Trinity of Darkness: The Darkness Unbound Collection

by Glenn Porzig

ut descedas ab hoc plasmate Dei,

  quod Dominus noster ad templum

  sanctum suum vocare dignatus est,

  ut fiat templum Dei vivi,

  et Spiritus Sanctus habitet in eo.

  Per eumdem Christum Dominum nostrum,

  qui venturus est judicare vivos et mortuos,

  et saeculum per ignem."

  He continued the Rite until dawn when the demon finally showed signs of weakening. The strain was taking its toll. All of them were exhausted, especially the sixty five year old priest, but they continued on.

  The girl's eyes were still glazed over, her hands claws that dug into the arms of the wooden chair as she struggled against her bonds. But now, behind the blank eyes was a glimmer of humanity. Mary was struggling against the demonic invader that had violated her in the worst way imaginable.

  "Father, we need to hurry, this is a crime scene. How much longer will this take?" asked Drake.

  "Be strong, Alex. The tide has turned, but we need Mary to fight along with us."

  "The bitch is mine! You'll not take her from me!" said the raspy voice from the blood soaked little girl. There was a creaking, then a snap as one of the arms of the wooden chair splintered and her arm broke free.

  "Alex, her arm!" Shouted Father Martin. Drake lunged and grabbed her arm before she could use it to free her other arm.

  "Demon, in the name of Jesus Christ, the one true risen Lord I command you to depart this poor girl and leave her in peace."

  The possessed girl struggled against Drake's grip, thrashing her head violently from side to side.

  "Mary, I know you are in there. Have faith in the Lord and he will guide you. Take his hand and he will deliver you from this abomination," said the priest. "Demon, in the name of Jesus I compel you! By the power of Christ I compel you! Begone unclean thing!"

  Without warning Mary suddenly threw her head back and let loose an unearthly scream that shattered the windows. Then her body went limp.

  Brother Jamie started to move to check on her, but stopped and looked down at the bite on his hand, then at Father Martin. "Is it really over this time?" he asked.

  "She's not resisting—not sure if she's even breathing... " said Drake as he loosened his grip on her arms.

  Father Martin approached the collapsed girl, he once again placed the cross on her forehead, this time with no reaction.

  "It is over. The girl is delivered," he said as he cradled her in his arms. "Thank God."

  ***

  NOW

  Alexander Drake gripped the wheel tightly as he sped down the dark streets in his black 1970 El Camino SS, Sister Marian guiding his every turn. There were innocent lives at stake, and not a moment to spare.

  Marian used the time to explain where they were going. They needed to save the demon's latest target. The one that got away.

  "My brother, before he was murdered, he had planned to tell us... but he didn't live to share the news with me... with our parents." She hung her head, remembering the darkest time in her life.

  "After they were laid to rest I found out. We kept it a secret. I didn't want her to live with the shadow of that hanging over her."

  "Her?"

  "My niece. Scott had a daughter."

  Drake was shocked by the news. He thought there were no secrets between them. But he understood her reasons for keeping this secret... even from him.

  "Her name was Wendy Hall, she was Scott's girlfriend. She said Scott had planned to tell our parents, he was just waiting for the right time. They were going to get married. They never had the chance."

  "Who else knew?" he asked.

  "Just Father Martin, and Sister Mary Francis. Alex, I'm sorry I never told you... I thought the less people that knew, the safer she would be."

  "It was the right decision. What's the girl's name?"

  "Renae, Renae Hall. She just turned 13... Alex, we have to save her."

  "You have my word, I'll do everything I can." Drake said, as he grimly stared down the road. The 450 horsepower engine roared as he firmly pressed down on the gas pedal until it hit the floor. He knew he was rushing headlong into danger, towards the thing that scared him the most. But it would end tonight—one way or another.

  ***

  Detective Drake cautiously entered the dark house with his gun drawn. Suddenly, from out of the shadows, Lee Miller leapt out and smashed violently into Drake's shoulder. The tremendous impact sent the detective's .45 skittering across the floor—disappearing into the darkness.

  Knocked to the ground, Drake looked up in time to see Miller sailing through the air at him again. Miller's face was contorted in an inhuman feral rage.

  Drake barely managed to roll out of the way in time as Miller came crashing down. He struggled to his feet only moments before Miller was up and lunging for him again. This time Drake was prepared and elbowed the madman in his midsection, causing him to double over—the breath knocked out of him.

  Drake took that moment to gather his composure, he wouldn't have to be on the defensive now... he moved forward to bring the fight to Miller. That's when Miller pulled the large silver knife from a sheath on his belt. He looked up at Drake as if to challenge him. Drake hesitated, the knife had shifted the balance back in Miller's favor.

  "I wasn't supposed to kill you, but I'm going to enjoy this..." growled Miller.

  Once again Miller lunged at Drake, this time leading with a thrust of his knife. But Drake fell backwards and caught Miller in the midsection with his feet. He used the man's own momentum against him. Miller went hurtling over Drake and smashed into a coffee table that collapsed under his weight.

  This time when Miller stood up he had blood pouring down one side of his face from a gash across his forehead. He wiped the blood away with his left hand, and then flipped the large knife in his right hand so the point was now facing down. He yelled and lunged once again at the detective who appeared helpless on the ground. Too late Miller noticed his mistake.

  While laying on the ground the detective had managed to pull his five shot Smith & Wesson from an ankle holster. The small snub-nosed .357 revolver kicked hard against his hand, again, and again. The loud shots were deafening in the enclosed space. Three blood red patterns appeared on Lee Miller's torso as the hollow points tore through him and blew large chunks out of his back. He was dead before he hit the floor.

  Drake walked over to the body and reached down to feel the neck for a pulse. He kept his revolver aimed squarely at Miller's head. There was no pulse, no movement. Any mortal would be dead, but he was surprised this had worked on a possessed man.

  "You can come in now, Sister. He won't be bothering anyone again," Drake said as he scanned around the floor looking for his .45. Upon finding it, he holstered both of his guns and watched as Sister Marian made her way in the front door, she was carrying a long package.

  "He's dead?" she asked.

  "Yeah, he was a tough bastard, but I expected it would be much harder than this," Drake replied. He rolled over the body and ripped open the bloody shirt. The three bullet holes had gone clean through him, but what caught both of their attention was a circular symbol branded above his heart.

  "What's that mark on his chest?" she asked.

  Marian leaned closer to get a better look. The brand depicted a snake-like dragon, it appeared to be swallowing its own tail.

  "It's the Ouroboros, an ancient symbol. It was used by a cult that was once active in this area. I haven't seen it in years."

  "Something doesn't seem right. If he was possessed I don't think a bullet, or three, would have been able to stop him. Where's Renae?" asked Marian.

  They both looked up the staircase and Drake began bounding up the stairs two at a time, Marian close behind him. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, they heard whimpers coming from one of the bedrooms.

  They both turned the corner to find Marian's niece, Renae, with her back to them. She was sobbing uncontrollably. In front of her was Wendy, her mother, held upside down to
the wall by large knives.

  Marian feared the worst, but was relieved to notice Wendy's throat hadn't been slit. The only blood was from her pierced hands and feet. She was still breathing. She had probably passed out from shock, or loss of blood.

  "She's alive!" cried out Marian.

  Renae didn't turn around. Her shoulders continued rising and falling rhythmically, but her sobbing slowly shifted to laughter.

  "Renae?" said Marian.

  Renae spun around in place unnaturally. She looked up at Sister Marian with her glassy white eyes, surrounded by dark circles, and she smiled. She was carelessly twisting a knife in her hands.

  "Have you come to play with me, Aunt Mary? Mommy is broken, and I need a new plaything." Renae's voice was a twisted and guttural mimicry of the sweet voice of a young girl.

  "Get out of her you monster!" shouted Marian.

  Detective Drake stood staring at the bloody young girl. His thoughts raced back to seeing the woman now standing beside him in the same situation, so many years ago. He wished he knew what to do now that Father Martin was dead.

  "Remember to play nice. We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt... yet!"

  The demon possessed girl ran at Marian and slashed at her with the large kitchen knife. Marian was able to shift to the side, but not fast enough to make the girl miss completely. The knife tore across Marian's upper arm, causing her to drop the package she had been carrying.

  With superhuman speed Renae was up and hurtling through the air again. She landed on Marian's back and lifted the knife up to stab her.

  Before she could bring the knife down, Drake grabbed Renae by the shoulders. He hauled her off of Marian's back and slammed her to the floor. The knife went clattering across the floor as it was knocked from her grip.

  Sister Marian made the sign of the cross over Renae.

  "Begone from her, unclean thing!"

  "What, you think you can exorcise me? What chance do you have without Father Martin?" sneered the possessed girl.

  Sister Marian held out her hand to Detective Drake. He produced a small flask and placed it in her palm. Marian uncorked the flask and held it up high above the girl.

  "I remember how much you like Holy Water!"

  Marian moved her arm through the air in wide arcs making the sign of the cross, and splashing long streams of Holy Water across the possessed girl.

  Renae screamed and put her hands up in front of her face. Smoke streamed out from between her fingers. She started sobbing again. When she brought her hands down and looked up at Marian she was crying and her eyes looked normal.

  "Why are you hurting me, Aunt Mary?" Renae asked.

  Instinctively, Marian started to advance towards the trembling girl. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder stop her in her tracks.

  "It's a trap," said Drake.

  In an instant Renae's eyes rolled back and were milky white again. She tilted her head to the side unnaturally and flashed a disturbing smile at Detective Drake.

  "You can't blame a girl for trying."

  Once again moving with inhuman speed, Renae dashed across the room and snatched up a nightstand. She hurled it at Drake. He was barely able to get his arms up in time to keep it from smashing into his head. The heavy piece of furniture glanced off of his arms and smashed on the floor.

  While Renae was distracted, Marian came up behind her. She placed a leg behind the young girl and grabbed her shoulder. Marian pushed her, and Renae fell backwards to the floor. In an instant Marian was on top of her. She held Renae's arms outstretched and pinned to the floor. She began to recite the Rite in Latin.

  "Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde,

  in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis..."

  Renae began laughing and then spat in Marian's face.

  "You fool! Father Martin got lucky. He had years of experience. What chance do you have? You haven't even been ordained as an exorcist!"

  "I'm the one you want! Leave the girl and you can have me!" screamed Marian in the possessed girl's face.

  "I don't know... I'm awfully cozy in here—you'd really welcome me back, after all of the dreadful things I've done? So very tempting. A nun, bride of Christ, giving herself to me willingly? How could I refuse?"

  The girl wrenched her wrists free from Marian's grasp and grabbed either side of her head. She pulled her close and kissed her.

  The demon transferred to its new vessel.

  Renae collapsed to the floor, and Marian slowly stood and turned toward Drake.

  "The amulet," she said.

  Drake quickly fished the ancient amulet from his pocket. He knelt down and placed it around Renae's limp neck.

  Marian heard the cries of the demon in her head as it struggled for control of her body.

  What's going on? Why can't I control you? Is this some sort of trick?

  "I've been training more than just my body all of these years. I'm ready for you this time. There's no way in Hell I'll ever let you control me again!"

  Sensing it had been tricked, the demon fled from Marian and attempted to reenter Renae. It could not. The amulet actually worked. Left with no other choice, the demon entered into Detective Drake.

  Marian turned just in time to see Drake take a swing at her. His eyes were all white. She managed to dodge the first blow, but they engaged in a heated battle.

  "Alex, you have to fight him! You didn't invite him in. You can make him leave!"

  "Alex has a darkness in him. I like it. I may stay a while!"

  Marian and Drake continued to struggle. This time the demon was not only in someone she cared about, but someone that was much larger and stronger than her.

  "Alex, embrace your faith. Call on Jesus to help you!"

  Drake struggled internally against the demon as his body struggled against Marian. Finally he was able to regain enough control to speak.

  "Marian... you know what you need to do!"

  "I can't!" she cried.

  "There's no other way!"

  Marian dropped to the ground over Renae's unconscious body. When she rose up she was holding the amulet. The demon tried to move out of the way, but Drake resisted.

  Marian placed the chain around Drake's neck and the demon was trapped inside. Realizing it was trapped, the demon began to struggle even harder for control of Drake's body.

  "Marian, I can't hold out much longer! Do it now!"

  Marian looked down and saw the package she had dropped earlier. It had come partially open. Inside she saw a handle. Hesitantly she reached out and grabbed the handle, pulling the sword free from the package.

  "Now, now, Marian. Let's not be too hasty... you wouldn't want to hurt your friend!"

  Marian held the sword up high. The ancient blade caught the light of the full moon from the window and seemed to glow.

  Ascalon. The sword used by Saint George to slay the Dragon. A Holy Relic kept hidden in the Vatican until needed to smite supernatural creatures. It can only be wielded by someone with true faith.

  She looked at her own bright green eyes reflected in the blade, then into Drake's eyes. Their icy blue was once again fading to a milky white.

  "Now, Marian!" pleaded Drake, as he was losing control.

  "Alex... "

  "You don't have it in you, bitch! I'll kill everyone you've ever cared about! You've always been too weak. You..."

  Marian saw Drake's hands reach up and grab the chain. He was moments away from pulling the amulet free. Before she even knew what was happening, the sword had thrust out and pierced Drake's heart.

  "You go to Hell!" she shouted. Years of pent up anger, fear and frustration came flooding to the surface, finally released.

  Drake looked down to see the sword extending from his chest. A coldness swept through him, a numbness that made him feel detached from his body.

  The room fell into an unearthly silence for one brief moment and then a sound like a crash of thunder shook the house. The windows exploded outwards.

  Marian's hand slippe
d from the handle of the sword.

  Drake fell to the ground. Dead.

  Marian dropped to her knees, sobbing.

  She looked over at Renae, and her mother. Both were still unconscious. But they were alive. And the demon was gone. Hopefully for good this time.

  Marian crawled back to Drake and held him close. He had saved her once again. This time making the ultimate sacrifice. She owed him so much... too much. How could she live with herself?

  Sister Marian prayed over her fallen friend's body. She prayed for his soul. She prayed for strength to carry on after losing so much. And then, it was time to move on. She had to think about the living. Renae and Wendy; the people that survived, the people that still needed her help.

  The color was leaving Drake's face. It had been far too long since his last breath. There was nothing she could do. She reached out, took the handle of the ancient sword, and slid it free from his chest.

  Drake laid there unmoving. Suddenly he bolted upright. He grasped at his chest where the sword had been. The wound was sealing. The color returning to his face.

  Drake was breathing hard as he started rapidly looking around the room. His face showed the shock that he was feeling. Marian almost fainted.

  "Alex!" exclaimed Marian.

  "I'm back... I'm back..."

  ***

  The bright studio lights glared in Vicki Taylor's eyes as she read the teleprompter. Even with her make up, she looked more pale than usual as she solemnly read the report.

  "Reports are still coming in about the death of accused serial killer Lee Miller. Miller was reportedly shot to death by Detective Alexander Drake at the home of Wendy Hall where he was attempting to take the life of his latest victims."

  "Doctors are telling us that Hall's injuries were severe, but not life threatening. Hall is awake, and hopes to be reunited with her young daughter soon. She is expected to make a full recovery."

  "Early reports are that this latest scene included many of the details of the previous crime scenes, and they all appear to be some sort of satanic sacrifices. Rumors are spreading that Miller may have been involved with a cult that was active in the area decades ago, but police refuse to verify this information."