip. He spotted it tucked within the tall weeds, picked it up and tucked it into his pocket. Limping on his way to the car, he pulled out his phone and dialed. “O’Reilly, tell me the girl is all right?”

  “Yeah, I am sitting right outside the room. There is nothing. I think she’s sleeping.”

  “Have you actually checked on her?”

  “Well, no. You said to keep everyone out.”

  “Damn it, O’Reilly! Go check on the girl. Now.”

  Officer O’Reilly got up and attempted to open the door, but to no avail. There was something obstructing it. “Sir, the door seems to be blocked.”

  “You need to get that door open. Now! I’ll be there soon.” Rick winced when he got behind the wheel of his car. The pain was intense, but he remembered what Janie had told him. He needed to get to holy ground before it was too late.

  He pulled into the empty lot at Saint Joseph’s Church. His abdomen was still bleeding, but he had a job to finish. If all went well, he’d be saving the lives of two teenagers. He limped his way up to the door and pulled it open. When he stood before the holy water urn, he reached into his pocket. He felt his eyesight begin to haze over and knew he was short on time. He pulled out the hair clip and immersed it into the urn.

  Immediately, the relic began to fizz as it bubbled over onto the floor. Rick watched in amazement as it began to take its original shape. He reached into the holy water and pulled out the hair clip. He ran his fingers along its surface and shook his head. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He stepped farther into the church and stared up at Jesus hanging on the cross. He motioned the sign of the cross and knelt down to his knees in prayer.

  * * *

  Rayne could see the officer on the other side of the door, talking on his cell phone. He couldn’t hear her cry out.

  Her father grabbed her by her hair and threw her with such force that she broke the small wooden table sitting beside the hospital bed. She crumpled to the floor, and pain exploded on her right side as she noticed that her leg was in an unnatural position. Bone protruded through her skin. She pulled herself across the floor and pushed herself into the corner.

  The door to the room opened, and Officer O’Reilly stepped in. He looked at the mess and pulled out his gun. “What the hell is going on in here?”

  Bailey appeared in front of him with a sinister grin on her face. She reached her arm forward, and before the officer could react, she plunged her hand deep within his chest, laughing as the look of pain and confusion crossed his face. She pulled out his still-beating heart and held it to her mouth, running her tongue over it.

  The officer watched in horror. His last image was of the creature eating his heart. He collapsed to the floor, and Rayne screamed in terror.

  Bailey’s body began to spasm as she dropped to the floor in convulsions. Rayne watched in complete horror as deep unrecognizable growls came out of her friend. Her body lifted a few feet from the floor and hovered as it twitched in a pain of its own. Snarls and moans emanated from Bailey’s still-writhing body. Suddenly, Bailey collapsed on the floor.

  Rayne froze in place, too terrified to move. She watched and waited to see if Bailey would move, but she didn’t. Bailey lay still on the cold, hard floor.

  * * *

  The church doors burst open, and a massive gust of air exploded into the room. Rick turned to look as the pews began to flip over on their side.

  “Azazel,” Rick called out, “I command you to return to where you came from.”

  A deep howl echoed within the church. The stained glass windows burst inward as the colored-glass shards rained down on Rick.

  “You cannot have the girls. They are innocent.” He remembered his conversation with Janie. She told him that the demon needed a host body. Once he freed the ties from the relic, the demon would be forced to leave its host body and search for a new one. If the human host were to die while being possessed by the demon, the demon would be sent back to its own hell. Rick held the hair clip tightly in his hand.

  “Take me! I command you to take me, Azazel. Leave the girls and take me. I won’t fight you.”

  Air suddenly burst around him and knocked him to the ground. He felt the moment the demon entered his body and knew he had only seconds to act before he’d no longer be in control. He forced himself up and looked at Christ on the crucifix. He knew what he needed to do. He struggled making his way to the crucifix, throwing his entire body into it. Pain exploded inside him. He fell to the ground and began to writhe as the demon took control. The last image he saw was the crucifix tipping over, heading toward him.

  He grinned. “Here is my salvation. I am free.” The crucifix pierced his body, and he fell limp. He had freed Bailey; he saved the girls.

  * * *

  Rayne watched Bailey’s body begin to move. She tried to pull her body out of the way when she heard a familiar cry. When she pulled herself over to Bailey’s mangled body, she caught a glimpse of her eyes; they were normal.

  “Bailey!” she cried out. “It’s really you.”

  Bailey tried to talk, but was badly hurt. Rayne reached out her hand and grab
bed hold of Bailey’s, squeezing it. “Is it over Bailey? Is it finally over?”

  Suddenly, the doorway was flooded with light and Rayne had to shield her eyes to block it. She spotted Rick standing in the doorway, smiling at them. He held up his hand and waved as he disappeared.

  Rayne smiled through her tears. “We’re going to be all right, Bailey. It is really over. We’re going to be fine now.” She grabbed hold of her best friend and wrapped her arms around her.

  They lay there, comforting one another as they waited for help to arrive.

  Tossed and Found

  By K.E. Robiscoe

  It’s a perfect day to visit Momma. Trouble is, it’s also a perfect day to be outside. Outside enjoying herself, she means, not sifting through a bunch of dead memories with Momma, but if Luanne walks over instead of driving, she could get the best of both worlds. It’s only a couple of miles up the road—and through an intersection, but her route would zigzag across a T-bone intersection—and you never know. She might find some flowers on the wayside that would be nice enough to stand-in for a store-bought bouquet. Even when she doesn’t feel like dropping by, she never goes to Momma’s empty-handed, not even once, because Luanne is a good girl: a thoughtful girl, with old-school manners who just happens to be a little cash poor lately.

  You can’t beat an Indian summer. Pulling the screen door shut behind her, she cuts across her patchy front lawn, also known as half-withered grass and half-dirt, but what could she do? The city’s been on water restriction for months now. Rolling a Chapstick across her nose and under her eyes, she looks up for scenic relief, breathing the scent of eucalyptus deep into her lungs. The canopy of trees studding her quiet block, and half of the next, shuts out most of unseasonably strong September sun, but the rest of the way is less shaded. Lord knows, you can’t use too much sunscreen, anymore, what with global warming and all, and—her thoughts screech to a halt. Is it still okay to call a hot September an Indian summer? She tries but can’t remember the correct term for Native Americans, and after a minute, finds herself thinking about the horror flick she watched last night, instead. Now, that was a good movie: a proper, cowboys, Indians and axe-murderers reel. What was it called again? The Grim West? The Western Reaper?