The Last Customer (30 page)

           
“I think I’ll take it from here. You’re just not that good. I sure hope you had a good time, though. And don’t worry, you’ll only get better,” he said, crooning his neck toward the cornfield. The surface plain of existence opened and the corn parted. The long stalks looked like they had been stretched into an oval of black. A white haze flowed forward and the flames of searing hell opened up. The heat blasted into the world as it beckoned Jezebeth.

           
She was a swarm of ash. Each particle of her being began to blacken into flakes of charred matter. The flakes broke off and sifted through the air into the opening in the cornfield. Rage filled her heart. Sorrow glazed her thoughts. She didn’t want to go. There was no reward for her failure. The Dark Master wouldn’t be pleased and she would be punished. There would be ridicule and laughter.

           
As if hooks had sunk into her flesh, she was pulled toward the opening. Her charred skin shedding as she went. Her voice lowered to a growl and she began to hiss. She tried to resist, but there was nothing to grab onto. She was unable to stop. She was dragged forward. She appeared child-like—being dragged to the dentist’s office. Not wanting to go, but knowing there was no other option.

           
She turned, once, to watch as Sammael smiled. He waved while laughing in his sinister way. The flames engulfed her and then she erupted into a fiery cluster. She was gone. The porthole was closed and the corn peeled back into place as though it had never been touched. Everything was silent.

3

Sammael stared at the cornfield for a long moment. He knew that the Unholy One demanded the slaughter of these people—of Gardner. He wouldn’t let him down. He couldn’t.

Sammael turned toward the farmhouse. His arms fell to the side and his hands bunched into fists while his shoulders shrugged. He watched the house. He sized it up like a boxer studying his opponent while looking for the perfect weakness, the right spot to strike. Stepping forward, Sammael vowed that the games were over. There was no more time to play. He could feel the Unholy One’s anxiousness. It wasn’t wise to disappoint the Unholy One. The torment would be infinite. He didn’t have much time to destroy Gardner and he certainly wouldn’t be able to possess Donna anymore. That would take too much time. Killing them would suffice.

He could taste Gardner’s blood
.

           
He walked to the front of the house, looked up to the attic window. He knew
they
had gathered up there. He could feel it.
They
were probably watching him too. He smiled up at the window as he visualized the attic. He painted a picture of what it would look like when he finished ripping them to pieces. He imagined blood covering every inch of the room. He would litter the floor with rolling heads and shredded body parts while he would dance in their innards. In the middle of the room, he imagined himself standing before his masterpiece. He would bathe in their blood.

Chapter 27

1

Donna stood near the attic window. Although she was tired, she stood alert. She trembled at the sight of Sammael as she watched him walk across the lawn, staring up into the window, wearing a maniacal grin. His glare held awful intent. His eyes gleamed like white globes. It seemed like he was staring into the dark future and enjoying what he saw. He was going to attack, soon. The time had come. She stepped back from the window. The sound of hammering feet thundered across the hardwood floor and continued up the staircase. Her attention drifted toward the small door in the attic. She shifted her gaze toward her husband. He calmly opened the hatch. There was no immediate danger.

           
“It’s Winny,” Cherri announced.

           
Cherri stepped forward, excitedly. She looked anxiously from Donna to Gardner and asked, “Are you sure?”

           
Gardner nodded slowly. “I saw it. He’s seen the darkness and escaped it. He will fight with us.”

           
Winny’s head peered into the attic.

           
“It’s me. I swear it’s really me. Sammael is coming.”

           
Gardner helped Winny up the stairs. He leapt up from the hatch and then closed the retractable staircase. A cloud of dust powdered Winny’s face when the hatch slammed shut. Donna watched as Winny’s eager eyes drifted toward Cherri. Donna could see the relief and comfort on Winny’s face when he laid eyes on Cherri. In turn, Cherri’s smile lifted from her face. Her teeth jutted forward and she leaned forward as if to lunge at him. Within seconds, they were holding each other. Donna was familiar with the emotions they were feeling. It was the comfort that stemmed from longing.
These two had been thinking about each other.
They took refuge in each other’s presence. She’d experienced these feelings many times with her husband. She was glad that Winny and Cherri had found a moment’s joy even though it would not last long.

           
Winny parted from Cherri. He turned his attention to Gardner.

           
“They tried to take me,” Winny explained. “It felt like I was being lit on fire. That’s the best way that I can explain it.”

           
Gardner was unfazed. He’d heard it all before.

           
“The battle is going to unfold. We’re either going to concur the demon, or we’ll fall prey to it,” Gardner said. He looked straight into Donna’s eyes. He looked as though he were looking for the right words to describe what needed to be said. Everyone’s blood curdled when he spoke. The time was now and they would fight and be triumphant. Or they would die, horribly.

Everyone was silent, terrified.

2

Gardner’s lips moved, but nothing came out. He didn’t know how to say what he needed to say. Normally, he was good with words, but not now. He didn’t know how to tell everyone that this was
it
—that their lives depended on what would happen in the next few moments.

Minutes earlier, Gardner was given a vision. The vision had been dark and he’d seen the future battle from a distance. It was uncertain and hazy. The vision concluded with a dark cloud over his house. What he’d seen was vague, but it left him mortified. He heard the screams of the innocent. But the demon would not win this battle. This he knew. That should have been reassuring, but it wasn’t. The demon would lose, but it would take something from this group, something dear. Sadness washed over Gardner as he realized that the loss would be great. Greater than it had already been. He thought about the loss of Garth and how heart wrenching it had been. Worse yet, Gardner’s despair would dig much deeper before the end of this awful night. The possession of Garth was terrible, but it was just the beginning, and for a moment, he’d accepted that Garth was dead. At least his human self even though Garth could still be alive, but he doubted it. Sammael would destroy Garth from the inside out.

Gardner snapped back to his reality. His vision had been hazy—as to what would be lost—but he knew that more carnage was ahead.

           
He had to warn the group of what was in store.

“This battle that we are about to fight. I believe that we will succeed…but at the price of a great travesty. I haven’t been given a clear vision as to what the outcome will be—in its entirety. I know the conclusion, how this night will end. Everything that is going to happen has already been written. First of all…” Gardner looked directly at Winny. “You
must
fight the demon…and win at any cost. No matter what shape it comes in. Do you know what that means, Winny?”

           
Winny’s eyebrows sprung upward. His eyes moistened. A crazed excitement illuminated his face. “When I escaped from the first demon, I walked out of the garage and saw Sammael. I became so angry that I wasn’t afraid anymore. It didn’t matter what the demon did because I wouldn’t give in to him. I told him to leave my brother alone…and for a minute Garth came back and he begged me to help him. I have faith that it was him.”

           
Gardner believed what Winny was saying. It was the truth and he also believed that Winny was capable of fighting the demon. His fight might be enough to bring Garth out of the hell he was captured in. If Winny had faith, and believed in it, then it could happen. Only pure goodness could bring out the living, and Gardner felt—for the first time—that there was a chance for Garth.

           
“Do you believe that we can save him?” Gardner asked.

           
Bobbing his head successively, Winny answered, “Yes. I
know
that we can. I believe it.”

           
“Then we will,”
Gardner
returned. “But be prepared for the attack upon us…”

           
He wanted to say more, but suddenly the hatch in the floor sprung forward. It crashed into the floor, hard. The wood square broke into pieces. The hinges spat across the attic and the tiny splinters of wood created a cloud. A snake shot forward from the hole in the attic floor. One of the demon’s snakes slithered into the attic like an attacking cobra. It retracted its hooks. Quickly, it shot behind Donna. She didn’t have time to react. She didn’t even see it. It coiled around Donna’s neck and tugged her backward. Sammael emerged from the hatch. He stood, digging his razor sharp daggers into Donna’s soft flesh, tearing her neck open. Her eyes shot toward Gardner.

Gardner stood, horrified, silent, as if the world had slowed to a crawl, while Donna’s throat was torn open. Her eyes turned black. Blood gushed to the floor in a massive splash and soaked the wood planks. Her skin turned ashen. Gardner wanted to scream, but he could only stare. He watched Donna’s eyes as her life left her.

           
Cherri screamed and ran to Donna. She tried to rip the snake from Donna’s neck, but it recoiled. Cherri tried to cover Donna’s wound. She pressed her hands against Donna’s gash. The blood pumped between Cherri’s fingers. She couldn’t stop the bleeding. Donna was dead within seconds.

Gardner cried out.

He was angry with God.

3

Sammael’s snakelike arm coiled around Donna’s body. After it ripped her neck open, it tossed her down from the attic. It launched her into the hallway while Cherri attempted to help her.

Donna’s lifeless body smacked the hallway floor. A heavy thud sounded, as her head slammed against the hallway wall. Her throat continued to bleed. Her eyes remained open. She stared, lifelessly, down the hall. The demon’s satisfaction was accentuated. Its eyes gleamed white. He rejoiced with sinister pleasure. He’d been allowed to kill her. He’d wanted this for years. His pleasure was heightened. He felt like a king. He was granted his kill. He hadn’t been sure if the Unholy One was going to allow it. Earlier, he’d been denied. There were restrictions on what he could and could not do. It wasn’t up to him. Sometimes he was only able to encourage his victims. His encouragement would lead to self-destruction. He’d aided in many deaths and evil deeds. With a simple whisper, he would plant a seed. To a weak person—someone with no faith—a whisper would suffice. In the end, the demon’s whisper would destroy them, somehow. His whispers could show a man that his wife was cheating, when in fact she was not. The whisper encouraged the thought and the thought encouraged the action. Sammael was a master of deception. He would watch his planted seeds bloom into despair. His victims would take their own lives or cause another person to kill for them. Sammael was good at his job. On many occasions, he’d been able to make men perform the atrocious, and on many other occasions, he’d been able to let men destroy the lives of others, before taking their own life. Sammael enjoyed his dark works—
his whispers.

           
Now, standing in the hallway, he relished at the sight of the dead woman, Donna, as she bled all over the floor. Sammael felt the lips of Garth’s mouth stretch into a gleeful smile. He could feel Gardner’s rage building. He was still in the attic. There was no way Gardner could resist vengeance. Sammael placed Gardner in a weakened state. Gardner would self-destruct and there was nothing that could make Sammael
feel
more content.

To Sammael, it would be ultimately satisfying to watch Gardner take his own life.

If Gardner died by his own hand, Sammael would dance over his corpse. He’d savor the body while it rotted.

Gardner’s soul would burn.

4

Winny stood at the edge of the hatch in the attic, shocked. Donna’s demise had taken him by surprise. He couldn’t believe it. He faced away, unable to look at what was happening to her. Agony stung. It felt like sharp needles dancing across the lining of his stomach. As best he could, he shook off the atrocity. They needed their heads in the fight. Later, there would be time for grief and mourning, and they didn’t know if Gardner was out of commission. It was unimaginable to think about what was running through Gardner’s mind. Winny stepped away from the hatch. Sammael could easily grab him from where he stood and he didn’t want to die, definitely not at the hands of Sammael. He didn’t want Gardner to slip into the hallway. It would be the end of him. This is what Gardner had told them about earlier, the demon had gotten to him. It owned him. Judging by the mad expression on Gardner’s face, Winny knew what Gardner intended to do. Sure, he was going to fight. They wouldn’t be able to stop him. His anger had gotten the best of him. But the fight would be useless. If he were to fight in the name of rage it would kill him. Gardner would defeat himself if he fought with no logic or reason. Winny was easily able to understand that, in this moment, Gardner only knew vengeance. He would go into this fight with Sammael with or without the power of good. If he fought wild, he would be destroyed. Winny knew this in his heart.