he tore her bloody as he bulled his way inside her, laughing at her pitiful screaming.
The circle of dancers laughed with Black, howling their glee at the child's wails of pain. Falcon ran to her, teeth shining brightly in the torchlight. Fanged. He bent his head and tore at the vein in her neck, sucking her blood just as Black began his ejaculation.
Rats, the lower form of creatures that they are, began running and squeaking around the dancers, they, too, taking a joyful part in the evil ceremonies. Bats wheeled and cut the night, squeaking their contentment to be free of the darkness in which they had been confined.
'The merman!' Falcon looked up from the girl's throat, blood leaking from his mouth. He pointed to the sky as a horrible creature sluggishly made its way through the darkness.
Others of the Coven rushed forward to drink at the dying girl's fountain of gushing blood. A male member of the Coven took Black's place between the girl's legs, lunging at her as her body began to pale from the loss of blood.
'I don't believe I'm seeing this,' Sam muttered.
'What is that thing?' Linda asked. 'It looks like it's half man—or monster—and half fish.'
'And part goat,' Sam muttered, looking at the horned head of the merman.
'Call the little people!' Falcon shouted. 'Come, imps. You have our Master's permission. Come!'
At first, Sam began to sense, more than see, the change in the sky. The change was very gradual, the flush in th sky above the circle of stones changing little by little, from a dark amber, through the color patterns, until finally it settled into a dark, bloody red, the glow transforming the scene before them and around them, their own faces and exposed hands now an ugly red.
'What is that smell?' Nydia asked, still sitting on the log behind Sam and Linda.
'Sulfur,' Sam whispered.
'It's more than that,' Nydia said. 'It's … evil.'
Linda looked at her.
The sky was now a color of Hell, the flames—real or imagined—licked the area above them, dancing down out of the sky to touch and mar the earth. The stink from the pits stung the eyes of the three on the ridge, wrinkling their noses against the smell.
As Falcon began another incantation, the sky was suddenly filled with bats, hundreds of them, their excrement falling to the ground with soft plops. The ground around the circle wriggled with rats, their red eyes reflecting dully in the torchlight and the strange coloration of the sky.
'Hear me, 0 Lord of Filth. Hear my cries, 0 Prince of Darkness. Hold us close to your chest, Apollyon. Let us taste more of your foulness; touch us with your lips; let us hear the sounds of your cloven hooves. For we, to a soul, are yours. Send the forces of all that is evil to aid us. Send the serpents and the demons, the denied and the defiled. Come to us, little people!'
And as if Merlin had suddenly waved his wand, the ground around the altar was filled with satanic imps, dancing and leaping and laughing wickedly.
The wind picked up, slamming its strength and coldness over the land, blowing first cold, then hot, confusing the elements. Falcon's voice grew stronger, ringing over the night-draped, red-tinged, evil-enveloped countryside.
'Asmodeus! Belial! Beelzebub! Mephistopheles! We who serve you implore you to rip away the veil and send all the forces to us. We are in need of the help only you can send. We stand in awe of your majestic power, Great One, and pray through the blackness you hear our cries.'
Falcon turned, signaling for the second girl to be brought to the altar. She was dragged, screaming, to the dark flat stone, her clothing ripped from her, exposing her nakedness to the cold-hot winds and the hungry eyes of the worshipers of filth. Her breasts had just begun to bud, and only the lightness of down touched her apex. The dead girl, pale and bloodless, ghostly white, was rudely tossed to the ground. A Beast ran forward, grabbed the girl, and raced back to the outer circle. There, she was devoured, the flesh stripped from her, stuffed into drooling mouths.
The screaming girl, no more than a child, was positioned on the altar, legs spread wide apart. Falcon leaped upon the altar, lifting his robe, exposing his maleness, jutting and throbbing with power.
'For you, Master,' Falcon said. 'Only for you.' He positioned himself and hunched savagely.
The girl's wailing echoed around the stones and the barren earth as Falcon split her, blood leaking from her torn vagina. Falcon pushed deeper.
'It's cold,' the girl shrieked. 'Cold! God—help me!'
Members of the Dark Coven laughed at her pitiful cries for help, shouting profanities and blasphemies at her, their hooting and laughing sullying the red night.
The laughter and the cursing increased with each lunge from Falcon, each push that brought wails of pain from the child. Th« flickering flames from the torches seemed to join and mingle with the bloody red of the sky.
Sam then noticed the third girl. She had gradually slipped back from the men who had brought her, moving no more than an inch or two each time. They had not noticed her, all their attentions riveted on the scene of rape and defilement on the now bloody altar.
'She's going to make a break for it,' Sam muttered. 'I'll bet you that's Janet. I've got to help her.'
'Sam … !' Nydia protested.
'No. It's something I have to do. She's suffered enough.'
The look in Linda's eyes was strange: a mixture of loathing and respect.
'I'm going down to that second ridge,' Sam pointed, checking the Thompson. The full drum was fitted in the belly of the SMG, the canvas pouch filled with clips on Sam's belt. He turned to look at Nydia.
