The Heir to Darkness Part 3 (standard:horror, 6399 words) [3/4] show all parts
Author: J. F. Naples	Added: Jun 10 2002	Views/Reads: 2789/1983	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Jason's pact

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

in late; five minutes, ten minutes, and that person would be called 
into Mathew's office.  At first, the normal office sounds of tapping 
keys, monotonous drones of conversation, and ringing telephones was all 
that was heard. 

Then, from across the office, behind Mathew's closed door, words would
begin to seep out.  After a few more minutes, the words would be clear 
as if he were in the same room as the rest of us.  The door would then 
open, and the person who received the colorful lecture would walk out 
with their tail between their legs, so to say, and either slunk back to 
their cubicle, or out of the office as a result of being fired. 

I wasn't worried about being fired, but I also didn't want to wake the
wrath that I was lucky to avoid for those so many years. 

Mathew walked into his office and I followed in behind. 

“Close the door, would you please?”, he said with a cool demeanor.  I
did as I was told.  When the door was closed, it felt as if the 
temperature in the room had dropped twenty degrees. 

“Have a seat,” Mathew offered, gesturing to the chair that sat empty
before his desk.  Again, I did as I was told.  He sat behind his desk, 
steepling his fingers underneath his chin. 

“Is this how he starts out with everyone that he fires?”, I thought. 

“You know why I gave you the Veronica story, don't you?” 

“Here it comes,” I thought defensively, priming myself for the
onslaught.  Tentatively I shook my head. 

Bringing his hands from his face, Mathew opened his desk drawer and
pulled out a manila folder, slapping it in the middle of his cluttered 
desktop. 

“You start with nothing, and you come up with this,” he continued,
tapping the folder. 

I didn't know where he was going with this.  He still didn't give
indication whether or not he was angry or if it was something else. 

“I can explain,” I said, trying to think up something real quick, but
the talent for excuse invention was not there. 

“I hope you can.” 

My mind was still completely blank.  I couldn't even remember my name. 

“I thought that I told you Saturday that you didn't need to come in the
office this week.” 

I didn't know what to say. 

“I thought that it was a nice gesture for you to work from the privacy
and quiet of your own home, to keep from the distractions that are here 
in the office.  I even forked out the money so that your wife and kids 
could visit her mother for the week.” 

This was becoming all too much.  Until then, I didn't give it one
thought of why Helena and the kids were not home. 

“I just finished reading your notes and draft.  HEAVY stuff.  With just
a name and address, where did you come up with all this?”, tapping on 
the envelope again. 

I felt as it the world had been taken off my shoulders now,  I smiled. 
My mind was becoming clear again and I could now think more freely, 
even if I had to make up an excuse. 

“Just called in a few favors, is all.” 

Mathew got up from behind his desk and walked over to me.  I saw the
envelope teasingly close to me on the desk.  How I wanted to know what 
was inside. 

“Well, I hope that I didn't waste money on those tickets to give you
some freedom,” he said.  “If the finished product is nearly as good 
from what I have read from your draft...”  Mathew slapped me on the 
shoulder.  I looked up, still smiling. 

“Well, I just came in to grab a couple things from my desk.  I promise I
won't be here long.”  I got up, and we were facing one another. 

“There was another thing that I wanted to talk to you about.”  Mathew's
smile had left.  I began to tense up one again. 

“What is it?”, I asked, still not feeling ready for a confrontation of
any sort. 

When he told me about how he knew of all the offers I have been
receiving, the tenseness went away and I smiled once more.  He was 
worried that I was going to leave, but I reassured him that there was 
no worry about me going anywhere.  I liked where I was, and there 
wasn't really anything more that I wanted than what I had here.  Mathew 
looked much relieved when I told him this, and he slapped me on my 
back, sending me on my way. 

“You know Jason, you could have just called in and told us what you
needed.  We could have sent somebody to your house rather than you 
spending anymore time here than necessary.  Even at this moment, I am 
looking at a couple applicants for office assistance.” 

“It's quite all right,” I replied.  “Needed the fresh air anyway.” 

“Understandable,” Mathew said, slapping me on my back again.  “But I
would like it if you take advantage of the solitude of your home.  I am 
really eager to know how you write this story up.” 

I looked back into the office and I saw that envelope.  I wanted it
badly, but I knew that I couldn't ask for it without being asked 
questions for answers I had none.  Turning around, I told Mathew he 
wouldn't see my face unless he stopped by my home and proceeded to my 
cubicle. 

I had gotten to my desk and was somewhat shocked to find that it wasn't
as tidy as I usually keep it.  There were piles of papers covering the 
whole desktop, papers sticking out of the drawers; not in the neat and 
organized method of which I normally keep my belongings. 

I sat in my chair at the head of the piles and began to leaf through the
mishmash of papers, unarranged upon my desk and found that the majority 
of the papers consisted of photocopies of a variety of subjects.  Most 
of the copies I quickly glanced over.  I hadn't a clue of what the 
subject matter had been, but I started coming across words like 
possessions, rituals, out of body experiences, voodoo and worshipping. 

I knew that those papers had something to do with the story that I was
researching, the one that sat in rough draft on Mathew's desk, but I 
hadn't any idea what it all meant.  I tried once more to consult with 
my lost memories, but just as before, Friday night was all I could 
recollect.  I could remember the alleyway, the way that the people 
looked in the direction of Veronica and myself as we passed, a door 
that seemed out of place. 

A dark room, maybe blue. 

I wasn't sure at the time, but I thought that these papers might help me
remember more of what had hidden deep in my subconscious. Just as 
before, I felt as if I was being watched.  I looked about the office, 
and found that there was no one watching me, or paying any type of 
attention. So instead of reading the notes and many copies that were 
piled on my desk under the supervision of many, I decided that I would 
take those piles and read them at home, in privacy. 

As I straightened out the papers, making them easier to place into my
briefcase which I had left next to my desk in my fugue, I saw something 
for the briefest of moments.  I stopped shuffling the papers and leafed 
through the stack, looking for that something that had caught my 
attention.  It wasn't long until I found it. 

It was a drawing of a demon. 

And underneath the demonic picture was a set of hieroglyphics. 

The creature on the paper looked to have been something of a child's
nightmare, something of a myth.  With its dog like snout, and eyes of a 
cat, the picture seemed to glare up at me.  Its body was very muscular, 
and even through the dense hair, the tone of the beast could readily 
been noticed. 

But its eyes.  Drawn in shades of gray, it seemed as if it was looking
at me, through me.  I felt ice creep up my spine as I continued to 
watch the beast.  I quickly shuffled the papers together, hiding those 
menacing eyes, but I could still feel its glare. 

I looked about the office once more, guiltily, as if I was committing
some sort of crime, but was still unnoticed.  Opening the briefcase, I 
stuffed the papers quickly inside.  Snapped shut the case, and 
proceeded out of the office.  I passed everyone without question, and 
soon I walked into my safe haven. 

As I walked through my door, I closed it quickly and locked it in my
wake.  I went into the kitchen, swiped the coffee-stained newspaper to 
the floor, and set my briefcase onto the nook.  Unlocking the 
briefcase, I emptied it of its contents, and sat before the masses of 
paper. 

The first thing I noticed was the drawing of the demon.  Its eyes were
cast on me, and I felt, again, as if it was seeing me.  I stared upon 
the picture, and after a few moments, I thought that I saw the muscles 
of the creature flex, its chest rise in breathing, eyes blinking.  
Grabbing the sheet and shoving it into my briefcase, I locked it shut, 
and tossed the briefcase into the living room.  It bounced on the 
recliner and fell out of my sight. 

For a few moments, I stared in the direction that I threw the briefcase,
waiting for the recliner to make room so that the beast that was held 
within its confines wouldn't be cramped as it transformed into a real 
entity.  But as the time passed, and it was becoming unlikely that the 
beast was going to transform, I focused my attention towards the papers 
that was scattered upon the nook, figuring where I should start. 

I fanned out the sheets and decided to separate them into like
categories.  When I finished that task, I had eight neat stacks before 
me; my hand-written notes, written in black and red, the photocopies of 
languages that I couldn't comprehend, possessions, out of body 
experiences, seances, voodoo, and witchcraft. 

I had notes on most of the photocopies in some sort of fashion, and had
many highlighted passages.  I went first to the copies that contained 
the foreign language.  There was the familiar hand-script of mine 
written on some of the pages, but the writing that was written was in 
hieroglyphics.  I looked at the passages that were highlighted, but 
unless I was a professor of ancient languages, I wouldn't be able to 
read them.  Setting those sheets down, I decided to go to my own, 
comprehensible, hand-written notes. 

Some of the writing looked as if another person had written, but I knew
that it was I who had written them in a time that I couldn't recall.  
Most of the events that I had written blindly about were basically the 
same as the notes that I had written in the journal that I had started 
for Veronica, but there was a little more detail in these writings.  
There was one section that had caught my attention though.  I was my 
going with Veronica into that alley. 

A second time. 

The date and time noted on the sheet was of that past Saturday night,
one of the days that was gone from my memory.  But now there was these 
notes saying that I did something during that time.  I scanned over the 
pages, and read them the second time through. 

I read the lines slowly, not wanting to miss something that might be
trivial, but essential.  Line by line, I pictured myself following 
Veronica, more so, with Veronica at my side.  We walked through the 
garbage-riddled alleys, passed the many eyes of the vagabonds, and 
together we stopped at that oak door. 

Veronica knocked twice, sharply. 

An eye peered through the peephole in the top center of the door. 

The door opened. 

Veronica and I entered. 

Then nothing. 

My pulse had quickened as I read what I had thus far.  I could actually
picture all the events that led up to me walking through that door, and 
then the subject changed completely: 

I am in my car. 

Veronica's bedroom light goes out. 

I decided to call it a day and go home. 

To my utter disappointment, I tossed the sheets back onto the nook, ran
my fingers through my hair, wanting to rip it all out due to that 
frustration.  If I could have just remembered what it was that lay 
behind that oak door. 

I felt a headache coming, and I decided that I would lay down for a bit.
 I lost my sense of concentration and a little nap might do me good.  
So, forgetting about the notes, the photocopies, the pictures for the 
present, I went into the living room, lay on the couch and closed my 
eyes.  Sleep came quick. 

I dreamt of nothing. 

*	*	*	*	* 

I slowly came about from sleep, and when I opened my eyes, I was in
utter darkness.  I sat up quickly and I could just make out the bottom 
of the moon from the living room window.  I told myself that I could 
not have lost another day, or even a week, and I grabbed the remote and 
hurriedly turned on the television. 

As the television warmed up, I could hear that it was the evening news. 
When images started to move on the screen, I saw that it was the 
weather-woman. 

“Tonight it will be clear and a little bit on the cool side, the low,
fifty-three degrees.  Tuesday morning will be...” 

I felt a little relieved.  It was still Monday, technically, but I still
slept the whole day away.  I didn't think that I did anything more than 
sleep, but with all that was happening to me at that time, I couldn't 
exclude anything. 

I got up shakily from the couch and walked into the kitchen.  I grabbed
my morning coffee that the paper had enjoyed earlier in the day, and 
put it once more into the microwave to warm it up.  As I waited for my 
coffee to heat, I looked at the piles of papers that sat before me on 
the nook. 

There was something I was missing.  There had to be.  It was like the
key that I needed to unlock my missing memories was there in those 
piles of papers, but I just couldn't find it.  The microwave beeped.  I 
grabbed my coffee once more, and sat before the papers again. 

I looked over them, and my attention went to the set of notes that I had
read before taking my longer than wanted nap.  I picked up those sheets 
again and scanned over them.  As I read through them again, II saw 
something that I didn't before.  I thought that I had read them 
thoroughly enough, but I could see how I had missed those words.  It 
appeared as if they were written lightly in pencil in the margin, and 
hastily erased. 

Need to return Monday night. 

That was all that it had said. 

I don't know what it had meant, but I just assumed that I was supposed
to go back to that building on Monday, and the day had come to keep the 
appointment. 

Once again, my coffee untouched, I grabbed my jacket, the car keys and
decided that I had nothing to lose, and anything to gain.  It was a 
lead, and it might of helped me to remember what had happened those 
past couple days. 

*	*	*	*	* 

The weather woman was a little off on her forecast.  Granted, it was
chilly, but there were clouds in the sky, and drizzle had started to 
fall.  When I made it to the alley, the drizzle turned into a soft 
rain. 

I drove to the mouth of the alley.  I debated whether or not to continue
on with my car, but I knew that I wouldn't make it that far.  The 
alleys were too cluttered with debris of many things, and I didn't want 
to get my car trapped in the maze of alleys.  Leaving my car at the 
mouth of the maze, I got out, wrapped my jacket a little tighter around 
me and started through the rain, down into the alley. 

As I passed by all the doors and by all the doors and broken windows, I
saw not one set of eyes peering out.  It gave me comfort the thought 
that I came here unchallenged.  Twenty minutes pass, and I am standing 
on the stoop of the oak door.  I was soaked through with rain and I 
could start to feel the cold seep into my bones.  Now it was just me 
and this door that stood closed before me. 

I contemplated knocking, but without any initiation of my own, my hand
lifted itself, rapping twice on the oak door.  I stood there for almost 
a minute and was about to knock again, of my own accord, but I heard a 
rustling come from the other side of the door, halting my progress of 
the second knocking. 

A short squeak came from the peephole in the center of the door, and a
lone eye peered at me through its relative safety.  I watched the 
examining eye move up and down then settle on my face for a moment.  
The eye moved away from the peephole, and the small slide closed with a 
soft click, then silence. 

At first, I thought that I had made a mistake in going there, but when I
heard the sounds of the tumblers clicking on the other side of the 
door, and a single, soft thump, I knew that I was welcome here.  The 
door swung silently open. 

I stepped through the threshold and it was a very much welcome to step
out of the pouring rain.  I swiped my wet hair from out of my eyes and 
looked out into the vast darkness that lay before me.  Through the 
gloom, I could make out nothing.  With the darkness of night behind me, 
there was no light able to show its way into the room.  I took another 
step into the room, and paused at the top of the short staircase. 

I leaned forward, as if moving closer to the darkness I would be able to
see through it, to try and distinguish anything in the murk.  I looked 
to the right, to the left, but nothing.  The door behind me closed. 

Turning about, I watched the dead bolts turn to the locked position. 
Slowly, the sliding bar hooked itself into its locking latch.  
Normally, I would have been startled at that paranormal sight, but it 
seemed natural for me that the door was doing this all on its own.  For 
not a single person stood behind me.  It was just myself and the door 
that was upon that landing. 

I turned back to the room itself.  It seemed when the door had closed,
the room had become a little brighter.  Not much brighter, but enough 
to show me that I was not the only person in there. 

Before me, I saw that there were about twenty people.  They were all
kneeling, heads bowed as if in prayer.  Their garbs were hooded robes, 
black in color, hoods donned.  Their backs were all to me, which 
brought my attention to where they were showing their reverence. 

On a small stage before the congregation was another person.  Dressed in
the same garment, hood hiding the face of the wearer, hands tucked 
within the sleeves of the robe. 

As I studied this person who stood so unmoving before all, I caught a
glint of something on its chest.  I couldn't make out what it was, but 
I believed that might have been the key that I needed to bring back my 
memories. 

Slowly, I saw the head of the figure rise.  Waiting patiently, the black
void of the hooded robe looked in my direction.  The arms pulled 
themselves out from the sleeves, and its hands rose up to its hood.  
Gradually, the hood was removed and behind the darkness was a face that 
I had known for what seemed an eternity. 

It was Veronica. 

I saw a smile come to her lips when she looked at me.  I felt myself go
weak in the knees and I placed my hand on the railing to keep from 
falling into the congregation.  Veronica brought her hands up from her 
sides; she started to rise off the stage.  When she bowed her head, for 
some reason, it seemed as if she was trying to portray the crucified 
savior  I heard a small giggle come from her throat, and she commanded 
me. 

“Come,” was all she said. 

I felt myself being led down the stairs under a power not of my own
beckoning.  There was a lane open in between the congregation, and that 
was the direction in which I was being led.  When I reached the 
opening, I was slowly lowered to my knees. 

I looked back up at Veronica.  Her feet were back on the stage, and her
arms were at her sides.  The smile was still on her face, and from the 
sight, I was glad I was on my knees.  For I believe that if I was still 
standing, with her beauty, I would have fallen for sure. 

“Come,” Veronica repeated, pointing towards the foot of the stage. 

From power not of my own, I felt myself move down the lane, through the
center of the congregation.  When I was where she wanted me, Veronica 
hid her hands back into the sleeves of the robe and bowed her head. 

My eyes closed and my head bowed.  This was also not because of me.  It
seemed as if there was another presence inside me, willing me to follow 
its directions.  I was in no fear of its presence, but strangely 
secured. 

One thing that the presence inside me could control was my sense of
hearing.  From behind me, I heard whispers of chanting.  I didn't know 
what the congregation was saying, but it seemed oddly familiar.  The 
same chant was also coming from before me, coming from Veronica. 

Another sense that the presence couldn't control was my sense of touch,
feeling.  I felt hands on my shoulders, felt them on my chest, my back. 
 Slowly, the clothing that I was wearing was coming off.  Even if the 
presence inside me didn't have power over my motor controls, I believe 
I would have allowed them remove my clothing regardless. 

Once my clothing was removed, I was allowed to open my eyes and the
sight before me was one of dreams. 

Kneeling before me, wearing as much as I, was my Veronica. 

Soft curves, flawless skin, undaunted charisma. 

Her body radiated a warmth that soothed me.  Her beauty, her softness,
her radiating desire.  It felt as if she and I were one, each in 
separate bodies, but one in soul.  I heard her thoughts, I heard her 
wishes, I felt her love. 

Her thought ran throughout my mind.  I knew what she was doing, and I
was allowing it.  Memories of Helena started to fade.  I would see her 
face in my mind, and slowly it would fade completely.  Proceeding to 
the next memory, and so on and so forth, until all memories of Helena, 
Shayna and Christopher were completely and utterly voided. 

Veronica's mouth played into a bigger smile as she was erasing my
memories.  I didn't fear it, but rather enjoyed it.  Taking my 
conscience with my memories.  When she was finished cleansing, did she 
move closer to me. 

Veronica brought her hands to my face.  The touch was icy, comforting,
wanting.  Slowly, her hands went from my cheeks, achingly slow down my 
neck, to my chest, where they lingered.  Shivering with desire, my body 
quaked. 

Pushing gently, she guided me to the floor.  Other hands helped with my
descent.  Like a cat, she crawled up to me and lowered her face to 
mine.  Our lips touched. 

The kisses we traded were something that I had never experienced before.
 Soft, sweet, erotic, emotional, cleansing, and hypnotic were those 
feelings.  I know what I felt, and those were only the first few words 
that I could even try to use to describe that blinding passion.  It 
felt as if she was cleansing me of all things I had done.  Her taste, 
her breath, 

(the scent of lilacs) 

her emotions.  What she wanted to give, what I wanted, one in the same,
and all for the taking. 

Our bodies meshed upon one another.  The sensation of touch amplified. 
The coolness of her skin blending with the warmth of mine, merging into 
one. 

Our lips parted.  When they did, it felt as if something was being torn
from me.  I wanted to be on her, in her, consumed by her.  Straddled 
upon my hips, Veronica brought her hands to her sides, through her 
hair, and straight out.  As if listening to a song in her head, her 
hips swayed from side to side.  She looked down upon me, motioning with 
her finger for me to rise. 

The hands that helped me down were eager in bringing me back up. 
Veronica wrapped my arms around her waist, and she wrapped her own 
around my shoulders.  Lowering her face to mine once more, she offered 
me her neck.  I readily accepted it, trying to consume as much of her 
luscious body as I could.  As my mouth fell down to her breasts, I felt 
myself slip inside her.  Breath quickly left us. 

Feeling the warmth of Veronica, I felt myself rising to my climax rather
quickly.  I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around Veronica tighter, 
anything to slow its coming, but my seed spilled. 

As if coming from one voice, Veronica and I screamed out in ecstasy.  I
fell back, and Veronica fell on top of me, still swaying.  When I felt 
the last sensation of pleasure seep out, I was once again held in 
paralysis.  Not because of the presence inside me, but held at bay from 
euphoria. 

I felt Veronica rise off me.  I tried to open my eyes to see where she
might be going, but I was unable to do so.  I began to hear rustling 
around me.  I opened my mouth to speak, but a cold finger touched them, 
holding back the words I wanted to speak.  Then I felt another pair of 
lips fall onto mine. 

I opened my eyes a little.  The person that I was so willingly kissing
was not my Veronica.  It was another woman, almost equal in beauty, 
tasting me as I was tasting her.  I felt hands touching me, caressing 
me, arousing me once more. 

Almost immediately, I felt myself heat up, my blood began to boil, my
libido waking up.  More lips, more kisses, more touches caressed my 
body.  I moved my arms, and everywhere that I touched, I was feeling 
another woman.  My mind was racing and I felt myself coming to another 
climax.  I did what I could to have it release this time, but it 
stayed.  Then one by one, the women removed themselves from my 
desperately wanting body.  From behind me, Veronica came. 

Kneeling down between my legs, I felt her touch my needing member.  With
her fingertips, she teased.	In her hand, I saw that she held something 
that seemed to be glowing.  I couldn't really make it out, but it did 
seem familiar. 

“Please,” I begged of her without a sound coming from my lips. 
“Please.” 

“Is this what you want?”, I heard seductively in my mind, and with a
tight squeeze, my seed passed through.  My body went completely rigid 
as it did, and I felt as if I was having a seizure.  On and on I 
spilled.  I thought that I could hear Veronica laughing, but I couldn't 
be sure from the rushing blood through my head and the screams coming 
from my own throat.  When the seizures did stop though, I lay limp on 
the ground.  Unable to move a limb, unable to open my eyes. 

I started to hear chanting once again. 

It seemed far away, like listening to a radio or a television that was
in another room.  I couldn't make out what they were saying, but the 
words sounded familiar. 

Then, like a flash from a camera, my mind clicked. 

Wet grass... blue light... a twin... a leaded goblet... glowing
liquid... Veronica... myself... 

I knew that was Friday.  Apiece of my missing memories. 

(flash) 

People? around... hot... blood... drinking salty red... red light...
incredibly hot... 

Friday night. 

(flash) 

More heat, more people... a demon... forked tongue... cat eyes...
melding into me... melding into one... pain 

Saturday. 

(flash) 

Coolness... Veronica... me... caring touches... tending to wounds...
kisses... love... peace... 

Sunday. 

I opened my eyes as wide as I could.  I saw that the room had brightened
and I now knew from where the light was coming.  It was coming from my 
Veronica, or to be more precise, her being. 

Sitting cross-legged, Veronica floated above me, slowly moving around. 
Eyes closed, softly chanting.  The rest of the congregation were saying 
her words in unison. 

I closed my eyes again.  Memories of the missing weekend came flooding
back.  They were coming so fast that it was hard for me to decipher 
what it all meant.  I tried to slow them down but that didn't work.  
Feeling nausea rising, I opened my eyes.  The new memories stopped 
coming along with the sensation of nausea. 

When I opened my eyes, Veronica was sitting next to me.  The goblet in
her hand, her eyes upon my face, smiling.  She offered me the goblet. 

“Drink,” she said into my mind. 

I felt hands help me sit once more.  I couldn't lift my arms, but
Veronica tipped the goblet and its contents into my mouth.  Down my 
throat the glowing liquid went, burning all the way down to my belly.  
I coughed and gasped, but the burning continued.  I was then laid back 
on the floor. 

Veronica brought the goblet to her own mouth and tipped it back.  As she
drank its contents, I could see it slowly make its way down her neck, 
past her chest, to her stomach.  From there, I watched as the liquid 
began to take the form of her heart, and pump through her veins. 

As her glowing blood pumped through her, I could feel it coursing
through my own body as well.  The burning was becoming unbearable.  I 
couldn't move to touch it, but I knew that there was nothing that I 
could do to ease to suffering.  I then saw Veronica double over as if 
she was in pain.  At the same moment, my body became rigid as a board. 

I could see Veronica.  I could see that there was something happening to
her.  Her body began to take on a shimmering effect, like watching 
something through the shiver of a black asphalt road in the middle of a 
desert.  Veronica lifted her head, and with her eyes still closed, she 
faced me. 

Her eyes snapped open. 

The eyes of a cat. 

The deep red eyes of the demon. 

Veronica sat up quickly and rose into the air.  I could hear her scream.
 Not a scream of physical torment, but rather the scream of emotional 
pain.  Drowning out all sounds, drowning out the world. 

I watched Veronica's body melt.  It slipped off her being and dripped
onto the floor.  Underneath her facade, was something more hideous, 
nightmarish. 

Behind the mask of beauty, an evil looking beast leered.  The perfect
nose of her face was forced up high and pulled out from her head.  Her 
lips rolled up as her mouth and nose pushed away from her face.  What 
was behind those once luscious lips was the most hideous looking set of 
teeth imaginable; each one filed to a point, each one dripping with 
steaming drool.  Her once perfect body turned into the color of rotting 
algae, deep green with traces of brown did her creamy complexion 
change.  Course hair began to sprout as her muscularity changed into 
something of a monster. 

The transformation seemed to take forever.  As each second passed,
Veronica's body took another form.  As with her body, her screams 
changed.  From high-pitched pain, it turned into a low and contemptful 
howl.  As the last drop of Veronica's old self fell from the beast, did 
the screaming stop.  All fell silent. 

Lowering to the ground, the beast looked at me, through me, with its
hateful eyes.  Looming over my paralyzed body, I could smell its rank 
breath and pungent odor of its body.  Swaying from side to side, it 
watched me.  Then, without warning, it shrieked in my face. 

I felt the scream inside me, wanting to be let out.  I opened my mouth
wide to release it but it would not come.  Pushing harder, I found 
myself beginning to black out.  The beast jumped into the air. 

As it started coming back towards the ground, coming straight at my
face, I finally felt the scream release itself.  I couldn't move, I 
couldn't blink.  All I could do was scream. 

As the beast came closer, it began to take the form of mist.  Seeming in
slow motion, the beast drew closer.  Inch by inch it came closer to my 
face.  Then it was too late. 

Entering my mouth, the beast filled it, filling out my body.  I was
completely horrified.  It felt as if I were drowning and bursting 
within my soul.  I felt my body move once more without my being in 
control.  It wracked and withered, then it lay quiet.  My eyes closed. 

The last thing I remembered from that experience was my body being
lifted by some power other than my own.  When the fogginess cleared, I 
saw that I was looking down at the congregation that was around my 
body.  Lying upon a symbol that I readily recognized.  One of the 
symbols that I had brought home from work that morning. 

Then I received that phone call that one fateful night. 


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