THE SECOND SIGHT
Chapter 48
THE PARISH PRISON
I was lost in thought too.
That tingling in me was growing stronger now.
I didn’t try to make too much of what I had heard about the life of Samantha Gaisie.
It had been revealed to me in the strongest terms what had happened.
Steve Poku had been possessed by one of those demonic fiends which had for-ced him to go to the wedding.
It had for-ced the poor man to kill himself, and then it had invaded the bride.
The rest was history.
No one told me, but I knew!
It was just like the tingling in my bones, the strange power that had made me deal ruthlessly with the tall thief, and the unrelenting for-ce that had led me to identify Guy Grant and get the story out of him.
Somehow, the life of an Unblind was coming effortlessly to me now.
God was definitely using me.
And at that time, I didn’t know whether to be happy…or sad.
My anger sizzled.
How could it do that to the innocent lady? Straight from her wedding day she had now become a monster, locked away from society, capable of wreaking only the most hideous acts on humanity.
My relief that I still had the gift of the Second Sight was mixed with my great fear that I was very inexperienced and could very easily fumble it and make matters worse for the woman.
It would have been better to go Portville and gotten more insight into the whole thing before trying to confront that thing in Samantha Gaisie; after all, as the cliché went, she was going nowhere.
But there was nothing I could do; that urge, that overdriving power, was there, pushing me on, raring to go and looking for some fast action.
Somehow that evil being had been aware of my presence, and had left its host long enough to check me out and find out my potential threat.
I knew without a doubt that if it had found me as weak as any of the exorcists it had met so far, it would have torn me to shreds.
But it had seen me approaching…and had fled.
That in itself gave me a great psychological power.
That demon was now aware that I was coming, and no doubt it had prepared itself, but I knew that slight advantage still remained.
Soon we began to see lights, and Guy eased off on the accelerator. We pas-sed a series of adobe houses. The land had flattened out somehow, but the car still climbed.
The parish was standing all alone.
It was a great concrete building with a tall tower. Eight foot walls completely surrounded it. Even before the hu-ge gates creaked open we were aware of the great commotion going on.
The grounds itself was a most lovely garden.
Exotic flowers, green gras-s and sweet-smelling plants had been grown all around. Robed nuns were milling around, moving from place to place, gesticulating wildly.
When the car came to a stop I felt that overwhelming tingling again, and my whole br@in was filled, as if something was trying to get in there, probing my br@in cells violently, seeking to drive me crazy.
I leaned forward, the pain unbearable, gasping for breath, sudden sweat pouring off my face as the pain increa-sed relentlessly.
BOAT
(angrily, harshly)
Get the fuc-k out of my head, demon!
Immediately the painful probing was gone, preceded by a faint wail that I seemed to hear way down in my head.
Guy was already out, and a group of nuns had come out to meet him, chattering excitedly. I joined them slowly.
BOAT
(voice strained)
What’s happening, Guy?
Tears glittered on Grant’s cheeks as he turned a tortured face toward me.
GUY GRANT
(choking with tears)
Sam has become worse! It began late this afternoon, and intensified as the hours wore on. She’s been screaming and hurling herself at the door all night, behaving extremely violently.
From around the corner of the building two priests appeared, evidently very alarmed.
They were tall and thin, almost gaunt. One was wearing the tiniest pair of glas-ses I had ever seen, perched precariously on his long, hooked nose. His sparse hair was still dominated with black, unlike the other man whose hair was steel grey.
DARK-HAIRED PRIEST
You shouldn’t be here tonight, Mr. Grant! The young lady is extremely fired up tonight! We’re afraid she could do herself much harm! We laced her food this evening with sedatives so that we could go in and inject her, but she didn’t eat it.
About four of five priests burst into view again and joined our group.
Guy turned to me and shook his head sadly.
GUY GRANT
(broken, haggard)
Let’s leave, Mr. Boat. I don’t think we can see her tonight.
BOAT
(harshly)
Take me to her! Now!
Hostile eyes were suddenly fixed on me; the priests didn’t like me much.
BESPECTACLED PRIEST
(in a cold frosted voice)
“And who might you be, sir? Whoever you are, you better get out of here. What we’re dealing with isn’t for mere men.
BOAT
(coldly)
And what makes you think you’re more man than I am?
I heard the collective intake of breaths around me.
GUY GRANT
(anxiously)
Yaw, please –
I pushed my way past the throng of bodies.
Whatever was in me was like a magnet drawing me forwards much against my will.
A SHORT PRIEST
(angrily)
Hey, you can’t do this!
He reached out to hold my hand. He was short and squat, and obviously had a short fuse.
I fixed my eyes on him, and what he saw might have scared him because he let me go and stepped backward.
BOAT
(grimly)
Nobody should try and stop me! Take me to her. And if her door is locked you better get the key!
GUY GRANT
(confused)
Yaw, this is Father Sebastian and Father Dominic. They’re in charge. I think it is best to listen to them.
BOAT
(angry, shouting)
Goddamn it! Take me to her!
I never knew whether it was the fury in my voice or a respect for my determination, but they parted for me, and some even followed me as Grant led the way.
Just around the right wall of the parish were a series of stone stairs leading downward. It leveled off pretty soon, and suddenly I found myself walking on some sort of a hanging bridge. It was made of solid planks of wood tied together with twine.
Interwoven twines formed a five-foot protective rail on the sides. The only illumination came from torch lights which the priests held. I wondered how steep the drop was. Would it be into a rocky valley or some dark waters?
No time.
I was in a hurry, and the priests were moving too slowly and casually for my liking. The bridge swayed alarmingly as we trooped unto it, but the evident lack of concern from my companions told me, at least, that it was sturdy.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, we landed on firm ground again, and almost immediately I was confronted by the stone building in front of me.
Also read – The Second Sight – Episode 13
It was a crude square structure, standing there all alone, imposing and yet so vulnerable. It had no electricity, but I could see its square windows emitting a soft insufficient glow, evidently from lanterns.
Guy spoke then at my elbow, obviously in an effort to explain the grim nature of her cell.
GUY GRANT
(soberly)
She always hated the lights. She’s in a soundproofed room inside.
I could feel the evil for-ce all around me now.
It was potent, puffed-up and ready for a br@wl.
For a brief moment my heart faltered, and real panic threatened to as-sail me.
It all looked so imposing and foreboding. Suddenly my heart wanted to get out of there and never stop moving until I was clear of the place.
________________________
A GROWL OF WARNING
But that de-ep strange power held me firm.
Somewhere in my br@in a voice cried out, asking how I could face The Legion of demons again if a single demon was now spooking me so badly.
BOAT
(softly)
Open the door!
Father Sebastian spoke, and I could hear the terror in his high-pitched voice.
FATHER SEBASTIAN
(horrified)
No, sir, you can’t do that! Not when she’s in that mood. No! Sweet Jesus, what are you planning to do? Exorcise a demon with your ba-re hands?
I turned and fixed him with a stare.
BOAT
Open it.
The priests turned to Guy Grant with severe and scared eyes.
FATHER SEBASTIAN
(horrified)
Mr. Grant, this is a bad night. I don’t know what you think you’re up to, but this thing here nee-ds experts! If you go ahead with this the circu-mstances could be very disastrous, believe me.
For a moment Grant hesitated.
His tortured eyes searched my face, seeking answers which I was sure weren’t there. If anything went bad I knew he would never be able to forgive himself. He ru-bbed a hand across his face, and then he nodded slightly.
GUY GRANT
(in a hollow voice)
Open the door for him, Father. Let him go, and may God be with him.
I shivered.
He was already speaking of me as if I wasn’t with them, as if I were dead.
Father Dominic stepped forward, mounted the stone steps and began to fumble with a bunch of keys. Soon after the heavy doors creaked open.
The doorway was inadequately lighted by lantern light.
I swallowed painfully as I mounted the steps. The priest held out a hu-ge key on a large circular key holder to me.
He spoke without looking at me.
FATHER DOMINIC
(fearfully)
That opens her cell, which is at the end of the corridor. The other rooms are…private. I beg of you, don’t open that cell.
He crossed himself quickly and descended the stairs.
Evidently, none of them was going in with me.
Clutching the key ti-ghtly, I took a de-ep breath and entered.
The first thing that hit me was the stench.
It was the horrible scent of decay, of sewers.
Heavy stench-removing chemicals – formaldehydes, maybe – had obviously been applied, but they failed woefully to stem that terrible smell.
It was a wide corridor with doors on each side. The floor was lined with a synthetic carpet of some sorts, threadba-re at many places.
All the doors on each side of the corridor were closed, and I saw that faint light filtered in from un-der the one on my immediate left. I had been right about the light; lanterns hung from pegs staked into the walls.
Up ahead was the end of the corridor…and the cell.
I could feel the sinister presence all around me…breathing, alive, waiting!
I was reminded of those muscle-bound wrestlers on WWF, where one would be waiting patiently in the ring, all puffed up, waiting for a challenger to emerge from the dressing room.
I had never liked wrestling simply because I had never known for sure whether the matches were for real or pre-fixed, you know, like some sort of clowning. I hated to see them pretending to hammer somebody’s head only to hold back the full effects of the punches at the point of impact.
But I knew what faced me was the real deal.
No punches would be held back. Death would be the decider, and all of a sudden I felt so alone, so exp-osed, so inadequate…
Sweet Jesus, what are you planning to do? Exorcise a demon with your ba-re hands?
One of the priests had said; I had already forgotten which one.
I could see the heavy metal door at the end of the corridor.
It had a little square space with bars near its top. A kind of glow light was in there, an unnatural sort of light, a kind of yellow glow.
Yellow glow, yellow glow, Death’s banner!
Where the hell had that come from?
Concentrate!
I tried to empty my mind, but the nightmare of my father’s skull exploding on the ceiling just wouldn’t let me go. I took a de-ep shuddering breath, and stepped forward.
And then it came…a low growl!
The sort of growl a mad rabid dog might make in its heated throat; a growl that seemed to be coming out of the walls. A beastly growl…death’s banner!
I took another step forward, and suddenly something hurled itself against the cell door ha-rd…again and again.
I quickened my steps, and then the horrible shriek rent the air, causing me to stop dead in my tracks.
I knew, in my fuddled br@in, that no human or beast could have made that sound. This was a sound from something from somewhere.
A death sound, a violent ancient species ready for battle, determined to keep what it had. I began to think about Dolly Parton; big-titted sweet sister singing about love being like a bu-tterfly.
I had never really un-derstood that song, but apart from the sweet voice I had always dreamt about burying my head in those
mamalodies , as my deceased friend, Bob, used to say.
I checked my thoughts. How could I think about br£-$ts, country music and bu-tterflies when there was that thing ahead of me?
I was supposed to have clean pure thoughts. I was supposed to be thinking about how good and clean God was, how He abhors sin and maybe I should have doused myself in Holy Water or some anointed oils…
But just hold on a sec!
The thing in there was waiting, and the thing in me was moving.
I moved forward, and the growl came again.
A low growl that could’ve been made by a thousand saber-toothed tigers and resonated around the walls and tried its best to burst my eardrums. It set my teeth on edge and made my legs falter, but whatever was inside me couldn’t be stilled.
When I was about seven paces from that steel door everything went quiet.
No sound.
It was a silence that was so loud that it made me prefer the ominous sounds from the thing in there. I could feel it breathing, all pumped-up, ready to unleash the next high-tech generation of evil.
The bras-s key felt hot and in my clammy palm, and I ti-ghtened my hold on it. It was my only link to the physical world now, and it helped to keep my sanity.
de-ep down I admitted to myself that I had lost control over the situation, and that I was only moving like a puppet, controlled by for-ces beyond my control.5
I had transcended and moved between worlds, leaving a safe haven behind and being catapulted into an insane sphere of living where you could get your skull crushed against a concrete ceiling in the split of a second.
TBc…