The Fourth Whore, page 25
“What? No, Kenzi, I—there are probably police looking for you…I cannot have this discussion now, I have to go to the OB floor, I have to help with this code. You need to go back to your room right now while no one is looking. I have to go, something bad has happened. Maybe a gas leak or something big—”
“Henry,” she shook him by the shoulders. “They’re dead. They’re all dead. There’s nothing you can do. Just help me get out of here and I’ll tell you what I can.”
Henry felt his eyes bulging in surprise, his mouth hung open and an image of a large bug with big eyes like tennis balls hovered in his memory and he snapped his jaw shut.
“All right, all right. Come with me and do not say a word to anyone.”
He grabbed her hand. It was as cold as death. A chill went up his spine that had nothing to do with temperature.
Chapter 45: Book of Henry 2
The resident call room was on the second floor near the entrance to the ICU. It was the only place he could think of that would offer assured privacy. The halls were bereft of witnesses, but he rushed her in anyway, only fumbling the numeric lock on the door once before getting it right.
The room was small and sparse. A hospital bed, night stand with broken lamp, a desk with an ancient desktop computer and a bookshelf filled with books that were at least ten years senior to the computer. The bathroom was large enough for a walk-in shower and a set of four lockers. A recessed wall opposite the toilet contained a closet filled with teal colored scrubs. Henry stopped and took a long look at Kenzi. Sizing her for a pair of scrubs, he let his eyes graze over as much of her body that he could make out beneath the gown. She crossed her arms self-consciously and he realized how it must seem to her.
“I was just trying to figure out what size you wear…for uh, a pair of scrubs.”
Now he was fumbling his words. Why did she make him so nervous? Because you like her, because you have always liked her and now you have her alone in your call room in nothing but a hospital gown.
His penis agreed with his brain. It was standing at attention, ready for duty.
“You could have asked me my size,” she said and turned to the rack of monochromatic hospital wear. “Where are the sizes on these things?”
He grabbed a pair of smalls with the yellow draw strings and trim and held them strategically in front of his Benedict Arnold crotch. “It goes by color. Yellow is small. I am sure it is the right size for you. I’ll just step out and give you some privacy.”
He made sure he was turned at least ninety degrees away from her before handing over the hangers. He rushed out, accidentally slamming the door behind him.
“So, is it OK to wear these without underwear, cause uh, I’m au natural under this fancy gown,” she yelled through the door.
This did nothing to ease the state of alert in his pants.
“It is fine, I am sure that um, some people do that,” he answered through the door. Willing his brain to think of anything else but the thin material separating him from her naked body.
“Yeah, no bra either and my nips say it’s pretty chilly in this place. Do you have a hoodie or anything I can put over this?” Before he could answer, she stepped out.
Don’t look at her nipples, don’t look at her nipples.
He looked at her nipples.
She smiled. He swept past her into the bathroom to grab his black sweatshirt out of the locker. An old Detroit Tigers surgical cap lay crumpled in a ball on the top shelf. Disappointment in himself, his failure as a surgical resident, and the need to have his father intervene just to get a spot in Internal Medicine worked wonders on his libido. When he returned to Kenzi with the jacket and hat, there was no worry about what she might notice.
“Thanks,” she said, putting on the sweatshirt and zipping it up far enough to cover her breasts. “What do I do with this?” She held out the hat.
“Oh, yes, can you uh…well…”
He reached up and smoothed her hair back from her head with both hands, pulling it into a pony tail behind her. He was so close he could smell her. She smelled oddly of dirt, soil, and the ground after it rains. Not an unpleasant smell but also not what he expected. He twisted the hair into a loose bun and then with his left hand he worked the hat on her head, around the hair. He tied the back to hold it in place and stepped back to look at her.
Damn it, she’s even cuter with the hat and hoodie on.
Before his groin could mutiny again, he decided now would be a great time to ask the million-dollar question.
“Kenzi, where have you been? How did you even get out of your room? There were police officers everywhere.”
She started toward the door and he managed to move quicker, ducking around her, and blocking it.
“It’s such a long, crazy story. I’ll tell you, I promise. But I just need somewhere to crash.” She didn’t look like she needed rest. She looked all better.
“This,” he gestured to her, “is nuts. How are you walking? Where is your halo? How can you be healed?”
“Later Henry. We need to get out of here. For real. It’s dangerous for me. It’s not that far to your place, if you give me the keys, I can hoof it.”
“How…I mean, you know where I live?”
He wanted answers, but mostly he was stalling, trying to figure out how he was going to get himself out of this current situation. He wanted to let her stay, of course he did, but he couldn’t explain any of the madness that was currently happening at his apartment. He couldn’t have her just go barging in on it.
“Really? That one time, you told my mom and I that you could walk to the hospital from your apartment. I looked you up online and then mapped out your address. Easy as that.” She shrugged. “Henry, please. I’m sorry if I invaded your privacy or whatever, I just need your help. You said you were my friend. I feel like I’m going crazy. Like nothing in this world makes sense anymore. I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t.”
She put her hands on his arms. “But what I know for sure is that if I get caught here, I’ll be expected to know all the answers or else I’ll end up in jail.”
Henry sighed. Her hands on his arms felt nice. “I want to help you, I do. But I cannot let you stay right now. I—I have to get back to work. I was paged, if I don’t respond, I’ll be in trouble.”
“I asked my nurse to call you this morning. She said you were off today. That’s all I need, Henry. Just a day or two,” she pleaded.
Her eyes, one blue, the other a domino with a single dot of black at its center glistened up at him. For the first time, he noticed the freckles sprinkled over her face.
“OK, how about this, what if I get you a hotel room for a few days. I will even bring you home-cooked food. You just cannot stay with me. I cannot risk them finding out I helped you.”
That was good. It made sense. She could not question that. My god, her lips. Had they always been that full or was she pouting?
“I thought you were different Henry, but you’re just like everyone else. No thanks, I got this. I can take care of myself.” She tried to shove him out of the way to leave but he stepped toward her and grabbed her wrists.
“Wait. Just wait OK? The truth is; something really strange has happened, and I don’t want you involved. I’m trying to keep you safe.” Without thinking, he dropped her wrist and touched her face. She leaned closer and for a moment, he thought she was going to kiss him.
She caught him off balance and elbowed him to the side. Pushing through the door, she stopped.
“How the fuck do I get out of here?”
“All right, all right. You win. Just let me scan the hallway and then I will take you to my place. I’ll tell you everything on the way.”
z
“A pregnant woman,” Kenzi asked when he’d finished his story. “You’re sure? I mean maybe she’s just fat.”
“She is not fat. Give me credit, Kenzi. I know a pregnant woman when I see one.”
“And the other one with her is tall, blonde and all fucked up?”
“Yes,” he repeated Kenzi’s summation. “Very fucked up.”
“But how did they find you? I mean how did they know you were a doctor?” Kenzi was asking questions but not the kinds he’d expected nor was she acting all that shocked at the general situation.
“Funny you ask. She mentioned you.” He stopped at his front door.
Chapter 46: Book of War 9
“Please don’t hurt us,” Beth said. She knew she shouldn’t, Lilith had warned her twice to be quiet but now there was another woman here, maybe she would be more sympathetic.
“Oh, but we will, we have to,” the man who Lilith had called Beelzebub said with a laugh.
She wasn’t eliciting any pity points here. Beth decided to follow her friends’ examples and stay quiet. Instead, she’d watch, observe, and think. She knew a lot of demonology. Perhaps she’d have a chance of stopping them if she could calm down and concentrate.
“Have you prepared the altar?” Beelzebub asked.
“All but the fire, my darling,” Lilith answered.
Altar was bad. Altar meant sacrifice.
“Cynthia, beneath this ground lay the bones of your ancestor. She is needed in order to continue my conquest. Her blood flows through your veins, you must draw her spirit from its resting place,” Lilith explained.
Beth peeked to see if the woman was willing to participate in this “conquest” or if she could be counted on as an ally in their escape.
She couldn’t make out if Cynthia was nodding or if she’d said anything. Beth hazarded a look at the others, but in the little bit of firelight, she couldn’t tell if they were looking or not. Maybe they’d passed out in shock. Just as well. There was no way to communicate so if each girl was trying to work out a plan on her own it could get chaotic.
“We must start the fires; the blood should be warmed,” Beelzebub said.
It made sense that he would lead the ritual, he was the demon, he knew dark magic better than anyone. What could she possibly do to distract the devil?
“I will prepare Cynthia while you begin,” Lilith answered.
Lilith, if Beth recalled her facts correctly, was also considered a demoness, so, the two might be running this thing together. She wished she’d have read more about this stuff. Was she planning to put Tituba’s soul into her baby? This was just too crazy to even think about. God, her head hurt.
Beelzebub started a fire beneath Lauryn’s head. It was small but the distance between the two was probably at most three feet. Being directly above it had to be hot. Lauryn squirmed as much as her ties would let her and then she screamed.
“Hush,” the demon said. “Let the fire warm your blood.”
“No. Nooo. Nooo.” Lauryn cried. The heat was too much. If Lauryn had longer hair, it would already be on fire. She couldn’t be expected to silence her terror.
Beelzebub turned back to Lilith and a now-naked Cynthia. “I need to spill her blood quickly, I cannot tolerate the screams.”
Beth could see the whites of the other girls’ eyes because, just like her own, they were wide with fear. The remaining three managed to stifle their cries. Screaming did not appear to be working out well for Lauryn.
I’m so sorry, Lauryn. Beth thought, but it had to be every girl for herself.
Cynthia approached Beelzebub with a chalice. He kissed it and then handed something to her. Beth worked out it was a knife when the light of the fire glinted off it just before Cynthia slit Lauryn’s throat. Lauryn tried to scream, but it sounded like someone blowing bubbles in chocolate milk.
Her blood splashed and ran into the cup while Beelzebub fell to his knees and began to suckle from Cynthia’s breast. She could see their shadows in front of the fire. It didn’t take a pervert to imagine what was happening. The other girls were grunting and gagging, Lauryn, thankfully, had stopped struggling, and Cynthia moaned wildly.
Beelzebub pulled himself off her breast and wiped his chin with his arm. His face glistened with blood. Lilith came to them with a small cup and held it up to Cynthia’s chest. She was collecting something, and Beth guessed it was blood as well. When a witch lets the devil suckle, he often bites and takes her blood. It made sense. Lilith mixed Cynthia’s blood with Lauryn’s.
Blood was common in rituals and they had plenty now, didn’t they? Maybe she and the others would just be tortured a little. She could be strong enough to survive anything if it meant getting out of this alive.
Beelzebub chanted something in Latin—maybe—and poured the blood onto the ground in lines connecting one post to another. He stopped at Annika and sniffed up at her. Annika squealed. He laughed and continued. By the time the circle was made, the fire had started to crawl up Lauryn’s post. The scent of burnt hair permeated the clearing. The other girls coughed and choked but no one cried or screamed, not after what happened to their friend.
Lilith took Cynthia by the hair and paraded her around the circle. She brought her to each girl so that Cynthia could see their faces. When she looked at Beth, Beth kept her eyes focused on Cynthia’s torn and mangled breast.
“I like this one best,” Cynthia said in a slurry voice that made Beth think of sex symbols like Marilyn Monroe who tried to sound sexy but typically sounded drunk.
“Very good,” Lilith said. “Beelzebub, the other two will take communion now as I make the final arrangements with Cynthia.”
“No, please,” Jess whined. A buzzing like cicadas on a midsummer’s night grew. From the fire where Lauryn’s charred body hung, arose a tornado of flies. They enveloped Beelzebub and lifted in a mass, presumably taking him with them. The swarm migrated to the midpoint between Jess and Annika. There, it seemed to pulsate; condensing and expanding over and over. Out of the mass a figure arose, the color and texture of Lauryn’s charred body. Horns curled out of its forehead, eyes the size of apples bulged, wings unfurled behind the monster, and a tubular tongue protruded from its mouth like a syringe.
It rubbed its hands rapidly together and approached Jess.
“Oh god. Please don’t touch me, don’t touch me. No.” Her voice rose in pitch. The creature was so tall, he could look her directly in the face instead of up as he had when he was in human form. Jess shook her head back and forth, but he grabbed her and held it still.
“Take communion from me, and allow the madness to consume you,” it said. Its voice buzzed in vibrato.
Jess screamed.
It was a mistake. With her mouth open, he thrust his tongue far back into her throat. Beth felt a gorge rise as the creature, too, began to heave. His tongue swelled in Jess’s mouth forcing her jaws wide. Her screams turned to moans turned to gurgling and gagging as he pumped his demon bile into her.
When he was done, he slashed at her ties and Jess fell to the ground. Beth didn’t know if she was dead or not. She turned away from the grisly scene to see two naked women, writhing about on the grass on her side of the center of the circle.
Beelzebub turned his attentions to Annika who also screamed, but abruptly stopped when his face was in front of hers. Even in the dull light of the fires, she could see Annika biting her lips, trying to keep her mouth closed. She was always the toughest of the four, the no-fear, nothing can touch her type.
“I read the journal,” she said to him trying to stall or maybe bargain. “You’re the devil that Tituba made a pact with. I can do that. I’ll pledge myself to you. I’ll never tell anyone.” Her frantic chatter left her mouth open and she received her communion in the way Jess had, ending on the ground.
He returned to the women who had by now whipped themselves into a sexual frenzy. Beth didn’t want to see anymore but she couldn’t look away.
“Take your communion and seal your pact with the devil,” Beelzebub roared.
Lilith had Cynthia by the hair again and forced the woman to her knees. An impossibly massive cock rose from the shadow of his dark, bloated, fly-like body. Lilith pushed Cynthia’s face onto it and the woman struggled against it. Lilith drove her head back and forth. Beth could see Cynthia gagging. Drool fell from her overly extended jaw.
Movement in the periphery caught Beth’s attention. Jess and Annika were getting up, but something was wrong. Their joints bent in the wrong way, they stood asymmetrically and stumbled about like zombies.
“Witch! Witch!” they screamed, pointing at Cynthia.
The girls fell into seizures, growling and frothing at the mouth.
Beelzebub roared with them as he came, the force of his ejaculation knocked Cynthia back into Lilith. Cynthia coughed and spat, but Lilith held her mouth shut.
“Swallow it, take your communion, you belong to him now, witch.”
The girls tore their clothes off. They clawed at their own faces and ripped out chunks of hair.
“The witch is pricking us, oh how it burns,” they cried.
Beth could do nothing but watch in horror as her blood-covered friends destroyed themselves. The girls screamed in lunacy until their three captors approached and fell into the frenzy. Jess and Annika died in a bloody, satanic orgy. Beth was the only one left and she feared her fate would be the worst of all.
Chapter 47: Book of War 10
The early morning chill slapped at Beth’s cheeks, bringing her back to consciousness. Spring’s yellow-green light added a cartoonish quality to the shredded, broken bodies of her friends lying akimbo on the ground. She was glad that her brain was as numb as her body. She felt nothing. She’d used up her supply of adrenaline. All she could do now was pray for her own life. Pray to every god her parents had introduced her to and hope that one just might listen.Beyond the carnage in the foreground, Cynthia lay on her back, her naked body covered in symbols drawn in blood. Lilith stood at the woman’s head, holding it steady. Her pregnant belly forced her to bend forward slightly so that her breasts hung just over Cynthia’s eyes. It was the demon, though that held Beth’s attention. He was pissing in a circle around the women. When it hit the ground, it sizzled like acid and seeped into the dirt forming a deep moat. A sour stink steamed up out of the newly formed border. It rose in a cylinder of mist so that Beth could only make out shadows and movements behind the curtain.
