Hurst, Rex - What Hell May Come by Hurst Rex

Author:Hurst, Rex [Hurst, Rex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crystal Lake Publishing
Published: 2020-06-11T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

Drowning the Ceremony of Innocence

On the way out, Jon was subjected to all the nocturnal haunts exactly as what happened at Goodleburg Cemetery. With every blink, a new horror filled his sight. It was so ghastly he nearly fell through a hole in the floor. Michael needed to guide him down the treacherous stairs. He asked questions all the way about what Jon saw.

As had happened at the cemetery, visions of evil clouded his senses. Up and down the structure, people from different times and fashions committed vile acts. Beatings, thefts, rapes, and murders viciously played out around him. Dark creatures with indistinct features floated all around. Dark tendrils, rippling with profane power, rubbed over the evil doers, transferring a joy of sin to the men.

A spectral Brian Elder was on the bottom floor of the grain elevator, dressed in the style of the 1920s. He had pinned down one of the demonic things and was sucking power from it via a paper straw punctured into its skull. The magician’s shade somehow recognized Jon and waved to him before evaporating into the ether.

Jon was pulled the last hundred feet as Michael’s mythical frontiersman appeared and shot a pregnant doe. How much of that was real? How much actually had happened in the past? They had the consistency of dreams or nightmares, yet there was a pungent earthiness to them. The visions weren’t just bits of nonsense.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Jon said, after he had laid in the dirt for half an hour. “Every time we contact—”

“But that’s incorrect,” Michael interrupted. “This didn’t happen when we first contacted Calach.”

True. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Jon stared up at the twisting stars. All the answers lay out there somewhere. All the evil, horrible truths. Perhaps he should start a policy of willful ignorance, then happiness would be his.

Michael was still going on. “If what you say is accurate, then it seems you have a reaction whenever something changes as a result of contact. The world shifts or some muck at the bottom of the spiritual pool is stirred up, and you have a psychic allergic reaction.”

Did they only occur at such times? He remembered the hallucinatory episodes at his house. They were wilder, but still vivid. One had definitely happened during some bizarre ceremony at his house, but Michael didn’t need to know about that.

“Yeah well, it was all evil. Doesn’t anything nice ever happen? Why don’t I see that?”

Michael had no answer, so he sidestepped it. “The point is that this is a good sign. It means the entity has done something in the world.”

***

If Calach had affected a change, the results weren’t seen immediately. They expected Gabbaducci to spontaneously explode in horrific fashion across the school cafeteria, or die in an ironic way, but nothing.

He and his cohort of greasy stooges still stomped around talking of their standard 3 Fs: fighting, football, and fucking. Maria still hung among them. Still attached to her man. Nothing had changed.

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