Mischiefmakers: Dark Macabre (21 page)

ather Johns approaches the house through the drenching
rain and hailing winds, grasping his torn Bible tightly. He
peers into the clouds, watching the lightning rip through the

Exposing himself beyond the cover of thick bushes, he views
an unnatural sight. The shadow-hidden home is trimmed with a
hoard of black ravens perched silently at every corner of the roof
and porch. Some wiggle their heads, others flap their wings, but
most stand dangerously still.

The rain and lightning seem to hover, concentrating their
energy. Like an enormous antennae, the house seems to draw
energy from the violent storm.

“The beast is here, my Heavenly Father,” Father Johns says qui
-
etly under his breath. “And they know I am here as well.”
He continues toward the house and watches the devilish crea-
tures’ eyes begin to glow that witchy green. The house, blanketed
by shadow, is an unearthly scene. Pairs of illuminating eyes peer
downward at the approaching priest. Step by step, Father Johns
walks carefully onto the rain-soaked porch. He gazes left to right,
watching the birds.
The door suddenly squeals open with an echo as if it is a grand
entrance to a vast empty hall. Slowly he removes his coat and
drops it to the porch floor. From his pocket, he pulls his golden
pendant and places it around his neck.
Father Johns is startled as two of the ravens fly away imme-
diately after seeing the pendant. He pulls his small wire-framed
glasses out of his pocket and places them on his face.
Wiping excess water from his arms, Father Johns enters the
freezing house, stepping cautiously into the darkness. The door
slams.
Father Johns reaches down and grasps his holy pendant tightly.
Peering into the darkness, he shouts.
“Melissa! Don’t listen to them! They are liars, they don’t love
you! You must block your hate. That is what the demon child
feeds on!” The priest’s voice carries into a resounding vibrant
echo. “Melissa, can you hear me?”
Melissa, still within her black nightmare, hears a whisper of
the priest’s voice. Her face covered with blood, her eyes black
as soot, she licks the black dagger that drips thick blood from
a fresh kill. The demon child stands behind her quietly with an
expression of pure pleasure; its icy blue eyes illuminate to their
witchy green.
“It has commenced,” says the little demon.
The house rumbles, and Father Johns falls to the floor, his
Bible falling from his hands. The Bible is attacked by a vortex of
wind that begins tearing at the pages, ripping them to shreds. As
the pieces of paper debris fling through the air, Father Johns’ face
is sliced with dozens of paper cuts. His glasses are ripped from his
face, and his Bible is torn into pieces.
Without warning, a bright, phosphorescent green globe dances
around the frightened priest as he rises to his feet.
“Melissa! Don’t let Sarah’s death be in vain, Melissa!” he coughs.
“I know you can hear me, Melissa!” Suddenly a massive voice
emanates from another room.
“I don’t know if she can hear you, preacher, but I can.” The
colossal beast enters the room, its eyes glowing brightly.
“Who are you?” asks Father Johns in a low voice.

“I am Harry, Mr. Nicholas, I am the winged nightmare that
watches your every move. I am the beast that sliced your precious
Sarah into ribbons. Any other questions, preacher?”

“Where is Melissa?”
“Fulfilling her destiny!”
“This is not her destiny, beast!”
The gigantic demon races toward Father Johns. Its feet slash

across the floor. The thick plush carpet silences its approach, and
for a moment, Father Johns is certain he’s gone deaf. Its mouth
gapes wide, showing its glowing razor-sharp teeth, dripping thick
saliva.

Father Johns crouches to the ground, gripping his pendant
with all his strength. He slaps away the green scum. As if in slow
motion, he can see the monstrous shadow, rising up over him,
climbing higher and higher, its massive legs driving it closer with
each step. His heart pounds at an unbelievable rate and strength.
He feels the hot breath of the beast upon him. The ground under-
neath him rumbles and shudders. Closer, the beast approaches
with the sound of a rhinoceros gone mad.

With one last gaze upward, Father Johns sees the shadow of the
immense claws reaching for his throat. Suddenly his golden pendant spreads a blinding golden beam of light that strikes the beast
in the eyes. The bouncing green orb explodes into thousands of
glistening particles.

The front door of the house bursts open. The beast is knocked
backward, slamming into the wall. It screams in anger. The whole
room shakes. Father Johns stares out the open door, while block-
ing the debris from his eyes. A huge flock of white doves rushes
into the house, closely followed by a hoard of black ravens.

Father Johns is awestruck. The shadow of the birds soars over
him, blotting out all the light in the room. He ducks down for pro-
tection, peeping out of trembling eyelids to watch the battle.

The battle resumes. The beast is voraciously attacked, as some
of the doves wet themselves with its blood and flesh. The others
quickly turn to battle the hoard of giant ravens. Bodies of ravens
and doves are set aflame during combat.

Father Johns watches as thedoves rip thebeastapart. Heremem
-
bers a passage from a book that foretold this event. Set aflame the
wings of angels as their bodies fall from the clouds. His eyes flood
with tears, so many that he’s unable to close them. Suddenly he
hears a voice calling to him from the second floor, “Father, please
come, help me, Father.” This light voice resounds over all the noise
of the ensuing battle. Fire and ash are everywhere.

Father Johns gathers himself and slowly walks up the stairs.
Wiping his face and smearing the blood from his wounds, he
stares into the darkness.

“Melissa! The beast is a liar, its child is a liar!” The priest’s words
fall on deaf ears. There is no response. As Father Johns turns up
the stairway, he sees a bright light glowing from under the door
leading to the attic.

“Father, please come, help me, Father.” The voice cries out
once more. Father Johns approaches the door and, slowly lift-
ing his bleeding hand, opens it. Shielding his eyes, he climbs the
wooden stairway leading into the attic. A harsh wind and blowing
debris cause Father Johns to grip the wooden banister to maintain
balance. Looking beyond his hand, he spots Melissa standing in
front of an enormous circle of spiraling clouds. Her nightgown is
soaked with blood, eyes pitch black, face expressionless. Her black
hair dangles lifelessly, soaked with perspiration. She stands holding the long, sleek crimson-tainted black dagger.

“I’m glad you were able to join us, preacher!” says the demon
within Melissa.
“It’s not too late, Melissa. We can stop this!” Father Johns
screams, attempting to shout above the whistling winds emanating
from the cloud tunnel. “You blame God for all that has happened
to you! You blame God for what all the men and women repre-
senting Him have done to you! Whoever it is, Melissa, they will
pay for their sins, just like all others. It is not too late, Melissa, let
your hate go!”
“It is too late, Father. The prophecy has been fulfilled, I now
own her soul. My guardians are coming, and they cannot be
stopped.” Melissa’s eyes glow that evil green. “Melissa is gone, and
soon you shall be, also!”
“What about Sarah, Melissa? She loves you! She died coming to
save you!” Father Johns sees hundreds of distant shadowy demons
marching through the cloud tunnel. “Melissa, you must stop this!”
“Fuck you, preacher! Fuck you! You will die now. I will gather
jarfuls of your blood and drink from it each day until there is no
more, starting now.” The demon within Melissa suddenly hurls the
black dagger at Father Johns. A white halo of light appears over
him, and the knife stops in mid-air, directly in front of his throat,
just barely scraping his skin. A glowing hand reaches around
Father Johns, caresses the dagger, then grasps it, crumbling it to
dust.
Father Johns looks back at the ghostly, featureless being.
The demon within Melissa conjures another dagger that
appears within Melissa’s grasp. Her eyes begin to fight the witchy
green glow as she struggles with the demon within her. She grasps
her hair in unspeakable pain with one hand. Still holding the knife
tightly in the other hand, she swings it violently.
“Sarah! Help me, Sarah!” Melissa screams as she stands there
with her gown filthy with blood.
“Melissa, you must fight your anger, your hate. The beast is
using it against you. Think of those who loved you, remember
your family.” As Father Johns yells, Melissa’s mind fills with child-
hood memories of her and her sisters at the park. As they pass ice
cream between each other, their laughter breaks Melissa’s anger.
“What about Sarah, Melissa? She has always loved you. She said
you two were like sisters. Don’t let the beast take over your heart.
You screamed her name, now remember her.” Melissa’s mind
flows with thoughts of Sarah and the great times they shared.
Events flash through her mind from the time they first met to
their first night at the apartment.
“Fuck you, fuck you! It is too late, she belongs to me now, she
has fulfilled her destiny! She will marry my father, Succubus!”
Melissa’s eyes glow once more. The whirling winds increase in
strength as the shadowy figures come even closer.
Father Johns looks back at the ghostly figure and speaks ner-
vously.
“Sarah? I...I have to stop them before they walk into our world,
I must go now.”
Melissa stands in a defensive stance as if she will attack at
any moment. Father Johns darts toward the swirling cloud gate-
way, grasping his golden pendant, which continues to glow. Its
brightness is so intense that the demon within Melissa shields
her eyes.
“No! What are you doing?” the demon within Melissa screams
before it hurls the second dagger, striking Father Johns through
the shoulder. The pain causes Father Johns to crumble. As he
falls to the floor, he smashes his head on the wall. His eyesight
explodes into a million throbbing stars.
Melissa’s demon sees Father Johns is dazed. It conjures another
dagger and races toward him. “I will tear you apart!” she promises. She releases a hideous scream. Swiftly the ghostly angel stops
Melissa and embraces her.
“Let go of me! Get off me! You can’t do this. We will be back.
You cannot stop us, we will always be here. We will kill everything
and rule beside our king!”
The demon within Melissa screams and shrieks in agony as she
turns and stabs repeatedly into the light. “Let me go!”

Only a Messenger of God with an icon of his faith who is pure in life and
in spirit may destroy the beast. Our salvation is our responsibility. We now
find ourselves in a world of ignorance and sin. A world easily infiltrated by
evil.

Vincent, I am that messenger, my holy water will be my icon. I will fight
the beast until either he, I, or both are dead. I must stop the lost souls of
Asylum.

If the black rain does not cease by this evening, I have failed. You have
only one more moon. You must find an icon of your faith and follow my
steps. If I am successful, the rain will stop. If I do not return, I am with my
God.

Vincent reaches within his robe and from a silver chain, pulls a
bright, silver crucifix that hangs proudly around his neck. Turning
it on its backside he reads,

Vincent,
God will always love you.
Mom.

“I have my icon of faith, Father, I am ready.” Holding his
brightly polished crucifix tightly, young Vincent Richards stands
quiet and listens to the storm rage on.

ather Johns glares through the hurling winds as he struggles
to lift himself. He sees the demons coming dangerously close
to the end of the tunnel. He is startled by a high-pitched

scream.
“Sarah!” Melissa screams, while still in the grasp of the spirit.
“Help me, Sarah!” Melissa battles the demon within her once
more. “I can’t fight it, Sarah.”