couldn’t find him-he was going to show him the pictures of the altar stone and ask him about them. But he did find Pastor Mark, who had been offering some comfort to the missing girl’s mother earlier.
“Erik, I wanted to thank you for your help last night,” Mark said.
“Oh, it’s nothing. It could be my kid out there.”
“These are very sad times. Very sad times.”
Erik made some small talk as he tried to figure out how to ask the pastor about the altar stone. Finally, he decided to just jump in.
“Pastor, do you have a minute? There’s something important that I’d like to share with you?”
“Why sure, Erik. What is it?”
Erik led him over to his car and took the folder containing the picture and the article from the front seat.
“Pastor, I’ve been doing some research and I think something very strange and unsettling is going on here. I’m not sure what to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, these woods…. Here. Look at this stuff I found in the library.”
Pastor Mark looked at the picture and read the article, then the retraction that followed later.
“What are you saying, Erik? That this stuff is real?”
Erik went on to explain what had happened to Todd, and what the boy had told him. Then he told him about Steve Harvey, the radio talk show host, and his story.
“I don’t know if any of these things are connected or not, or how it all adds up, but even the sheriff thinks there have been some weird goings on here. And now we have a missing girl.”
Mark rubbed his forehead for a long moment. “So you think this…thing, this rock is out there in the woods somewhere? Why hasn’t anyone found it?”
“Because I don’t think it
“Well, I am from the old school, the conservative school….”
“And what I’m saying is ‘New Age’, right?”
“On the contrary. The Bible teaches that Satan exists and that there are demons. That was true in ancient times. Why wouldn’t it be true today?”
“So you think this is possible?”
“Possible, yes. I’ll admit that I’m not convinced yet, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. It just means I haven’t been convinced yet.”
“So what should we do?”
“I think we should begin by seeing if this altar stone really does exist.”
“If it does, I know one man who could lead us to it. Johnny Dovecrest. I’m sure he knows something about all this.”
Mark nodded. “Then let’s go pay him a visit.”
6
Seti watched his followers dance naked around the altar. There was Rhonda, the dark-haired one, so pregnant that she might burst open at any second. She disgusted him now, but the brat might have a use. And there was Marion and Monique, the twins. Fine young bodies and great in bed-especially together. Crissy, the blonde, with the perky, upturned breasts and the expert tongue. Shanika, the black one with the hard body. And Rosea, the brunette, plump and juicy.
And the men. Seti wasn’t as interested in the men, though he had gone both ways. Frank, the electrician, a little rough around the edges but very easy to control. And Jack, the schoolteacher, so gay that it hurt to watch him walk. Bud, the ex-cop who had been drummed out of the force for messing with children. Tony, the ex-stripper whose life was one drama after another. That one was going to be replaced, Seti vowed-he’d had enough of his emotional outbursts and pouting. The others were easy to control, but this one was emotional and unstable. He wouldn’t last much longer. Then there was Pete, just 16 and a runaway. Seti imagined this life of sex and scandal was a fantasy come true for this cast-off teen. And finally, Ryan, the cold, quiet one. Sometimes Seti worried about what might be going on in that dark mind.
They were finishing the dance now, and it was almost time. Seti felt the ceremonial knife in his hand and licked his lips in anticipation. He felt the entity quivering in his mind, almost orgasmic with anticipation.
Guided by the voice, he walked closer to the altar, past the ring of dancers, and looked at the girl. She looked back at him through one good eye with a gaze that showed no fear, only resignation. Just get it over with, she seemed to say, though her lips did not move. Ah, Little Girl, he thought. If only it were that easy. A quick, painless death would be so easy. But it was not about to happen. He had something more for her in mind. Her suffering was like food, her pain like nectar to this unseen god. And he so very much needed to feast.
Seti lifted his arms up over his head, pointing the knife up towards the moon. The dancers stopped, on cue. The time had come.
“Master,” he said. “I give you this child’s suffering as my gift to you. May you feast and grow strong.”
He lowered the knife to her heart-merely a tease, since he wouldn’t cut deep enough to kill, but just deep enough to begin a cut that would open her up for all to see. Then he and the dancers could feed on her still-living entrails while the demon fed on her pain. He felt the knife pierce the tender skin, and the first drops of blood spill forth. He pulled a drop of blood up with his finger and licked it off.
Then he felt a sudden impact in his side, just below his shoulder. He felt the impact before he felt the pain or heard the loud crack of the gun. The sudden jolt sent the knife deep into the girl’s flesh, much deeper than he intended and straight into her heart. She jolted upright, her body almost pulling the blade into her, and her eyes bubbled up in her head. Seti dropped the knife and reeled to face his attacker as another bullet flew past his left ear. A madman was dashing across the open field, shooting a semi-automatic pistol as he ran.
“Stop him!” Seti shouted, as the voice in his brain suddenly shrieked.
His followers immediately surrounded him, and he saw Tony go down, holding his chest. Good riddance, Seti thought, as he knelt down on the ground, holding his own side. His wound wasn’t fatal, he knew, but it would need treatment.
He saw his followers flee; only Ryan turned to face his attacker. Even the ex-cop ran away from the onslaught.
Then, as if by magic, the attacker stopped cold and threw up his arms. The gun fired uselessly into the air until it clicked on an empty chamber. Then the attacker looked directly at Seti, horror filling his eyes. He turned and ran back the way he had come like a whipped dog.
Then the voice filled Seti’s brain with a force that he could never have imagined.
“You idiot!” it screamed throughout his being. “It’s been spoiled! She didn’t suffer enough!”
Just the same, the voice had increased in power by tenfold. In fact, it was no longer just a voice now, but an actual, physical presence. Seti could feel it at the base of his neck, and when he reached around he felt a solid growth, like a tumor that had run amok. The thing was the size of a small melon, and squishy to the touch.
“That’s right,” it said. “I am part of you now. And I will remain part of you until you can bring me back in my own, true form!”
Seti felt the blood running down his side and over his legs. He looked up at the moon one more time before passing out beside the altar stone.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
1
