Alone

Scared as hell souls ran in every direction causing a tornado of black chaos. Hunters mounted beasts of horrible disgust, chasing newly arrived spirits with barbed whips and heavy chain. Torn cloth worn like bandanas across the face shielded the hunter’s ugliness, yielding an air of mysterious horror.

Allison paralyzed as a whip cracked and wrapped itself around the neck of a fleeing soul. The hunter reared back on it's mounted beast pulling the damned spirit hard to the ground.

"Run! Don't stop!" Monika's voice sounded in our ears. "Head for those rocks!"

A rock formation jetted out in the distance. I grabbed Allison's hand, put my head down and ran only to fall face first, cracking my chin on a sharp rock. Blood splattered the rock as an excruciating jolt shot up my leg. I rolled over to see a dismounted hunter standing over me, a morning star mace with a slightly crooked handle hung by his side, the source of the blinding pain in my foot.

“Go!” I screamed.

“Allison grabbed a handful of dirt and sand from the ground, hurling it in desperation at the hunter’s face, temporarily blinding his vision and causing him to stumble backward. Allison ran, weaving her way to the rocks. I prayed for her safety while fearing for my own.

Instinct told me to scream out for Allison’s help but experience knew better. I couldn't blow her cover, swarms of hunters would tear the place up looking for her. Before the disoriented hunter could regain his sight he was blindsided by a stampeding beast without a rider, knocking the him motionless to the ground.

"Hurry, Will. Crawl. Suck up the pain. You have to get to safety before you're caught." Monika said.

"Allison." I said.

"I'll double back and find her as soon as you're safe. Now hurry!"

I stayed low, hoping the mounted hunters wouldn't see me army crawl to a large boulder about fifty yards away; hearing the blood curdling screams of the unfortunate souls who weren't so lucky to evade capture. I prayed Allison's voice wasn't mixed with the chorus of agony as I propped my back against a boulder hidden from sight.

"Allison."

"In a minute." Monika said.

"She doesn't have a minute. Now!"

"Keep your voice down. If I don't tend to your ankle neither one of you will make it." Monika reached down, rubbing her transparent hands on my displaced ankle, reciting prayers of healing. The pain told me it wasn't normal. Monika continued to pray and lay her hands over the crooked bone. To my amazement, the foot slowly corrected itself. The pain reduced to minor numbness.

"How'd you do that?" I asked.

"Stay still. You need a second to recover."

“This was a bad idea, Monika."

"John warned of the toil and strife we'd face." Monika said.

"John's going to have to find another. I'm not as strong as he thinks."

"Stop Will. John warned us that hell wouldn't be easy, that the demons are strong and their lies stronger. Don't slip, now more than ever we need to exercise faith."

“I have to know that Allison is ok. I won’t rest until she's accounted for.”

“You must exercise faith, Will. Believe Allison is ok and she will be.”

"I don’t have what you have, Monika.”

"Maybe you’re right." Monika said, her response confusing. I fully expected a rally speech about never giving up, about how prayer and faith would guide us out of despair, but Monika's trembling voice told me the levee was breaking.

"You know I'm right, Monika."

"What do you want me to say, Will? There's nothing I can do or say that will convince you otherwise. Only you can do that, only you can find the strength within. If you cannot, then maybe it is best for you to go."

"I’m wondering if the mission to rescue Judas was doomed from the get go.” I said.

“Now isn't the time for second guessing.”

“The docks, the boat ride, separation. I see clearly what my heart was trying to tell me all along. I'm no hero, no chosen one. I'm going home, but not without Allison. She’s coming home with me." I said. "Will you help me find her?" Monika was silent, unsure of how to proceed. A twisted force pulled her in two directions, her loyalty to John and the mission, and her unconditional love for me.

“You love her, don’t you, Will?” Monika looked away as soon as the words left her mouth.

“I just don’t want to see her get hurt anymore. She’s been through enough, I shouldn't have let her come. Please Monika, will you help me?” Monika remained hesitant. "Look, I can't feel it, you know, faith. I can’t feel it like you can. Something's missing. There's a disconnection, a void. I don't have what you have. I just want to find Allison and go home.”

"What about the mission?" Monika spoke softly. I looked upon her ghostly face, moisture forming at the corners of her deep eyes. "What about John?”

I breathed deep. “I wanted to help him, I truly did, but I was in denial. I believe part of him was too. Deep down I knew from the start there was no pulling Judas out of hell. Think about it. It’s an impossible task. The sooner I find Allison and get us home the sooner John can move on from his denial. We all can move on. I know your feelings toward Allison. It was wrong for me to ask your help. I won't hold it against you. There's no hard feelings."

“So that’s it? You’re quitting? Just gonna give up on the mission before it's even started. Give up on Judas? On John? On me?” My eyes cast down, the ground felt harder and the air colder as bone cutting wind swirled us.

“This isn't the way.” I whispered.

“If I find her will you keep going?” Monika asked. I paused, letting the words sink in before looking up into nothing. Monika vanished.

“Wait!” I scanned my surroundings, eyes darting left and right, body shaking with the discovery that I was now truly alone. I didn't take long for the separation I feared the most to become reality. “I guess I don't have a choice, so much for free will.” Bad thoughts hammered my brain. It was a mistake to come back. It was a mistake to let Allison come with. I signed her death warrant. My stomach clenched.

Scratching and scathing came from all sides of the darkness. A stray arrow shattered against the boulder behind me. Voices grew louder and closer, causing panic. I crawled to the edge of decaying brush and tree, losing myself in the camouflage of the undergrowth before rising to my feet, running regardless of the pain through the trees, far into the barren waste of the dark land.

The landscape confused my navigation, always the same. Darkness painted against a blackened sky, a faint reddish glow permeating the land. It only took a second before up became down and the white knight was talking backwards.

I stopped running to catch my breath, a fatal mistake, no rest for the wicked. A giant beast swooped down from the midnight sky, a nightmare screaming toward me, eyes glowing white hot as it dug it's Freddy Krueger claws into my backside. It's powerful wings spread out wide, screeching blasts of scalding wind behind as it sped through the air, carrying me like a field mouse to a hawk’s family dinner.

The beast's talons dug deep into my skin. Chunks ripped off causing my fall from its grip. I hurled towards the rocky ground below. Seconds before my body exploded like a watermelon rolling off a picnic table, the creature swooped down again, jabbing deeper into my flesh. It’s claws wrapped tight around my ribs, assuring it would not drop its prey a second time, the pain taking me to the edge of unconscious.

The beast carried me across the unending rocky wastes before landing on a ledge high above the ground below. It could transform its shape at will, alternating between beast and demonic form at random. The demonic form was large and imposing. It had the shape of a man but it's figure grossly misshapen. Large muscular biceps and forearms protruded out, sitting upon stilt like legs, making it several inches taller than it should've been. The head was large and covered by a helmet, reminding me of walking through the ancient warrior display at the city museum.

“What are you gonna do with me?” I whispered.

The demon pointed to a small entrance that opened up to a cavern, never speaking, preferring to project his thoughts into my mind. By the sheer force of powerful intimidation I was compelled forward into the cavern. Uneasiness pumped through my veins. Darkness surrounded me. Inside the cave was pitch black, but there was noise, unholy screeching and scratching. Groaning faded in and out, louder and softer, the ground seemed to move beneath me. I walked forward powerless to stop until a stone wall did it for me.

I put my hand out to steady my balance. What I pulled off the wall I will never forget. Wet, stringy, and thin, enough to break me free from the demonic thought control.

I ran back to the entrance of the cavern, smacking hard into the stone like statue of the demon beast who brought me, knocking my body to the ground. I lifted my hands. Rotted stringy hair soaked in blood fell from my fingers as I let out a death scream right into the beast's wild eyes. The demon stared and raised it's arms. A dull dirty ball of reddish light formed inside the demon's hands, used as a lantern to light our way back into the cavern.

I can't tell you I was held against my will because I'd be lying. I was drawn to the demon like a magnet. He felt like a teacher, like he had something to give. A mystique surrounded him, like a bad accident, I couldn't bring myself to look away.

I followed, moving slowly through the poorly lit darkness. Ever present in the unseen background was the grizzly grinding of machines. I knew not what they were, but imagined every possible horror of what they might be.

The demon neither spoke or made sound. The only noise, the perpetual grinding that grew louder with each step deeper into the cavern. Then the screams, screaming from whichever direction. I saw one. Its arm reached out for mine. A finger touched me, cold and clammy, I snuggled up tight to my demonic guide. He didn't take kindly to the affectionate gesture and shoved an Ovechkin forearm in my side so hard my shoulder felt like it popped from its socket when my body struck the wall.

My clandestine guide offered no help up. I watched from the ground as the demonic figure floated away, the light fading with him caused me to scurry and follow, not wanting to be consumed in a void of black.

I caught up and entered a part of the cavern that opened up to a larger room, reminding me of a north pole exhibit I once saw during the Christmas season at the Millersville mall, but this was the devil's version. Small decrepit imps scurried around working to create only what I could describe as devices of torture, the source of the grinding which now pounded my ear.

The devices weren't meant to create physical torture, they were designed to cause great psychological damage. Like a vacuum the unrelenting noise sucked and pulled at the minds of the victims, leaving them heavy and drained.

"What is this place?" I whispered.

"We're preparing for the tribulation." A voice sounded from the shadow. I spun around but didn't respond or ask any questions. "This is where we create all of our devices."

"Devices for what?" I asked.

"Devices to prevent and distort progression towards the light." The voice spoke from the darkness.

The walls were lined with all manner of contraptions ... a machine shop of the damned. Screws, muzzles, clamps, ropes, transmitters and metal bars filled the shelves. "My favorites are the noise makers. I call them party favors." The voice laughed. "Only special people can hear them, ones we've cracked and have turned from the light. The noise causes pain and eventual madness. Through pain and madness we gain control of the soul and its progression towards the light. We retard it and slow it down, causing failure."

"Who are you?" I called out to the shadows.

"Leave us.” The voice responded, my demonic guide bowed his head, turned and left. "What brings you to this place of finality brother?" A hearty laugh arose from the shadows before my frazzled nerves gave way to the sheer panic that now entrenched my veins. The voice emerged from the cave wall, half sheathed in darkness.

"Brother?" I said aloud, only to hear James’ still voice in the back of my mind, do not engage, reminding me of when he guided us through the city during my first tour in hell.

"Surely a soul as enlightened as yours must be a brother of mine." The voice, faintly familiar, called. I hobbled, stepping back to gain distance from it, the sensation of warm liquid filling my shoe.

"It's rude you know, to ignore someone's wishes to make your acquaintance." A silhouetted figure twisted by evil materialized in front of me, his beard stained red, I didn't need ask why. His eyes were surprisingly white, drawing me in. I'd never seen eyes that bright in hell.

Against my better judgment and the voice of James’, I spoke. "Your eyes, they're white. I haven't seen that in this realm of black."

"Spiritual light." The being replied.

"That doesn't exist." I played dumb.

"I assure you it does. I'm living, or dead proof." His laugh echoed around the cave.

"How?"

"Meditation."

"You don't look like the type." I said.

"Meditation brings power and control. With it, I can bend other's wills. Break them. Force them to do my bidding."

"Do they fight back?" I asked.

"They tire before I do."

I nodded downward, stepped to my right, escape consuming my thoughts.

"You're free to go. We cannot hold you here; the door is to your left.” Walk away. Don't engage. I turned my body to the door. “But don't you know it's rude to part without well-wishing the other party?" I remained silent. "We'll meet again soon. You have something I want." My brain flooded with the image of Allison locked in chain, tormented unrelenting. “The boy, the one you let slip through your finger's." I froze, confused by the demon’s response, Justin?

Do not engage! James’ voice now screaming in my ear. Like a magnet attracting it's opposite, I was pulled back around. The demon was mesmerizing. His thoughts overpowered my mind. His eyes gave a false comfort. I fought for control but couldn't gain it.

"You know about him?" The words left my mouth without any forethought.

“I've been watching you, since you first stepped foot upon my boat. I'm impressed, it takes an iron will to sneak into hell.”

“You're not Charon.”

“Charon works for me. There's a hierarchy to things. I'm the top of the food chain.”

"Who are you?" I asked.

"A friend."

"I don't have any."

"You’re gonna need one."

“How do you know Justin?”

“He’s family.”

***

I didn't recognize the once beloved philanthropist turned Norman Bates. John was right. Sunny Miller was a far cry from the puddle of despair he once was. The doctor, as the twisted souls called him; was sharp, sturdy, sadistic.

“You're a long way from home … Resurrectionist.” The words sent a jolt up my back. I was in trouble, deep, my cover blown right off.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"My great grandson. I sent my henchmen to collect his soul, problem is, he wasn't heavy enough to hold onto. Something's tying him to the realm of hell just above this one.”

“What do you want with him?”

“Darkness can put out the light, extinguish the flame. You have a connection. You're hatred for my boy runs deep. Why hide it? Why deny it? You serve the light. It's written all over you. I assure you, no other endeavor has ever been less productive. You can pull the boy down to me.”

“No.”

“I’m guessing you only know half the truth. So typical of the light, always hiding the truth, never wanting you have knowledge of your full potential. A Resurrectionist can work both ways. Like an elevator attendant, you can push the down button too.” Sunny said.

“As much pain as he's caused, Justin's just confused. I can see why. He never had the best role models. I won't betray him." I said.

"Oh but you already have, you already pushed the down button. You know what I'm talking about, don't you butter fingers." Sunny smiled, seeing right through my defenses, seeing the worst parts of me. He was right. I let Justin slip through my fingers, purposefully.

"You don't have to pretend here. You don't have to hide what you really are."

"And what's that? Tell me, who I really am."

"One of us!" Sunny flashed his talons, spreading his fingers wide. I stepped back, afraid to look into the ugliness that was inside me. "I don't suppose I could get you on the payroll full time." Sunny's grin made me cringe, teeth gnarled and rotten. "We have one hell of a benefits package.” He shook with vile laughter, worm and rot falling from his body.

"That will never happen." I said.

“I can see the future in all it's glory. In time, you’ll hand him over. You’ll bring my bloodline right to me.”

“And if I don't.”

“You don't have a choice. Fate controls you. I control you. Fall in line or pay the price.” Sunny said turning to face me, black veins strung out like lighting bolts from his eye sockets bulging with hate.

“What about free will?”

“Bring me the boy you let slip through your fingers." Sunny's tone sent a stern message. He wasn't messing around, and he wasn't in the mood for a philosophic debate.

“You're speaking about Justin in third person. Does that make it easier? Does that make it less painful to be what you are?”

“Watch your tongue. I'm king here. You're only still standing because I've allowed you to.”

“You can't hold me here. I can take Justin and walk right out of hell.” Sunny's tone lit a fire under me. Sometimes in hell, you have to push back.

“You're right ... but you won't.”

“There's nothing you can give me that I don't already have.” I said.

“I know about the girl." Sunny whispered, a smile cracking his lips. My stomach soured. This time there was no mistaking, Sunny was talking about Allison.

“You'll never find her.” My eye's stared into evil, a possession overcoming me.

“My best hunter's are searching right now. It's only a matter of time.” Sunny laughed.

“Allison's soul is free, like mine, she doesn't belong to the darkness. She's not like you.”

Sunny grabbed a torch light from the stone wall and walked to the center of the room. A black bowl, similar to a small caldron stood on a rickety wooden table. Sunny poured a jar of red dust into the bowl before chanting an incantation and lighting it on fire.

“Look.” He commanded. I stepped to the table against my will, peering inside the bowl. I saw a horrifying image of Allison on her knees, pleading, begging for something. My inner voice told me to deny it, an illusion, mere sorcery, but I couldn't shake it.

“She's more like you than you know. You two keep yourselves here. You won't leave without her, and she won't leave without her father.”

Seven hooded beings surrounded Allison. I watched as one emerged from the shadow, stepping to an altar. The leader chanted and raised his arms, commanding the others in a dark ritual. He opened his hand. The heart fell, dangling on the chain from his finger. My charm, the one meant for Allison, the charm I never had the courage to part with hovered an inch above her heart.

The hooded beings picked Allison off the ground as she struggled to free herself, placing her writhing body in a wooden box lined with straw. Agonizing screams echoed against the walls when the leader grabbed a torch and removed his hood. He looked deep into her eyes but said nothing as he reached down and lit the straw on fire.

“The Reverend.” I whispered.