Devil's Taunt and Other Stories

by Percival Constantine

  Karen crossed her arms, her eyes holding a healthy dose of skepticism. “Why do you care about Sam? You know him or somethin’?”

  “No, I don’t know him. But I’ve heard there have been a few mysterious disappearances out in these woods. Mysterious is kind of my stock in trade.”

  “Who are you?”

  “My name’s Luther Cross. Let me give you a card.” He slowly moved his arm toward his jacket so as not to startle her with any sudden movements. What he procured was a silver business card case with his initials engraved on the surface. Luther opened it and removed a single card, holding it out between his extended index and middle finger.

  Karen moved closer and took the card, reading it. “Paranormal investigator? You like a Ghostbuster or something?”

  Luther gave a chortle. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “Well, I guess having another set of eyes couldn’t hurt.” She pocketed his card and the two moved deeper into the forest.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “Sam and some of his buddies were supposed to go on a hunt. Spend a weekend in the woods, drink beer, shoot things—that whole macho bullshit thing.”

  “So what happened?”

  “His friends cancelled. One of ‘em’s married and his wife nixed his involvement. The other one got called in to cover a shift at work.”

  “But Sam wasn’t about to throw away his weekend.”

  Karen nodded. “Stubborn bastard insisted on going alone. I convinced him to just make it a day trip but then he didn’t come home on Saturday night. At first, I thought he was just being stubborn, so I didn’t call him until Sunday. Then Sunday turned into Monday…” Her voice trailed off.

  “And still no word.”

  She shut her eyes for a moment, struggling with what to say next. “I went to the sheriff, he told me not to worry about it. Went back again, still said it’s nothing. But startin’ to get the feeling he’s full of shit.”

  “You’re not wrong,” said Luther.

  Karen looked up at him. “How do you know?”

  Luther kept walking forward. “Call it a hunch.”

  “Same hunch that says there’s somethin’ weird in these woods?”

  “Might say that.”

  * * *

  They continued their trek through the forest for well over an hour. Luther was beginning to think this was just a simple missing persons case. There was, of course, the matter of the other disappearances that the sheriff told him about. But that could be anything—maybe there was some psycho out in these woods who was hunting people for his own twisted amusement.

  One of the things Luther had learned in his lifetime was that a person didn’t have to be a demon or a ghost or messed up with the occult to be an evil son of a bitch. Many of the rich people he conned out of money had graveyards worth of skeletons in their closets and then some.

  Karen had mostly remained quiet during their search. She put on a brave face, but Luther could tell how scared she was. Didn’t need minor psychic abilities to pick up on that, anyone who knew how to read people would be able to see it.

  She looked at the ground as she walked, trying to keep an eye out for some sign of Sam—a dropped wallet, a phone, anything. When Karen looked off into the distance, she finally got her wish and her eyes grew wide and a smile appeared on her face. “Over there!”

  Her exuberance was unmistakable. Not to mention dangerous—whatever she saw, it could easily be a trap. Luther didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary, but he’d been wrong before. “Karen, wait up!” He moved after her, reaching inside his jacket and wrapping his fingers around the butt of the revolver, but not drawing it yet.

  When Luther caught up to Karen, she had come to a stop at a campground. It was completely empty, save for the red Ford F-150 parked in the clearing. Karen went to the driver’s side door and peered inside the window. Luther stayed close behind her, still resting his hand on the gun.

  “Sam’s truck?”

  Karen nodded.

  Luther walked over to the remains of the campfire and knelt down, touching the ashes and burnt wood that remained. “No one’s used this area in weeks.”

  “How’s that possible?” asked Karen. “Sam’s only been gone about a week.”

  Luther stood and walked over to the Ford. “My guess is someone left the truck here.”

  “Someone? You mean someone who wasn’t Sam?”

  He tugged at the truck’s handle. The door was unlocked. “That’s right.” Luther climbed into the driver’s seat and removed his gloves. He gripped the steering wheel with his bare hands and closed his eyes. Luther saw brief flashes of a young man—must be Sam—trying in vain to turn over the car engine. He saw another flash of an older guy coming to help. Then another one of that same older guy driving the truck. More than that, there was a malicious vibe he got from these visions, particularly that man.

  Luther’s hands shook and he gripped the wheel tighter. Karen backed away from the door, watching with fear. His entire body spasmed, as if he were having a seizure. “Luther, what’s going on?”

  He didn’t answer, but every muscle in his body tightened. Luther took a rapid and deep breath and opened his eyes. He looked at his hands and carefully and slowly stretched out each finger before pulling his hands off the wheel, almost like they were stuck there and needed to be peeled off gently.

  While descending from the truck, Luther pulled his gloves back on. His cool demeanor was back, and if anyone had walked by right then, they wouldn’t have known that just a few moments ago, his body seemed to have a fit. But Karen definitely remembered and she eyed him with caution, keeping a few paces distance between them.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “Just something I can do.” Luther walked to the edge of the campground, looking down the dirt path that led up to them. “I think I know how to find who took your brother.”

  “How?”

  “Just have to follow the path.”

  Karen stepped to the road and looked down. There wasn’t much in the way of tracks left, they’d faded in the days since the truck was brought to this spot. “What path?”

  Luther hesitated to tell her. “Just need you to trust me on this.”

  Karen had to suppress a chortle of shock. “Trust you? You just went all Exorcist when you were sittin’ in that truck! And now you’re asking me to just ignore that, follow you like there’s nothing wrong?”

  Luther sighed. “You saw my card. I have certain…talents at my disposal. Talents I can’t really explain. But they help me in my work and they can help me find the man who took your brother. Who’s probably the same man responsible for those other disappearances.”

  “So what, you think this is some sort of paranormal thing? That’s what you look into, right?”

  Luther grinned as he looked at her. “You don’t believe me.”

  “I didn’t say that—”

  “Didn’t have to, it’s written all over your face. And frankly, I don’t give a damn. You wanna find out what happened to your brother, you follow my lead. Or else you can go back to bugging the sheriff, who might get around to it in the next century. If you’re lucky.”

  Karen took a deep breath to calm herself and exhaled. She followed that by closing her eyes and giving a tiny nod. “Okay. You’re pretty much the only option I got, so I’m with you.”

  “Good.” Luther gestured to the path. “Follow me.”

  * * *

  Whoever the middle aged man was, Luther sensed malevolent, mystic energy surrounding him, and energy that strong left a trail. He wasn’t certain it was a good idea for Karen to tag along, but he knew trying to dissuade her from coming along would only encourage her to wander off on her own.

  “I’m guessin’ you’re not from Wolcott,” she said.

  “Chicago.”

  “That where you learned all this…stuff?”

  Luther paused and looked back at her. He raised a hand to his sunglasses and sli
d them down his nose, revealing his blood red eyes to her. “Guess you could say it’s in my blood.” He pushed the glasses up and turned back to the path. “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

  Karen hadn’t realized her jaw had dropped when he showed his eyes. She shut her mouth but stood still while he continued on ahead. After a moment, Luther looked over his shoulder. “You coming or what?”

  Karen gathered her bearings and continued forward. They reached the edge of the woods and found a wide plot of farmland. Chain link fences wrapped around the boundaries, reaching up about six feet or so and topped with barbed wire. Didn’t seem to be any livestock on the other side of the fence, though. Just land for planting crops.

  A small house was at the other end of the field with a barn not far from it. Luther examined the fence as he spoke. “You know who lives here?”

  Karen shook her head. “Sam and I just moved here about a month or two back from Springfield when our grandma got sick.”

  Luther fixed his gaze on the field. There was definitely a malevolent force at work past this fence, and it was localized in two areas—the barn and the house. The fence wrapped along the path, with a dirt road separating it and leading up to the house. If they wanted to use the entrance to the field, they’d have to get closer to the house, go in through the front, and Luther wasn’t prepared to do that. So he gripped the links of the fence and pulled.

  “What are you doing?” asked Karen. “You can’t do that!”

  “You want to find your brother or what?”

  “Yeah, but—” Karen sighed. “Do you really think you can break apart that fence with your bare hands? You’re only gonna—”

  The links snapped one by one and Luther pulled harder, tearing an opening into the fence just large enough for him to fit through. He crouched and moved through the hole he’d created. Luther pulled the fence back and Karen was able to get through much easier.

  “You must have a serious workout,” she said.

  Luther huffed. “Not quite.”

  “Your strength, that have something to do with those eyes of yours, too?”

  Luther didn’t answer. “Let’s check out that barn.”

  They stuck close to the fence and worked their way around the perimeter, moving closer to the barn. Luther kept a cautious eye on the house, and was ready to act if the owner came out. But the barn seemed like the most likely place they’d find Sam and that made it his priority.

  Upon reaching the barn, Luther checked the front entrance. The doors were locked with a large padlock. Luther could sense an evil force at work behind those doors. Or at the very least, the product of such a force. He drew the revolver from his holster, much to Karen’s surprise when she saw it.

  Luther pointed to the side of the barn. “Stay over there, out of sight. I’m going to see if there’s another way inside this thing.”

  Karen nodded furtively and waited for Luther to go around the barn. Once he disappeared from sight, she went back to the corner, moving into the shade cast by the structure. She pushed her back up against the structure and sighed, closing her eyes. Even with Luther’s help, she was beginning to lose hope that they’d find Sam alive. She wondered if they weren’t just wasting their time, maybe they should tell the sheriff about this place.

  “Yeah, ‘cause he’s been so helpful.” Karen sighed and looked to the right. She noticed a small hole in the barn and stepped closer to it. The hole was positioned just a bit too high and she had to stand on her toes to look inside.

  She could see an entrance at the top of the barn, which she imagined Luther would try to enter through. Sunlight poured in from there, enabling her to look around. The barn was mostly empty, with hay lining the ground. She also saw what looked like animals lying on the ground, sleeping.

  Karen stared at those animals and then one of them started moving, rising up. She nearly gasped—it wasn’t an animal, but a person. She could only make out the person’s shape, and it looked like they were limping. She watched carefully, hoping it might be her brother. Karen took a chance and whispered, “Sam!”

  The silhouette stopped. Karen held her breath in anticipation. “Sam! It’s me! Karen!”

  The man turned toward her, moving closer to her. Karen’s lips spread wide in a smile across her face. “I’m gonna get you outta here, okay? I’m with someone, he’s looking for a way in right now. It’s gonna be okay, Sam, it’s—”

  She silenced herself when she got a good look at the man who came toward her. Whoever it was, it certainly wasn’t Sam. And it certainly didn’t look very human. Chunks of hair were missing, clothes torn, and large, open sores lined the body. The lips were gone, revealing blood stained teeth, and one eye had no lids. That eye looked far larger than the other. What was more was the brownish yellow skin.

  It came toward her rapidly, banging on the wall and snarling. Karen screamed and jumped back, standing in stunned silence. She covered her mouth with her hands, and then took another chance at walking forward. The thing still banged on the wall and through the hole she could also see others rising up and moving toward their brother.

  “Karen!”

  Luther ran around the barn, holding his gun at the ready. He came by her side and placed a calming hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Th-the barn—what’s in the barn?”

  Luther looked back to the barn and saw the hole. He held up his gun, pointing it at the wall as he moved cautiously forward. When he approached, he removed his sunglasses and looked inside. Though he saw the same thing as Karen had, his reaction seemed to be borne out of irritation rather than fear.

  “Wonderful. Just what I need.”

  “Wh-what are those things?” asked Karen.

  Luther walked toward her and grabbed her arm, pulling her back toward the fence. “I have to get you out of here.”

  “B-but the barn—Sam—”

  Luther stopped and tugged her arm forcefully, pulling her in front of him. “If your brother’s in there, he’s dead. Now I have to get you out of here, clear out that barn, and then find whoever’s responsible for this and put a bullet in his head.”

  Karen was still staring at the barn, apparently ignoring every single word Luther said to her. “What’s in the barn?”

  “Slow moving corpses, rotted flesh, animal like noises—do I have to spell it out for you?” asked Luther. “They’re zombies, Karen.”

  Karen finally turned her eyes to Luther’s, her mouth agape in horror. She shook her head rapidly. “No! No, no, no, no, no, no! Zombies! Aren’t! Real!”

  “Save your breakdown until after I’ve gotten you back to town, we don’t have time for it now.”

  Luther pulled her arm again, practically dragging Karen to the fence. Her eyes never wavered from the barn, staring back at it, even as Luther pulled her to the fence. Once they reached it, Luther pushed her through the opening and came out himself.

  And then he heard the sirens.

  “Dammit!” Luther was just about to pull Karen into the forest, but the sheriff and his deputy were standing behind the open doors of their cruiser, shotguns aimed at the pair of them.

  “Don’t you move!”

  Luther stopped. If he were alone, he could try and make a run for it. But with Karen here, he’d be risking her life as well. Luther raised his arms and the two officers approached, never lowering their guns.

  “Drop the gun!” barked the sheriff.

  Luther released his grip on the butt, the revolver’s trigger guard resting on his index finger. He held his hand forward and let the gun fall to the grass. The deputy bent down and picked it up, examining it with surprise.

  “Well now, looks like we’ve got ourselves some trespassers,” said the sheriff. “The hell you two doin’ out here anyway?”

  “I’m helping her look for her brother,” said Luther.

  “That so?” The sheriff turned to Karen, who was still staring at the barn. “The hell were you thinkin’, Miss Dixon? You know how dan
gerous these woods can be? Then trespassin’ on Mr. Pearson’s property?”

  “The barn…” muttered Karen.

  “What was that?” asked the sheriff.

  “The barn…” she repeated. “The barn, the barn, the barn, the barn, the barn…”

  The sheriff looked away from her and shook his head. He stared at Luther. “And then there’s you. Thought I told you to hit the road?”

  “Not so good at listening,” said Luther.

  “Yeah, well now you’re under arrest.”

  The sheriff was too agitated for Luther’s influence to work on him. And though he could easily overpower both these cops, that would still leave Karen in danger. The barn was sealed up tight, so Luther figured the best way to get Karen to safety was to allow the cops to take him.

  Luther looked at the house as the deputy slapped a pair of handcuffs on him. On the porch, Luther could see the man from his vision, the man who must be the Mr. Pearson the sheriff referred to. Pearson stood on the porch, sipping his coffee and staring right back at Luther.

  * * *

  “You have to let us out!”

  The sheriff stood from the desk and strolled to the holding cell, looking at Karen on the other side, her hands wrapped around the bars. The sheriff rested both hands on his belt and grinned. “And why’d I do that, Miss Dixon?”

  “There was something in that barn.”

  “What’d that be?”

  “It was—I don’t know what, but something. Something that wasn’t human.”

  Both the sheriff and the deputy laughed. Karen looked to her cellmate for back up, but Luther was lying on the bench. He kept his sunglasses on, so Karen didn’t know whether or not he was even awake.

  “Lady, I dunno what sort of crazy you slipped in, but you sure got it all over you,” said the sheriff. “Tom Pearson may not’ve been very social since he lost his wife and kid, but he’s never given cause for suspicion. And as I recall, it was you an’ your mysterious new friend who tore open his fence and were trespassin’ on his property.”