Convocation, page 11
“I’m fine,” Jarek shot back. He was confused about what could have made him ill. The light from the flashlight waved over the vomit. “What on earth?” Jarek asked as he wiped his sleeve across his mouth.
Both men squatted to examine the liquid. Before their eyes lay a pool of fluid as black as ink. But it wasn’t just the oddity of the vomit itself; it was that mixed in it were more bits of fingernails, painted bright red. A shadow rushed past the men. Jarek could tell Marcus didn’t notice the spirit move through them. It had come from the stairwell and rushed down the tunnel. He stared down the black hole as Marcus remained fixated on the pool of black vomit and fingernails.
“Marcus, we need to keep moving.”
“Um, can we talk about what I’m looking at?” he responded in a shaky voice.
Jarek already knew what this vomit was the result of. I don’t think he’s ready to hear about demons attempting possession. “I . . . I think I know what it is,” he said in hesitation. “It . . . I think it is from a demon attempting to, uh, to connect with me.” Marcus let out a sigh; Jarek couldn’t determine if it was in skepticism or acknowledgment of the severity of this situation. “It would be a first for me, but I know just by looking at it—this is of supernatural abilities. It is trying its hardest to keep us away.”
As soon as the last word slipped out Jarek’s mouth, the gurgling noise began to grow louder. It quickly sounded like it was all around them. Something wet plopped on Jarek’s shoulder. He stood up fully and rubbed his fingers on the liquid. It felt like saliva, but as he brought the substance into view, he spread his fingertips apart to reveal the sticky goop was as black as his vomit. He tilted his head up to see the source.
Jarek stumbled backward as he saw the creature clinging unnaturally to the ceiling of the cave. Its long, thin white hair hanging down, its mouth partially open. Jagged rotten teeth shown in the dim light, with spots of spit built up in the corner of its mouth. But once again, it was this beast’s eyes that made Jarek’s inner core tremble. The large gaping holes into nothing.
As Jarek stared, ignoring Marcus’s questions about what was happening, he realized where the black sticky substance was dripping from—it was from its eye sockets. The thick fluid dripped again, landing on the ground near Jarek’s feet.
“Yooouuu . . .” Jarek heard it speak in his mind. “I . . . I knoooww you are close.”
It was at that moment that Jarek realized this demon was unable to see in this plane. “Marcus, we must move,” Jarek said at regular volume as he collected himself. He grabbed Marcus’s arm and began to jog down the earthen corridor.
“Coooommmmmeeee baaacck,” he heard the deep, gruff voice saying farther in the distance.
As they ran, the flashlight in Marcus’s hand was moving all about. He didn’t ask any questions as they moved. Jarek was focused on getting to the end of the tunnel. We cannot turn back now. After what seemed to be about ten minutes of running, the light finally reflected back at them. The dirt walls were becoming glossier from moisture. The men slowed their pace back to a walk. Jarek knew it was the end of the tunnel.
Giant boulders of granite protruded from the dirt walls. The smell began to change a bit as the cold draft became more consistent. As they reached the end, Marcus flung the flashlight around in panic to see where to go. The sound of claws gripping into the ceiling grew louder as the beast scurried toward them. Marcus dropped the flashlight. Jarek scrambled to retrieve it from the dirt. As he was bringing it up from the ground, he saw a tiny glimpse of light coming from between two of the boulders. Ulrika mentioned a secret door. He rushed over to it and began to push up against it. To his surprise, it moved to the side fairly easy. It must be the door.
“Marcus, in here. Hurry!” Both men squeezed through the opening between the two massive rocks. “Help me push this back,” Jarek said as he began to lean into the piece of cold granite. Marcus assisted and it moved right back into place. “Quick! Find something to jam into this gap!”
Marcus and Jarek rushed around the dimly lit room frantically. “There!” Marcus said as he moved over to an old piece of timber lying on the ground and picked it up. Just as he was about to shove it into the gap, an arm reached through. It had loose gray skin, and its long fingernails dug into the dirt as it groped for them. Marcus froze from shock. Jarek grabbed the timber from his hands and slammed it into the demon’s arm.
“Ahhhhhh!” it screamed in a gurgled growl. “Cooommme baaaccck.”
With one strong swoop, Jarek shoved the log in the gap, jamming both rocks in place. He fell back onto the ground, landing on his behind in disbelief of what just happened. He took several breaths before turning toward Marcus.
“Was . . . was that . . .”
“Yep. That right there, Marcus, was a demon. Write that up in your report,” Jarek said with a grin. “Now come on. We won’t have too long before it figures out how to penetrate through those rocks.” Jarek looked around the new tunnel they now stood in. A faint light coming from about forty feet down drew his attention immediately. “Come on, this way,” he said while nodding toward the light.
“This is part of the mine shaft, I think,” Marcus said.
“I believe you are right. I can see a buttress up there, and look.” He pointed the light at the ground. “The old rail tracks. Watch your step.” They shuffled along the tracks methodically. Jarek didn’t want to trip, but also because something about the light coming from farther up didn’t sit well with him. As they moved along, he could see several shadows shifting about the mine shaft. His hair was standing on end on his neck and arms. He could feel a dark, painful energy emitting from the lit room ahead.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Marcus whispered. “Do you smell that? Something is burning.”
“That’s why I am proceeding with caution,” Jarek whispered back. As they approached the opening off to the side, it was clear the light jutting out into the shaft was flickering. “It’s a lit fire in there,” Jarek said softly back toward Marcus.
Jarek reached the edge of the opening. He paused with his back pressed tight against the mine’s wall. Shadows darted about, up and down the shaft. Marcus seemed unaware of the spirits haunting this place. Jarek knew he had to glimpse into the lit room. He drew a deep breath through his nose, made a fist with both hands, and slowly moved his head into the room. Marcus grabbed his shoulder, holding him back a bit.
“I need to look,” Jarek said as his face turned into the room. His eyes moved about, absorbing what he was seeing. Trying to process this odd sight.
In the center of the room sat the fire. If there wasn’t a fire lit, someone would assume it was a well by the rocks surrounding it. The fire was roaring and crackling. There were several makeshift tables made of old lumber from the mines. On the tables appeared to be a bunch of tools. On one were several different types of tongs, in all different sizes. A large hammer was lying on the ground under another. Jarek’s eyes locked on several saws lying on a third table, next to a pile of cloth that was filthy and covered in dirt. No, not dirt. That’s ash . . . ash and blood. A shadow rushed out of the room through Jarek and vanished.
His heart sank in his chest as the pieces were coming together for him. On the table next to the filthy pile of cloth lay a crumpled dress—a dress of emerald green. Beyond the tables along the walls were various piles of cream-colored items, sorted by type. Jarek became overwhelmed as his eyes focused on the different piles of bones. He could feel the pain and suffering that happened in this room. His senses became stunned. He turned back into the mine shaft and pressed his back against the cold earthen wall. Several tears rolled out of his eyes and down his cheeks.
“What is it? Is there someone in there?” Marcus asked.
Jarek shook his head. “No . . . no, I didn’t see anyone in there. Well, not anyone alive,” he said somberly.
Marcus pushed past him and rushed into the room. Once inside, he froze at the sight. “Jesus Christ,” he said aloud. He was breathing so heavy Jarek could hear it. “This . . . this . . .” he stuttered without forming a complete sentence.
“This is even more treacherous than I imagined,” Jarek said. His eyes inspected the floor, covered in ashes. The woman warning me . . . it wasn’t dirt on her gloves, it was ashes. “They . . . they were burned,” he said out loud without thinking.
“This . . . this is a torture chamber,” Marcus finally got out.
“No, Marcus, it’s even worse than that.”
“I . . . I don’t understand,” Marcus replied as he looked at Jarek.
“Marcus, this . . . this room. It’s a sacrificial chamber.”
Chapter 11
Sacrifice
December 31, 1924, 7:38 p.m.
Crackles from the fire and the heavy breathing of the men were the only noises bouncing off the walls of the underground chamber. The room smelled wrong. Without even seeing the area, simply sensing the smell, one would know it was emanating something dark . . . insulting to the natural order . . . unholy. The sour scent hovering in the air had hints of rust and sulfur. All signs of burning flesh. Several spirits lurked about the room, moving swiftly. There was no communication from them, but Jarek knew it was some of the missing women’s spirits and some other lost souls. Likely drawn to one another on this plane.
“What . . . what do you mean ‘sacrificial chamber’?” Marcus finally asked.
“These are some very dark practices. I have never seen it before, but—”
“Then how do you know?” Marcus interrupted.
“I have been told about them by my grandmother. And . . . and I have read about them.”
“So what exactly is it?”
“It’s designed as a place to spill blood. To kill in hopes of attracting something even darker and more sinister.”
“Demons. You mean that thing I just saw out there?” Marcus asked while running his hands over his face. “This cannot be real.”
“It is very real, Marcus. There is much evil in this world. You see it often in your line of work. Some people are just bad people and wish to cause harm. But there is another evil out there too. Oftentimes it goes undetected because most people cannot see it. This room here . . . this is used to draw that evil to our world. To harness that evil and use it.”
Jarek stopped talking, as the vibrations throughout the chamber were causing his senses to jumble. He took a step closer toward the fire. He crouched by the surrounding rocks and ran his hands over the warm stones. Etched in each stone was a symbol. All too familiar symbols.
Marcus saw them too. “What . . . what are those?” he asked.
“They’re seals.”
“Seals?”
“Yes. Every known demon has a seal. Their own personal marking is used to summon them. This practice goes back thousands of years. I recently . . .” He paused as he remembered the book from the O’Connell’s still in his satchel. The Lesser Keys of Soloman. He reached in and pulled it out. “Here, look,” he said as he turned to the page he had bent the corner on and handed it to Marcus. “These here. I recently experienced my first encounter with one of these creatures tormenting a family.” Jarek’s heart sank thinking about the case once more. So much pain and suffering for nothing.
“I don’t think I understand. How can a symbol summon a demon?”
“I honestly don’t fully understand it myself. This book discusses it all, but I don’t read Latin. I am familiar with the book because I’ve seen it translated into English before, but I am having trouble remembering it all.”
“Maybe you know someone that could translate?”
“There is one person I know who certainly recognizes what this says—my grandmother Leona. I want to contact her, but I must wait for her to contact me.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
“It’s a long story. But when she is able, she will reach out.” At least, I certainly hope she does. A spirit drifted through the room and passed through Jarek, breaking his chain of thought. The spirit rested near him as he crouched near the fire. It began to talk to him in broken sentences. The spirit’s voice in his head was fogging his mind. Jarek took a deep breath to process the message. As she talked, Jarek could see Marcus flipping through The Lesser Keys of Solomon as he walked about the chamber. Suddenly, the spirit’s emotions began to push Jarek’s own. Jarek began to wipe away the tears rolling down his face. He was flushed and pulsating with heat.
“Are . . . are you okay?” Marcus asked. He was standing on the far side of the chamber near the tables.
“Ahem, uh, yes,” Jark replied, clearing his throat. “Sometimes I become too connected when I am being talked to and don’t even realize it.”
“You mean, one . . . a ghost was talking to you just now?”
“Yes. This room is filled with several lost spirits.”
Marcus looked around, clearly not seeing what Jarek could see and feel.
“Don’t worry. They won’t hurt you.” Jarek stood and walked to one of the tables near Marcus. He placed his hand on Mary Frank’s dress, which was all crumpled up. He felt the soft fabric in his hand as he squeezed it. “It was hard to understand the spirit, but I was able to tell it was one of the young women. She said she was brought here and endured much pain before being killed.” Jarek continued to another table and ran his hands on the tools lying there. The pain and suffering these instruments inflicted was clear to him. “Something about all this is confusing to me, and I can’t figure out what it is for sure. She feels stuck here . . . they all do. They are too scared to leave.”
“Well, did she say who killed her?” Marcus asked eagerly.
“No, I couldn’t make that part out. Something about the face of them being covered.”
“Them?”
“Yes . . . this is all too elaborate to have one person responsible. It is someone that clearly knows what they are doing, in several contexts.” Jarek picked up one of the tongs but set it down quickly when he realized it was covered in dried blood. Several small glass bottles filled with a metallic liquid were resting at the back of the table. The tabletop had more carvings of various symbols. A howl from above made both men stare up to see a ventilation shaft. “There must be another way in here.”
“It is likely an offshoot from one of the old gold mines. But that could be miles in the other direction.”
“Well, someone was clearly here recently,” Jarek said at the fact the fire was still burning.
“But where would they have gone? I don’t see another exit . . . which, by the way, how the hell are we going to get out of here with that thing in the tunnel?”
“I’m thinking on it.”
“Maybe there’s something in this book,” Marcus said as he handed it back to Jarek. “We need to get out of here and contact the authorities. They need to come down here and see this.”
Jarek began to flip through the book. “The demon I dealt with was able to be controlled when I discovered which one it was. Maybe, perhaps, if I can determine which one that thing is out there, maybe we can use that to our advantage.”
Jarek faced back toward the firepit to study the etchings on the stones. Every symbol was different, no repeating symbols to help narrow it down. He began to turn the pages in the book to compare the symbols. As he scootched around the pit, he stopped at the sight of an especially familiar one.
It was Astaroth’s. His stomach flipped seeing that vile creature’s seal.
“Why does that one look different?” Marcus asked.
“What?” Jarek responded.
“See, it stands out so much, the one you’re looking at. It’s like it is painted . . . with blood.”
“You’re right,” Jarek said as he ran his fingertip over it. “And this one over here too,” he continued as he noticed a symbol near the ground filled in with dried blood. He began to desperately turn the pages of the book to identify it. The circle had an odd square with arms, a crescent moon at the bottom, and a trident pointing up from the center. “Ah! I think this is it,” Jarek said as he pointed at the page for Marcus to see.
“That looks like it to me too. So what do we do now?” Marcus asked as his eyes focused intently on the book.
“Um, Marcus. Can . . . can you see that?” Jarek asked as he stared past the tables. A tall, muscular figure wearing black pants and no shirt was standing there. His arms were covered in long black leather gloves, and a black hood concealed his face. He didn’t move at all, but Jarek knew this was no spirit.
“Don’t move!” Marcus commanded as he drew a Colt revolver that was concealed under his jacket. He pointed the weapon at the man. “Where did you come from?” he shouted.
Silence. The only motion from the man was his chest, covered with several burn scars, that was moving in and out as he breathed.
Jarek felt something drop from above and hit his shoulder. He looked over to see some dirt on his shoulder. He peered up to see the source. Directly above him, once again clung to the ceiling, was the creature. It had made its way into the chamber. The large hollow eyes appeared to be staring at Jarek, but he knew the beast was blind in this world. “Marcus . . . we need to go,” he said without breaking eye contact with the creature.
“But—”
“Now, Marcus, we need to go.” As the words came out of Jarek’s mouth, a cloud of black swirling smoke began to twist from the fire. “Marcus, right now!” Jarek grabbed his arm as he rushed to the gap between the boulders. “Help me get this open!” The men removed the piece of lumber they had wedged between the large rocks, allowing them to create just enough space for a small opening. Jarek crawled through the gap, followed by Marcus. Jarek pulled out the flashlight from his satchel once again and flipped it on. The men raced down the tunnel. After a while they slowed down a bit because it was clear they weren’t being pursued.
“What the hell just happened?” Marcus asked as they jogged along the corridor.
“I don’t understand exactly, but this is something much bigger than I expected. And we were not in a position to deal with it.”
