'Yours and mine. Yes. It's so easy and simple once you relax your guard.' He stretched out beside her. His flaccid penis large even in softness. 'And why not?' he questioned her. 'There is nothing wrong in feeling good.'
'The Bible says what we—you did—is wrong.'
The mist once more drifted over the couple.
'Oh, shit, Patsy! Don't be so stupid. Have you ever in your life experienced anything like when you cummed today?'
The mist touched her. 'No,' she said.
Jon continued speaking. As he talked, a strange feeling began sweeping over the girl; an alien sensation never before experienced. It was as if she was being transformed from one person to another; her old self being stripped from her just as a snake sheds its skin. All her teachings, all those things once so good and dear to her were being tossed aside.
Patsy was unaware that dark forces were hovering nearby, working their ageless magic on her. And somewhere, squatting near black-tinted flames, the Master of all that is evil howled in triumph, pointing his face Heavenward, screaming oaths toward his enemy.
Patsy's eyes changed as she lost both faith and innocence. Clouds of darkness swept over the sixteen-year-old. She reached out and laid her hand on Jon's penis, her fingers gently caressing the softness. She felt him stir at her touch, the blood coursing through him, thickening him, lengthening him. She felt power beneath her fingertips. She stroked him into hardness. She leaned forward and took him. The Dark One howled. She was his.
The report of the .41 mag was shockingly loud in the early afternoon. A scream of pain from behind the small group spun the chief around. He could not believe what ran limping away, to disappear into the ground.
Little Sam had covered his ears. Now he was tuning up to cry. Nydia comforted him.
The … whatever in the hell it was was the most hideous thing Monty had ever seen. 'What in the name of God was that!'
'A Beast,' Nydia said, holding Little Sam tightly. 'One of Satan's creatures. They live underground; they're probably all over this area. They live in groups, only coming out at Satan's request. It must be getting close to the Black Mass for them to surface.'
'The Black Mass?' Joe managed to croak.
'It's a Saturday,' Nydia explained. 'The High Black Mass could be held tonight. Some covens differ from others in their choosing of a night of the week in which to call upon the forces of darkness.'
Joe stood with his mouth hanging open, staring at the beautiful young woman. Monty thought perhaps all this was a dream, and he would soon wake up. He hoped to God it was all a dream. Monty pointed to where the Beast had dropped into the ground.
'Where did that thing come from?' he asked Sam.
'From its lair in the ground. I've been watching it for about a minute, circling around, coming up behind you. It probably was a young Beast. From what I know about them, the older ones would never take such a chance, for as you see, they can be hurt and killed.'
Sam shrugged his shoulders. 'I know what we face, and I know what I have to do.'
'Who are we facin' and what is it you got to do?' Joe asked, his face ashen.
'We face Satan and his worshippers. And I have to fight them. It's just that simple.'
'There ain't nothing simple 'bout all this!' Joe almost shouted the words. 'Man—tell me this is some kind of joke.
'It is no joke,' Father Le Moyne said, and his words chilled Joe Bennett.
Monty seemed to come out of his trance. He looked nervously around him, as if expecting some other type of monster to come leaping at him from out of the ground. He snapped his fingers. 'Whitfield, Nebraska. You were born in Whitfield. That's the town that was destroyed back in 1958. A few survivors were left, and they rebuilt the town. Then about three years ago, a giant meteor struck there, killing everybody and completely wiping out the town and the land around it for several miles.'
'It was the hand of God,' Sam corrected the man.
' 'Lordy, Lordy, Lordy!' Joe said. He looked upward, as if expecting to see a mighty fist forming.
'The Devil's agent in Whitfield, back in 1958, was a man named Black Wilder. My father killed him. Not as you know death, but he sent him from earth. My father agreed to fight Nydia, the witch. He both won and lost.'
'Lordy, Lordy!' Joe said.
'And Nydia is your
'No,' she lied. 'My mother's name was Roma. But she was also a witch.' She was not about to tell these people anymore about her links with Sam.
The odor of the Beasts was strong in the old orchard. Father Le Moyne grimaced his disgust. 'Let us please retire to the house. I don't want you people to think me cowardly, but that smell is making me physically ill.'
'You just ain't whistlin' Dixie 'bout that,' Joe said.
'I hit it hard,' Sam said. 'It will probably die. Its own kind will eat it.'
Joe's stomach rumbled at the thought. 'Monty,' he said clutching at the Chiefs arm. 'We gotta call the state police or the National Guard, or—hell, somebody.
'It's too late for that,' Nydia said in a matter-of-fact tone. 'Everything has been set in motion. Satan will allow no interference from this point forward. Not until the game has reached its conclusion.'
