by J.R. Torina
Will woke up in a hospital bed. The autumn sun shone outside, gray clouds intermittently causing the sunlight to cascade brightly upon the orange, red and golden yellow leaves outside the window. He smiled, leaning back into the soft bed. The smile faded...
Burton. Alice. That man, that crazy priest... And what about the Phage?
He started, moving to get out of the bed.
“Easy, easy,” a soothing, female voice came from seemingly nowhere. “You’ve been through a lot—take it easy. You’re safe. It’s okay.”
The nurse was a beautiful young lady, smiling at him as she stood over the bed, holding a clipboard. He found the smile curious, as it didn’t seem like it was very sincere for some reason. Of course, he was groggy and had been through quite a bit, so he passed it off as nothing.
“What time is it? Where am I?”
“It’s about dinner time, actually. It’s around five. I was going to hook you up to an IV, but now that you’re conscious, I’ll go get you some dinner.”
“Wait... The police, I need to talk to the police!”
“They’ve already come and gone.”
“What? No, you don’t understand, I was up in the mountains, there was a guy, a lunatic... My friends, they’re dead! He killed them!”
“Yes, yes, it’s all in hand. Please, try to relax. I understand, you’re distraught, upset. Please!” She gently pushed him back down into the bed. “Please, just relax. The police know everything about that area up there; they’ve taken the man into custody, and the proper authorities have been contacted, regarding the...the bodies.”
“You’re sure? You’re positive?”
“Yes, positive. Now, lay back, drink some of this water. I’m going to go and get you some dinner. Meatloaf sound good?”
“Yeah, whatever, whatever...”
“You can eat, and I’ll call the inspector back, now that you’re awake. He still wants to talk to you, hear your story, okay?”
“Okay, good.”
He lay there, thinking about the events of the last twenty four hours, and his friends. He remembered the maniacal preacher, and the blow from behind, and the nightmare that followed.
“Here we are!” the nurse sang, as she came back into the room, a full tray of food in her hands. She set it down on the tray next to the bed.
Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, and juice. The warm, salty steam coming off of the food reminded Will just how hungry he was; it had to have been at least a day since he’d eaten anything at all.
A man in a shirt and tie walked into the room.
“This is Inspector Morgan, Will. He wants you to tell him everything you went through up there.”
“Hi, Will. Can I call you that?”
“Sure.”
Morgan was a lean man, average height, wearing a trilby men’s hat and a long overcoat over his suit. A true police inspector, Will thought.
Morgan showed his badge to Will, repeated his name, and sat down beside the bed.
“Please, feel free to eat, don’t mind me. You can tell me what happened over a mouthful of your dinner, if you don’t mind.”
“No problem”
Cutting off a sizable chunk of meatloaf and bulldozing it through the mashed potatoes and gravy, he put the forkful of food in his mouth, savoring the taste.
He suddenly remembered the inspector.
“Sorry.”
“No problem, whenever you’re ready. And please, continue eating.”
Another forkful of meat and gravy.
Will faithfully recounted all that had transpired in the past twenty-four hours, up to the point where he had lost consciousness, from the blow to the head upon his attempted departure from the mad minister’s church of horrors.
“After that, where were you?”
“I’m not sure, to tell you the truth.”
“Were you still up in the mountains?”
“Yes, I was.”
Another forkful of mashed potatoes, gravy and meat.
“So you were probably still at this...church, then?”
“Yes, I was.”
“What do you recall when you gained consciousness?”
“I woke up in a coffin.”
Slightly surprised at the inspector’s lack of emotion or surprise at that, Will continued. “I was underground, beneath a cemetery, noticing the graves had been dug out from the bottom, and some of the coffins had been pulled down, after being dug at. Sheer brute force had yanked the coffins down, from below. They were everywhere. Some of them tumbled upside down or sideways, some of them opened and the...the contents spilled out, all over the place. Some of the bodies seemed to have huge bites taken out of them, and others had chisel marks, or what looked like chisel marks, but made from what I thought were teeth, as if some huge cat, like a cougar, had done this. But...”
“Yes, go on?”
“Well, it’s crazy...”
“Really, after the last few days, and all you’ve been through yourself, I’ll believe anything. Tell me.”
“It seemed as if the teeth marks in the bodies, they...well, they were by something way bigger than any mountain cat or bear. It was more like, by the looks of the bite marks, I don’t know, a giant rat, or something?”
“Hmm, that’s strange.” Another dispassionate response to a somewhat outlandish claim.
He continued. “There were also broken shards and pieces of wood all over, and upon closer inspection, I figured they were from coffins, some of them so old it was as if this debris had been here for many long years indeed. There were body parts everywhere. And blood. Some of it dried, some of it fresh. Further down, there seemed to be a passageway, littered with more rotting wood, and what seemed to be limbs, bones and skulls scattered all throughout. There were also small piles of dirt or mud every so often, which I figured were droppings of some kind, but what sort of animal lives under a graveyard and eats dead bodies? I appeared to be inside what had to be some man-made cavern, as there were torches affixed here and there, but most of them were out. A flight of stairs went up an earthy passageway that led to the surface. Vines and roots hung all over the place. Of the torches, only two or three burned. I picked one off of the wall, and went up, the fire from the torch lighting my way. I ended up in the main necropolis of a cemetery, next to a fabulous sculpted skeleton in the center of a pool with a fountain in the middle of the grounds, trees and green grass surrounding everywhere.”
The inspector regarded him with one raised eyebrow and urged, “Do go on.”
“Then, I heard the screeching sound of something behind me, something that sounded angry and too terrible to contemplate. I turned, and there it was—this thing, the creature that I suspected was there, was real; I dared not imagine it was really behind this. But, what human, even at their most disreputable, could perform such heinous acts? Its bellowing was something like a snuffling—spraying mucus and saliva everywhere—crossed with a scream or shrieking sound. It was hideous. The thing was standing directly across from me, slowly advancing, pausing with each couple of steps. Its posture was menacing, its arms spread, claws open, back curved and hunched over. Long, greasy white hair reached down to its shoulders, draped over unholy glowing eyes, strange eyes of a sickly yellow color. Its skin was pasty white, mottled with dark lesions, probably from its steady habit of eating human remains. Its lips were a sickening mauve color, wrapped around huge, almost tusk-like incisors, sort of like a walrus, but somewhat shorter, darkened with old blood and stained with filth from who knows what. It had a slender, wiry build, yet was strongly muscled. Its hands were filthy, stained with soil, blood, and offal; the thick fingers ended in talon-like claws. I could see that most of its digging was done by hand, if one could call those obscene protrusions hands, in a normal sense. Its shoulders were draped over by a greenish-brown moss—or was it growing out of him? I couldn't tell from that distance. I had no intention of getting closer.”
The inspector gestured for him to go on.
“Its chest heaved as it breathed in and out heavily. Matted, greasy hair, sickly white, shone with a dull luster. The vile creature was caked with all manner of obscene filth. It almost seemed as if pestilence grew out of this monstrosity. Moss and even the odd mushroom cap sprouted out here and there. This led me to think that this thing was somehow of the earth. Yet it also seemed that the beast may have once been human—if one could get past its monstrous outward appearance. The long, once fair hair, the semblance of a beard, not to mention its general human build and posture. Was this perhaps some ancient warrior, left behind...and somehow still alive, all this time? A cursed warrior from eons past?”
The inspector looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
“At any rate, the filthy creature began advancing toward me steadily now, with greater and more malignant purpose. Apparently, I had interrupted its feeding, trespassing on its sacred grounds of the dead or whatever, where it reveled in rotten flesh and dined on corpses at its own leisure. It lunged toward me, sweeping its muscular arm out, trying to claw my face. I jumped back, stumbled, and tripped over a small headstone. As I fell, my arm splashed into water. Behind me was a fountain with a small pond surrounding it, a short wall encircling it all the way around. Without giving it much more thought, I jumped up onto the small pond enclosure as the beast advanced upon me. Leaning against a carved statue of a skeleton, I kicked with all my body weight and both of my feet squarely into its chest, the sickening feeling was like sinking into wet mud, making a squelching sound that was just as revolting. It lurched backward, losing its balance. After lunging toward me again, I leaned over and picked up the still-burning torch from where I'd dropped it. The creature saw this, and to my surprise, put up its arm to shield itself, like a vampire shrieking at the sight of a crucifix!”
The inspector just regarded me with that unwavering stare of his.
Will was lost in his narrative, seeming almost possessed. “Fire! It was afraid of fire! I took this opportunity to run, knowing full well this thing's very touch would mean disease or death, to say nothing of its muscular arms and claws that could tear me apart. I realized I was still in the church area, apparently in the adjoining cemetery. I ran back down the pathway, until I saw the house and church again. Glancing behind me I could see it running down the path after me, its eyes glowing with unholy anticipation. I jumped in the van and took off as fast as I could. It swatted at the vehicle and I heard a crash, like it had broken a window or a tail light. I saw its eyes in my rear view mirror glowing in the darkening gloom. I tore out onto the road, heading back the way we had come the day before, and then sped onto the pavement. It followed me, but as I put distance between us its eyes faded in the rear view mirror. I’ll never forget those eyes. To be honest, I don’t remember much after that, apart from getting to the bottom of the mountain, and noticing the fog was gone from the city. I’m pretty sure I lost consciousness after that. Now you can tell me how I got here.”
The inspector paused a moment then replied, “You were found at the wheel of the van, Will. You had passed out, most probably due to a combination of exposure, shock, malnutrition, and who knows what else. You’ve been through a lot. You’ve survived the Phage, someone who tried to kill you, seen numerous murdered humans, including your own friends, and apparently survived an attack by some wild animal in the woods.”
“Wild animal? They identified it, then?”
“Well, no; not quite. Based on what you’ve told me, I’ll start organizing a well-armed search team, to head up there tonight. We'd like to locate this church you’ve told us about. Do you remember telling us about any of this when you arrived here last night?”
“No, no I don’t.”
“That’s understandable. But you gave us more or less the same story, without all the detail. We have already apprehended this “Minister” character, but we’ve seen no evidence of any...well, monster, as of yet. At least not one as...inhuman as you've described, anyway.”
“You didn’t see it...you didn’t see the underground charnel house?”
The inspector’s radio went off, interrupting the discussion. He quickly answered, and while he talked, Will tried to finish his meal, not quite as interested in it now as he was before.
How could they have missed the charnel house, the underground lair of that filthy beast? And for that matter, how could they have missed the dismal creature itself?
It couldn’t have fled the scene, could it? And why would it? The Minister was feeding it with bodies galore. Wild animals don’t just leave a food source...
He suddenly remembered how corpses he had discovered by the stream had missing limbs and bite marks on them as well. The priest was responsible for those deaths...
Was this creature controlled, or some kind of pet, to this morbid minister up there in the mountains? Perhaps so...
But again, his mind reeled. How could the police and a detective unit not have seen anything, any sign of the monster? Unless...
“Unless they were all in on it, too,” he thought to himself.
“Clever, my son,” came a familiar and totally unwelcome voice from the doorway.
Standing there, flanked just inside the doorway by the nurse and the inspector, was the morbid minister of death himself. The smile on his face was one of triumph. A blood-stained bandage was wrapped around his head, where Will had pummeled him less than a day ago. The look in the Minister's eye revealed he had his prey after all.
Will felt a cold sweat burst out of his body, his heart sinking. Oily sweat oozed out of his palms and fingertips, as he balled them into fists.
“You stumbled onto something,” the Minister said. “You were a good actor up there. But now, the time for performances is at an end. Would you like to confess your sins to me, my son?”
“You...” he could only stammer.
“Confess to me, my son.” A wicked smile broke out on the Minister’s face.
“I confess that I should have killed you when I had the chance, you bastard! You and that dirty mutant freak of yours!”
“Hush now, my son. You shouldn’t speak of the savior that way. It is through him that I have seen the light, and those of us here, as well. And so shall you.”
At that, they advanced on him, the inspector holding him down, the nurse helping, an antique looking syringe in her hand.
The nurse spoke to him calmly, “Please, don’t fight us, William! It’s already too late! Don’t you know? Morgan, tell him.”
“Tell me what?”
The inspector piped in. “Will, you are saved from the Phage. The Phage was created in part by toxins from auto emissions; carbon monoxide. But, there was a laboratory in town, that was working on a special project for the military, and it fell into terrorist hands. They made a sort of dirty bomb, but one that works slowly, using our own pollution.”
“Yes, William, my son. And you see, the spores from certain fungi are the key to survival. Mushrooms indigenous to this area! The cure is from Him—from the Savior!” The Minister pointed wildly to the curtain separating the room in half, as the nurse drew it back viciously.
There, standing idly, was the filthy creature from the mountains; the carrion beast.
“You’ve been breathing in spores from his mushrooms all this time, for the past half day. You’ve eaten them, in that wonderful meal we had prepared for you. There is no turning back now. You are one of us!”
Indeed, the creature appeared somewhat different. Small mushroom caps sprouted up from the moss and mud covering its body. It seemed as if they did indeed grow right out of its leprous skin.
He couldn’t believe it. To have survived all he had endured so far, and fought so hard...only to be tricked, duped like this...and to lose. He didn’t want to believe it, but he said nothing, because he knew it was true. He felt something, a wetness in the back of his throat, a settling of internal organs. A strange calm fell over him, despite that he knew this was wrong. It was like being intoxicated, yet helpless to act.
His own consciousness was slipping, being replaced by something else. His body warmed up, as if he were becoming numb all over, but he felt somehow...alive.
He stopped struggling. The monster advanced on him as he lay on the bed, the trio of humans still holding him down. The beast raised a filthy claw, blood dripping from the index finger, and proceeded to mark a small vertical line of blood upon Will’s forehead.
“Worship me,” it whispered in a guttural voice, from a throat that sounded as if it came from Hell itself.
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