By Mistydawn
It was a cold, dark winter's night in Salem Massachusetts. Tituba could feel the north wind blows through the paper thin walls as she rocks the fussy baby to sleep. Two older children sat quietly on the bearskin rug by her feet; listening intently to one of her wild tales.
"So you see, children, you're lucky to be born in America," she finishes. A tear trickles down her cheek as she glances at the wide-eyed lads. She lost everything that mattered to her that day, her friends, family and home.
"That really happened? People came in and destroyed your village?" eight-year-old Timothy asks. He's always been a curious child, full of questions and speculations.
"I'm afraid so. I was sold to your mama and papa soon after." She recalls how she was on the verge of starvation when she was taken from the town.
"Don't you like taking care of us?" four-year-old Mary asks.
"I love looking after you, even when you're fussy." She glances down at the frail infant fretting in her arms. The baby has been sickly since she was born.
"Mama says the doctor can't figure out what's wrong with her," Timmy sadly replies.
"Doctors and all their fancy medicine aren't worth the good money you pay them," Tituba hisses.
"Do you think you can cure baby Anna?"
"I have something that will fix this little tot right up."
"Is it one of your secret spells?" She'd often told him stories about the secret potions, and the magic these mixtures can perform.
"Never mind what it is, young man. Just know your sister will be cured before the sun rises in the morn."
"It is a magic spell just like the ones your mama used on you," Timothy gleefully replies.
"Oh my, look at the time, it's off to bed for the both of you."
"I want to hear another story." Timothy protests, crossing his arms.
"Me too, me too," Mary sings.
"One quick story, then it's off to bed." The children scoot in closer.
"Once upon a time in my native country, a band of foreign nationals came to the village. They said they were there to help us, but we knew they were up to no good."
"What were they up to, what, what?" Timothy asks, rising to his knees. The door flies open; the children gasp as they turn towards it. A tall figure suddenly appears in the shadows. Frightened, the children grab hold of Tituba's legs as the figure stomps through the door.
"Why aren't the children in bed and what is that god awful smell?" the misses asks, fanning her face.
"We were just finishing a story, ma'am."
"Well, finish it in the morning and get rid of that stench at once."
"Yes, ma'am." The misses storms up the stairs.
"I'm sorry we got you into trouble," Mary apologizes.
"Don't you fret about old Tituba, little miss." She kisses the child on top of her head. She's grown very fond of the children in an ouma sort of way. "Now off to bed you two before I feed you to the village beast." She roars. The children giggle as they run up the stairs. Looking down at the infant fussing in her arms, she sighs. "Let's see if we can get you feeling better." She props the baby against her large body. The baby begins to wail as she thrashes about.
"That's enough out of you." She gazes deep into the child's blue eyes. The baby immediately hushes. "That's my girl, now eat this before it gets cold." She stuffs a piece of warm milk toast in her mouth. The baby chomps hungrily on the saturated bread. "That's it, baby, eat it all up," she says, offering her another bite. Taking the toast from the maid, Anna shoves the entire piece into her mouth.
"Easy there, child," she says, patting the choking infant on the back.
"What on earth are you doing?" the Misses asks from the top of the stairs.
"I'm taking care of the baby, ma'am."
"How, by choking her to death?"
"She got a little greedy is all."
"This isn't one of your strange concoctions is it?"
"No ma'am, it's plain old milk toast, same as her siblings."
"You know what'll happen if I find out you're lying, right?"
"Yes, ma'am." She has threatened to ship her back to Africa on numerous occasions.
"I want this mess cleaned up before you go to bed."
"Yes, ma'am." The misses storms off to her room.
"What your mama don't know won't hurt her," she whispers to the chubby baby babbling happily on her lap.
***
The following morning Tituba wakes up to find the baby cooing in her crib.
"How long have you been awake, little one?" she asks, reaching for the infant. The baby babbles in response.
"You're feeling better I take it?" The infant's jabbers continue as she's being lifted from her crib. "You let out a mighty stink for such a little thing." Tituba scrunches up her face. The baby giggles at the sight.
"You wouldn't think it's so funny if you're on my end of this deal." she laughs, removing the soiled nappy.
"Tituba, Tituba come quick!" Timothy cries, running into the room.
"What is it, child?"
"The police are taking mommy away."
"What on earth for?"
"Ann Putnam claims mama is a witch." Scooping the baby into her arms, Tituba runs through the house. She sees a tearful woman being manhandled out the door.
"She's the one who's casting the spell," a woman exclaims, pointing towards the housekeeper.
"You're sure it's her and not Mrs. Ward?" The confused officer asks.
"Yes, yes, she's the one I saw casting the spell last night."
"You're coming with me," the officer announces, grabbing hold of Tituba's arm.
"Here, take Anna," she says, handing the child to Timothy.
The baby starts crying in his arms. "I don't know what to do." He tries to hand the child back, the officer steps in the way.
"Ask the Andersons next door," he barks. "Let's go." The officer shoves TItuba towards the door. "You too." The cop grabs the missus's arm.
"No," the child cries. The infant continues to wail in his arms.
A large figure darkens the doorway. "Daddy." The young lad runs to the man's side.
"What is going on in here?" Ed asks as he storms through the door.
"They're accusing me of witchery, Ed." the terrified woman exclaims.
He turns to face the officer. "I give you my word that my wife is not a witch."
"It wasn't her I saw, it was the maid," the woman says again.
The officer looks at the black woman and then at Elizabeth. "Did you know your housekeeper is a witch?"
"No, I didn't, officer; she's only been with us a short while so we really don't know much about her."
The officer turns towards her husband. "Is this true?"
"Yes, yes, I bought her from a friend who'd found her in a burnt down village in Africa."
"What is your friend's name?"
"Joe Sutherland, but he doesn't know anything about her either, except she was one of the few who survived the brutal attack."
"Take them away," the captain orders. Two officers shuffle the women towards the carriage.
"What about my wife," Ed protests.
The captain turns back around. "She can stay for now, but If I find out she had any knowledge of her witchery, I'll be back to collect her too. Come along now." He grabs Tituba's arm.
"I'm not a witch, I'm not. Please tell them I'm not a witch, please," Tituba begs.
"Let's go," the officer orders, dragging her across the floor.
"Please, someone tell them the truth, please tell them the truth," the housekeeper cries.
"I said let's go." The officer jerks on her arm. Losing her footing, she stumbles down the stairs. A small circular object falls from her pocket as she bounces across the dirt.
"Let's go, " he commands.
She tearfully glances at the family one last time. Other housekeepers had warned her about them turning on her, but she never thought her master and his children would. Gathering all the courage she could muster, she turns towards the growing crowd.
"You'll rue the day you sent Tituba to her grave." Tilting her head back she cackles. The thunderous, noise causes large birds to flee from their homes, quickly engulfing the villagers. The towns people run to safety. "You and all your ancestors will rue this day," she screams as a huge bolt of lightning flashes across the sky.
***
By Mistydawn
It was a cold, dark winter's night in Salem Mass. Tituba could feel the north wind blows through the paper-thin walls as she rocks the fussy baby to sleep. Two older children sat quietly on the bearskin rug by her feet; listening intently to one of her wild tales.
"So you see, children, you're lucky to be born in America." She finishes. A tear trickles down her cheek as she glances at the wide-eyed lads. She lost everything that day, her friends, family, and home.
"That really happened? People came in and destroyed your village?" Eight-year-old Timothy asks. He's always been a curious child, full of questions and speculations.
"I'm afraid so. I was sold to your mama and papa soon after." She recalls how she was on the verge of starvation when she was taken from the town. She wipes the moisture from her face.
"Don't you like taking care of us?" Four-year-old Mary asks.
"I love looking after you, even when you're fussy." She glances down at the frail infant fretting in her arms. The baby has been sickly since she was born.
"Mama says the doctor can't figure out what's wrong with her," Timmy sadly replies.
"Doctors and all their fancy medicine aren't worth the good money you pay them," Tituba hisses.
"Do you think you can cure baby Anna?"
"I have something that will fix this little tot right up."
"Is it one of your secret spells?" Timothy asks excitedly. She'd often told him stories about the secret potions, and the magic these mixtures can perform.
"Never mind what it is, young man. Just know your sister will be cured before the sun rises in the morn."
"It is a magic spell just like the ones your mama used on you." Timothy gleefully replies.
"Oh my, look at the time, it's off to bed for the both of you."
"I want to hear another story." Timothy protests.
"Me too, me too," Mary sings.
"One quick story, then it's off to bed." The children scoot in closer.
"Once upon a time in my native country, a band of foreign nationals came to the village. They said they were there to help us, but we knew they were up to no good."
"What were they up to, what, what?" Timothy asks, rising to his knees. The door flies open. The children gasp as they turn towards it. A tall figure suddenly appears in the shadows. Frightened, the children grab hold of Tituba's legs. Their mama stomps through the door.
"Why aren't the children in bed and what is that god awful smell?" She fans her face.
"We were just finishing a story, ma'am."
"Well, finish it in the morning and get rid of that stench at once."
"Yes, ma'am." The misses storms up the stairs.
"I'm sorry we got you into trouble." Mary apologizes.
"Don't you fret about old Tituba, little miss." She kisses the child on top of her head. She's grown very fond of the children in an ouma sort of way. "Now off to bed you two before I feed you to the village beast." She roars. The children giggle as they run up the stairs. Looking down at the infant fussing in her arms, the nanny sighs. "Let's see if we can get you feeling better." She props the baby against her large body. The baby begins to wail as she thrashes about.
"That's enough out of you," She gazes deep into the child's blue eyes. The baby immediately hushes. "That's my girl, now eat this before it gets cold." She stuffs a piece of warm milk toast in her mouth. The baby chomps hungrily on the saturated bread. "That's it, baby, eat it all up," she says, offering her another bite. Taking the toast from the maid, Anna shoves the entire piece into her mouth.
"Easy there, child," she says, patting the choking infant on the back.
"What on earth are you doing?" The Misses asks from the top of the stairs.
"I'm taking care of the baby, ma'am."
"How, by choking her to death?"
"She got a little greedy is all."
"This isn't one of your strange concoctions is it?"
"No ma'am, it's plain old milk toast, same as her siblings."
"You know what'll happen if I find out you're lying, right?"
"Yes, ma'am." She has threatened to ship her back to Africa on numerous occasions.
"I want this mess cleaned up before you go to bed."
"Yes, ma'am." The misses storms off to her room.
"What your mama doesn't know won't hurt her," she whispers to the chubby baby babbling happily on her lap.
***
The following morning Tituba wakes up to find the baby cooing in her crib.
"How long have you been awake, little one?" She asks, reaching for the infant. The baby babbles in response.
"You're feeling better I take it?" The infant's jabbers continue as she's being lifted from her crib. "You let out a mighty stink for such a little thing." Tituba scrunches up her face. The baby giggles at the sight.
"You wouldn't think it's so funny if you're on my end of this deal," she laughs, removing the soiled nappy.
"Tituba, Tituba come quick!" Timothy cries, running into the room.
"What is it, child?"
"The police are taking mommy away."
"What on earth for?"
"Ann Putnam claims mama is a witch." Scooping the baby into her arms, Tituba runs through the house. She sees a tearful woman being manhandled out the door.
"She's the one who's casting the spell," a woman exclaims, pointing towards the housekeeper.
"You're sure it's her and not Mrs. Ward?" The confused officer asks.
"Yes, yes, she's the one I saw casting the spell last night."
"You're coming with me." The officer announces, grabbing hold of Tituba's arm.
"Here, take Anna," she says, handing the child to Timothy.
The baby starts crying in his arms. "I don't know what to do." He tries to hand the child back, the officer steps in the way.
"Ask the Andersons next door," He barks. "Let's go." The officer shoves her towards the door. "You too." The cop grabs the missus's arm.
"No," the child cries, holding the wailing infant in his arms.
A large figure darkens the doorway. "Daddy." The young lad runs to the large man's side.
"What is going on in here?" Ed asks as he storms through the door. Neither officer spoke. "Well, state your business."
"They're accusing me of witchery, Ed." the terrified woman exclaims.
He turns to face the officer. "I give you my word that my wife is not a witch."
"It wasn't her I saw, it was the maid," the woman says again.
The officer looks at the black woman and then at Elizabeth. "Did you know your housekeeper is practicing black magic?"
"No, I didn't, officer; she's only been with us a short while so we really don't know much about her."
"Is this true?"
"Yes, yes, I bought her from a friend who'd found her in a burnt down village in Africa."
"What is your friend's name?"
"Joe Sutherland, but he doesn't know anything about her either, except she was one of the few who survived the brutal attack."
"Take them away." the captain orders. Two officers shuffle the women towards the carriage.
"What about my wife," Ed protests. The captain turns back around.
"She can stay for now, but If I find out she had any knowledge of her witchery, I'll be back to collect her too. Come along now." He grabs Tituba's arm.
"I'm not a witch, I'm not. Please tell them I'm not a witch, please," Tituba begs.
"Let's go," the officer orders, dragging her across the floor.
"Please, someone tell them the truth, please tell them the truth," the housekeeper cries.
"I said let's go," The officer jerks on her arm. Losing her footing, she stumbles down the stairs. A small circular object falls out of her pocket as she bounces across the dirt.
"Let's go, " he commands.
She tearfully glances at the family one last time. Other housekeepers had warned her about them turning on her, but she never thought her master and his children would. Gathering all the courage she could muster, she turns towards the crowd.
"You'll rue the day you sent Tituba to her grave." Tilting her head back she cackles. The thunderous, eerie noise causes large birds to flee from their homes, quickly engulfing the villagers. "You and all your ancestors will rue this day," she screams as huge bolts of lightning flash across the sky.
By Mistydawn
Salem Massachusetts, 2016
"This is pretty cool," Nine-year-old Zack states as he glances around the desolate area. He and his best friend Ryan decided to be adventurous and explore forbidden terrain.
"My grandpa said this is where they killed the ones thought to be sorcerers." Eight-year-old Ryan beams, happy to share his newfound knowledge with his friend.
"Really?" Zack looks around more excited than before.
"He even said you can hear the witches scream late at night."
"What's over there?" Zack points towards the far side of the lot. Unlike the rest of the area, it's completely barren.
Ryan recalls what his grandfather had said. "I... I wouldn't go over there if I were you."
"Why not?"
"That's where they buried the witches."
"An old graveyard, oh, I have to see it now." Zack darts towards it.
"No, Zack, stop, don't go in there," the frightened boy cries.
Ignoring his warning, Zack continues on. He just reached the edge of the clearing when an object whizzes past his head. Chuckling, he turns towards his friend. "Nice try, Ryan."
"I... I didn't do anything." Ryan nervously glances around.
"You didn't try to scare me?"
"It... It wasn't me, I swear."
Zack picks up the wooden device and walks back to his friend. "You didn't throw this past my head?"
"It... It wasn't me." Ryan scans the area again.
"Yeah, whatever." Zack investigates the ball. "What is this anyhow?" He discovers a turquoise tribal mask painted on one side. It's ruby red eyes and bloodstained lips give in an ominous feel.
"I... I don't know, but it's sure giving me the creeps." Ryan feels the eyes burn a hole through his chest into the depths of his inner soul. "Why... Why don't you put... Put it down?"
"You don't think it's evil, do you?" Zack dangles the eerie object in his friend's face.
Its eyes connect with Ryan's; a bone-chilling fear travels down his spine. The lad tries to look away, but his head, his eyes seem to be glued in place. He attempts to cry out but finds he can't utter a sound. Ryan feels something wrap around his neck. He reaches up and discovers nothing there. The invisible vice constricts further, making it difficult to breathe. In a hail mary attempt, Ryan smacks the device away. It's grip releases; he collapses to the ground. "Get it away from me," he mutters. Tears fall from his eyes as he gasps for much-needed air.
"Why did you do that for?"
"It tried to strangle me."
"How?"
"I... I don't know, but it did."
Dropping to his knees, Zack looks around.
Ryan pulls himself up. "You're not keeping it, are you?"
"Yeah, why?"
"What if it belonged to a witch?" A strong gust of wind swirls around them as lightning flashes across the sky. "I... I think we should go."
"I need to find the ball first."
Ryan hears moaning in the distance. He looks over and discovers no one is there. He glances at his friend to find he's unaffected by the sudden noise. The entity groans again. "Please, Zack, please, let's go," he mutters, on the verge of tears.
Zack scoops it up and shoves it in his pocket. "Let's go."
The boys start to leave when they hear the bushes rustle in the distance. They turn to find a large, dark figure floating over the graves. Screaming, the two dart through the woods.
Lightning brightens the darkening skies as a turbulent wind thrashes all around them.
"Run, Zack, run," Ryan cries. The commotion continues until they reached the park.
"What happened back there?" Zack anxiously looks behind him, hoping they weren't being followed.
"I... I don't know, but I bet it has to do with that evil thing."
Zack checks his pockets. Discovering they're empty, he looks around.
"What are you doing?"
"I've lost that freaking ball."
"You're much better off without it."
Zack recalls how their horror started after he scooped it up. "Yeah, you're probably right."
"***
Being tied up in meetings all morning, Jack Anderson decides to have a late lunch in the park; away from the stuffy suits. I'd much rather be weathering the elements with my crew than stuck in a room with those arrogant jerks. He breathes in the cool, spring air.
Jack shoves the last bit of sandwich into his mouth when his cell rings. He discovers it's Mr. Hensley when he glances at the caller ID. "What does he want now?"
He and his crew have been working for him for the past few weeks, but after this morning's heated debate, he wasn't sure if they still had the job. "Hello," he grumbles, expecting more complaints. Mr. Hensley's gruff voice blares through the phone; Jack holds the device away. "I understand you have a budget, but my recommendations are necessary if you want to pass regulations."... "I don't see any way around them."..."My team will be at your site on Monday." ... "I'm not pulling my crew from another job for you."..."The job will be done before your deadline." Disconnecting the call, Jack slams his phone on the table. "Rich bastards think they own the world." He fumes.
Scooping up his empties, he tosses them in the trash. He starts to walk away when he notices a strange object glowing by his feet. He taps it with the side of his shoe; it rolls a little then stops. The glow changes to an array of vibrant colors. "What is it?" He crouches closer to the ground, but still can't figure it out. Curiosity getting the best of him, he scoops it up and inspects it. I think it's some sort of toy, he concludes, twirling the device around. Discovering the side with the painted face, he jumps; the ball plunks to the ground. "It's not a kid's toy."
He finds two copper plates at the bottom when he picks it back up. One has an odd symbol while the other has some type of text. What language is that, and what does Je sue me abotome even mean?
He eyes the strange object a little closer. I bet it's worth a pretty penny, but who would I ask? An antique dealer or a pawnbroker, maybe? Who else? He recalls the strange store on the square. "I know just the place." He dashes to his car.
A few minutes later, Jack pulls up to a small, eerie shop. All Things Magical is known for its broad assortment of freakish merchandise. If anyone would know about it, they would, he thinks, as he makes his way to the door.
He starts to step inside when he notices the spine-chilling display. Jack freezes in mid-motion. It could be worth some serious money. He eyes the device again. Taking a breath of courage, he continues on.
He sees an older lady behind the counter when he walks through the door. Her midnight black hair and sunken ashen face remind him of a character from the walking dead. She could play the part without a makeover. Jack chuckles to himself.
"May I help you?"
Her shrilly voice sends a shiver down his spine. "I found this ball and I was wondering if you could tell me about it?"
Glancing at the object, she gasps. "That's evil, I tell you, evil and you must get rid of it at once." She steps away.
"Evil?" he curiously eyes the device again.
"A witch by the name of Tituba used it long ago." Nervously glancing at the ball she retreats further back. "Many claims she used it to trap virgin souls and whoever releases them, will be enslaved by its powers from now until eternity." The object glows; the tribal drums begin to beat. The frightened shopkeep darts to the back of the store.
Jack runs after her. "Hey, wait, how am I supposed to get rid of it?"
Closing the storeroom door, she clicks the lock in place.
"Please, help me." She doesn't answer.
The music becomes louder as the flashing device vibrates in his hand. "You're not getting me." He heaves the ball across the room. The object crashes against the wall, breaking into tiny bits. The drums become deafening as thick, black smoke fills the air. Pulling his shirt over his face, Jack darts through the store.
I'm so glad I got rid of it when I did, Jack thinks as he steps through his apartment door. Exchanging his keys for the remote, he plops down on the couch.
Two days to myself. He starts surfing through the channels. Jack catches a flash of light from the corner of his eye. He looks over to find the ball intact on the window pane. "No," he screams, springing to his feet.
By Mistydawn
"How is that possible," Jack asks. He recalls how it smashed into tiny bits as he stares at it in disbelief. His thoughts travel further back to what the shopkeeper had said.
"Whoever releases the trapped souls will be enslaved by its powers from now until eternity."
"That's not happening to me." Scooping up the ball, he runs to the fireplace and throws it inside. The flames dance around the ball leaving the object untouched.
The demonic device laughs at Jack's defeat.
"I'll fix you." Grabbing the starter fluid from the cabinet, he runs over and drenches the ball.
He hears a loud whoosh as the flames roar to life; hungrily engulfing the gadget. Jack hears screaming as colorful lights glimmer through the flames. Terrified, he takes a shaky step back.
Jack watches dark, eerie shadows ascend towards the ceiling and then fade away. He glances at the fireplace and discovers the gadget is gone. I finally got rid of it.
Jack turns to find it sitting on the table. He pivots around to find the fireplace clean. "How can that be? How can that possibly be?"
"A little fire is not going to stop me." The satanic device laughs.
"I'll destroy you one way or another." Grabbing the object from its place on the table, he runs out the door.
Jack pulls up to the creepy shop a few minutes later. She's going to talk to me one way or another, he thinks as he climbs out of the car.
He finds the store window empty when he makes his way to the front. They're probably working on the display. He pulls on the door and discovers it's locked. She couldn't have gotten far.
He peeks inside and finds everything gone. Am I at the wrong store? Taking a step back, he glances around. Jack finds the salon on one side, the hardware store on the other. This is where I was earlier. He peeks through the glass again.
"Can I help you with something?" An elderly gentleman asks, stepping up beside him.
Jack jumps, the ball falls to the ground. He glances down to find the hideous mask staring at him, an evil smile on its face. I could leave it there. It'd just find its way home if I do. He reluctantly scoops it up.
"Can I help you?" the man asks again.
"What happened to the shop?" Jack points behind him.
The man cocks his head to the side, a curious expression on his face. "The shop has been closed for years."
"I was just..." Jack feels the object vibrate in his hand, he looks down to see it flashing again. Tribal drums soon follow the vast array of lights. The gentleman continues to jabber away, unaffected by the sudden show. Jack nervously glances between the man and the ball, not sure what he should do. The lights flash faster, the drum beats louder and the man continues on.
"Doctors claim she had a heart attack, but I think her black magic had something to do with it."
"I'm coming for you, Jack." The object winks.
Jack screams, dropping the ball again.
"What's wrong with you, boy?"
"You don't hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"The drums, the drums. Don't you hear the drums?" He anxiously glances at the ball. Jack becomes light-headed, his vision begins to blur. He teeters back and forth as his face turns ghostly pale.
"Is something the matter with you, boy?" the man asks as he steps away.
"Look." Grabbing the object from the dirt, Jack shoves it in the guy's face.
The gentleman glances at the device and then the lad. "What am I supposed to be looking at, exactly?"
"You don't see the lights, or hear the drums?"
The man shakes his head. "Let me get you some help, son." He pulls a phone from his pocket.
"Don't bother," Jack yells as he darts across the road. Seeing a wood chipper at the construction site, Jack runs over and throws the gadget inside. To Jack's delight, the machine roars to life.
"Hey, get away from there," a foreman yells.
"Sure, no problem." No problem at all. Smiling, he walks to his car.
***
Jack sees his girlfriend pacing the floor when he opens his apartment door.
"Where have you been, Jack, hmm, where?" She stomps towards him.
"Why, what's going on?"
"You were supposed to meet my parents before they headed home."
"Was that tonight?"
"How could you possibly forget with a sticky note on your coffee pot and on the fridge?"
Jack looks away. "I didn't realize it was tonight."
"You purposely stayed away, didn't you, didn't you?" she cries as tears roll down her face.
"I'd never do that to you."
"What else am I suppose to think, Jack, huh, what?"
"Well, I..."
"You know what I think? I think you didn't want to meet my parents because I don't mean anything to you."
"You know that's not true."
"Isn't it? When was the last time we did anything fun?" Seeing a mischievous smile creep across his face, she holds up her hand. "Besides having sex."
"I thought you enjoyed our little time in the sack."
"Did it ever occur to you that I might want something more?"
"You have to admit that it's the best you've ever had." He reaches up and massages her breast, a hint of playfulness in his eyes.
She slaps his hand away. "You're impossible, Jack, just impossible." She stomps across the room.
"Wait, Jen, don't go."
"Give me one reason why I should stay."
"Because you love me?"
"Yeah, well, it's too bad that you don't feel the same."
"I do Jen, I really do."
"The only one you love is yourself." She grabs her purse from the table. The wooden object falls to the floor.
"Where... Where did that come from?"
Jen turns to see what he's staring at. "It was here when I came in."
Jack scoops it up and inspects it. "That's impossible." There isn't a single mark on the ball.
"You'll have plenty of time to play with that thing now that we're through."
"No, wait, Jen, don't go," Jack begs, running after her.
"I'm done, Jack, done." She throws the door open.
Jack grabs her arm to stop her.
Jen spins around. "What, Jack."
"I want to take you out tonight, dinner and a movie?"
"That sounds nice." She sniffles, drying her face.
The ball vibrates in his hand, the lights begin to flicker. "Not now."
"Not now, what?"
Jack glances down at the ball and sees that it's stopped. "Nothing, let me change and then we'll go." Setting the ball on the table, he heads towards the back.
"What is this thing anyhow?" Jen asks as she scoops up the gadget.
"Don't touch it." Darting across the room, Jack knocks the ball from her hands.
She glances over a shocked look on her face. "What the..."
"You shouldn't have done that, Jen." His entire body begins to tremble as he watches the ball.
"What's wrong with you?"
"That... That thing is demonic."
"Demonic?"
"Yes, I've... I've been trying to get rid of it all day, but no matter what I do, it always finds its way home."
"The toy follows you home?"
"I know it sounds crazy, but it's true."
Jen glares into his eyes. "You promised to give up the drugs, Jack."
"I have, I swear."
"I'm not just a bootie call either, right?"
"Of course not."
"Yeah, well, I'm not listening to any more of your lies."
"I'm not lying to you."
"And I'm the queen. I'm done, Jack, done." Jen slams the door behind her.
"No, Jen, wait, I can explain." He darts towards the door.
The barrier flies open; a strong gust of wind blasts through the apartment. Jack's brawny body flies across the room; smashing against the wall.
"Your soul is mine, Jack, all mine." The satanic ball laughs.
***
By Mistydawn
A bright full moon illuminates the starry sky as a warm, gentle breeze blows softly in the night. Dense, heavy fog blankets the valley, giving the evening an eerie feel.
The prisoner's hands are bound in front of him, his feet secured with heavy chains. The bulky restraint clunks against the wood as the convict shuffles across the floor.
"I'm not a sorcerer, I'm not," Jack screams. His voice echoes through the mist. Two large men continue to drag his frail body to the center of the stage. Jack looks down and discovers an angry mob scattered through the fog. He glances up to find a noose swinging above his head.
"Hang him, hang him," the mob chants.
"Any last words?" the executioner asks.
"I'm not a warlock, I'm not," Jack cries over the savage roar.
Kill him, kill him," the blood-thirsty crowd yells.
"I'm innocent I tell you, innocent," Jack screams.
"The jury says you're not." The hangman stuffs a soaked rag in Jack's mouth and then pulls a mask over his head. The assembly cheers, happy to see justice done.
"Please, stop," Jack mumbles.
The assassin gives him a hefty shove. The rope tightens around his neck; his feet swing back and forth.
Jack startles awake gasping for air. Where am I, what just happened? He looks around to find he's on his kitchen floor. An unsettling stillness seems to blanket the cold, somber room. That was one hell of a dream.
He notices the object's glow piercing through the unnerving darkness when he sits up. "Leave me alone," he screams.
Jack sees blood splattered across the tile when the object glows his way. "What the..." Springing to his feet, Jack flips on the light. He realizes the red liquid runs the full length of the floor. He then discovers his entire body is drenched in blood. "Did I hurt myself?" Grabbing a washrag from the sink, he wipes the blood away. I don't see anything. How did I get covered in blood?
He tries to recall recent events. The last thing I remember is climbing into bed. So how did I end up in here? Maybe I'm sleepwalking again. That still doesn't explain all this blood. "Why can't I remember?" he cries.
Jack discovers a knife just outside the kitchen door. Where did that come from? Fresh blood drips from the blade when he scoops it up. A priest's face flashes through his mind. Jack pictures the cleric falling to the floor, a knife sticking out of his chest. "What did I do, oh, what did I do?"
He sees the ball glowing beside him. "This is all your doing, isn't it, isn't it," he screams. A robotic voice laughs. Jack glances at the knife, his shirt and then the floor. "What did you make me do, what?"
He notices Rosary beads in the corner. Running over, he scoops them up. "Not Father Mulligan," Jack cries, dropping to the floor. The device chuckles again. "Why did you make me kill him, why?" Tears stream down his bloodstained face as horrifying thoughts race through his head.
"Your soul is mine all mine and you will do as I command."
"No," he screams, darting towards the door. Jack feels himself weakening with every labored step. With all the strength he could muster, he forces himself through the apartment.
The tribal drums get louder; its lights change colors to the beat.
Jack slowly continues on. A bolt of lightning strikes in front of him. Screaming, he springs back.
"You'll never escape me, never." It laughs.
A strong blast of wind sweeps through, forcing Jack to the kitchen. Dropping to his knees, he scurries across the floor. Rubble flies all around him as he inches his way through the dwelling.
Making it to the entryway, he grabs a hold of the knob. A surge of electricity shoots through him, causing him to convulse. Jack tries to let go, but his hand remains glued in place.
"Your soul is mine, all mine. From now until eternity." The evil device laughs as it flies around the room.
***
I wish the case would've turned out better than it did," Mike Palmer says, propping his size twelves on the desk. He's been with the force for nearly 20 years, a detective for ten, a sergeant for the last five. Mike is a Herculean of a man. He stands six feet nine with broad shoulders and a muscular build.
"It would've been nice if Larry and Julia ended up together after all they'd been through," Mary Addison agrees. The power behind her lanky, five foot five frame has taken many by surprise. She transferred to the Atlanta PD after getting a lot of bereavement over a justified shoot. It was love at first sight for her and the sergeant; they married three months later.
"At least we put the culprits behind bars," Toni adds. She's been on the force five years, one year as a detective. She's the smallest of the three. Measuring five feet five in heels. But what she lacks in size she makes up for in intelligence and looks.
"I never would have guessed those four would work together, the way they did."
"Me either, boss."
"Have either of you girls seen Larry?"
Toni glances up from her computer. "I heard he left town."
"That's probably best, considering what he's been through, what he's lost." The sergeant glances at his watch. "It's late, so why don't we call it a day?"
"You're the boss." Toni grabs her stuff off her desk.
Their workstation is a small area off of the main building. Its sparse furnishings. It consists of three desks and standard office chairs. A large whiteboard sits to their right.
Mike reaches for the lights when the phone rings.
"Atlanta PD, Sergeant Palmer speaking... "We're on our way." Hanging up, he turns towards his crew. "Hold on a second, guys."
The two turn around. "What's going on, Sergeant?"
"Dispatch just called and said a priest was found dead at St. Ann's."
"A priest?" Mary exclaims.
"Apparently he was stabbed to death during confessions."
"Who'd do such a horrid thing?" Toni shudders from the thought.
"He'd have to be some sort of monster."
"I just hope we can stop him before he strikes again," Mike says as he and his crew head towards the door.
***
The tall, brick structure sits on a grassy hillside, just off the main road. There's a playground, picnic area to its right, a large gazebo to the left. The school is behind the massive structure.
"What's the scoop, Kevin?" Mike asks as they continue towards the church.
Kevin Connely was hired fresh out of college, fifteen years ago. He became a valuable asset to the force soon after. "The priest was stabbed 18 times and they cut out his tongue."
"They used to cut out tongues as a way to punish liars, treasonists, and blabbermouths. Some countries still do." Mike calls Toni a walking encyclopedia because she knows so much.
"Why would anyone go after a man of the cloth?" Mary questions.
"To silence him in his faith. The way they did back in the sixth century."
"Your knowledge never ceases to amaze, Toni."
"Thank you, sir."
"What else can you tell us, Kevin?"
"That's all we know so far, sir. We did find a lot of prints; we're scanning them now."
"What about a weapon?" the sergeant asks, as he steps into the church. The group follows.
The church is decorated in red and gold. Candle shaped lights run the length of the wall. There's a beautiful cathedral arch in the front. A stained glass window sits further back. There's a statue of Mother Mary on one side, Jesus on the other. An activity scene lies in the middle.
"No weapon but by the looks of the stab wounds, I'd guess it to be a hunting knife. The ME can give you more specifics once she gets him to the lab."
"Who found him?"
"She did, sir." Kevin points across the room.
They see an elderly lady crying on the pew when they turn around. She's a short, rounded woman wearing a long, slate-blue dress with a white cotton sweater over top. Her long, gray hair is pinned neatly at the base of her neck.
"She said she was lighting candles when she noticed his body hanging out of the box."
"Was there anyone else in the church?"
"No, and she said she doesn't remember anyone leaving."
The sergeant turns towards his wife. "Get her name and number before she leaves."
"Yes, Sergeant." Mary walks over and sits beside her.
"Does the church have any cameras?"
"I didn't find any, but I'll look again."
"Check the businesses."
"I'm on it, sir."
"And Toni..."
"Yes, sir."
"Pull the traffic cams too."
"Copy that, Sergeant."
***
Jack wakes up on the bathroom floor; blood encircling his entire body. "What did I do now?" he cries, scanning the gory scene.
By Mistydawn
Jack finds this strange object. He’s warned about its demonic powers when he takes it to the shop. Jack tries to get rid of it by throwing in the fire and a wood chipper, but it keeps returning. It’s now possessed his soul. He wakes up to find a bloody knife, rosary beads belonging to his priest. He tries to escape from the satanic object only to wake up and find blood all around him.
The detectives discover a body at St. Ann’s church He was stabbed 18 times and his tongue cut out. They found fingerprints, but didn't find a weapon.
Mary weaves through the growing cluster towards their workstation on the far side of the room. It's only seven-thirty and the squad room is already packed.
Atlanta PD is unlike the small southern town she came from. Mary misses Helen and often wishes she could return. Deep in her heart, she knows she can never go home again.
Convinced that Mary's shooting was racial discrimination, the citizens protested for justice. When the march didn't work, they started making threats on her life. With a target on her back, her only safe choice was to leave.
Mary sees the sergeant and her partner talking to the forensic tech. when she rounds the corner. I can bring everyone up to speed, she thinks, quickly closing the gap. "Sergeant, guys, I just got word that two more priests were found stabbed to death in Monroe."
"Two, Mary?"
"I'm afraid so, sir, and from what I've been told, it sounds like it's the same guy."
Removing his glasses, Mike plops them down on his desk. "Does the captain know?"
"He just got off the phone with the Monroe PD." She glances at her notes. "They said a witness saw a tall, white male, around 6'3 with sandy blond hair enter the church around 3 am."
"Did he say what kind of clothes he was wearing?"
"He thinks it was jeans and a T-shirt but he wasn't completely certain; he only saw him briefly. They asked him what kind of vehicle he was driving, and the witness said he didn't see him get out of a car and he doesn't remember one parked near the church."
Toni looks up from her computer a frustrated look on her face. "I hope they'll have better luck than me."
"You didn't find anything on the traffic cam, Toni?"
"I found six cars, but all the drivers have an alibi. I'm going further back, see what I can find."
"The ME said the weapon was a standard hunting knife, so, I'm going to visit sports shops, see if I can locate our perp that away," Kevin adds.
"What about the blood?"
"It was the victims. We found a bloody shoe print at the back of the church. My team is working on the specifics now."
"Keep me informed."
"I will, Sergeant."
"I just discovered two more cars heading towards the church."
"Follow up on that."
"I will, sir." Toni starts to type the plates in the system when a thought occurs to her. "If the murderer came in from the north he wouldn't have to go through the light."
"I'm already ahead of you," Tom Hagman says, plopping some tapes on her desk. Tom transferred from Savanna eight years ago. "This is everything between here and Monroe."
Mike skims through the vast collection. "It's going to take us days to get through these."
"We'll have to have all-day binge-a thon for weeks," Toni adds.
"Free snacks for anyone who helps," the sergeant announces. The officers busy themselves with other chores in hopes they won't get picked.
"I'll help, Serg." A heavyset man volunteers, as he crosses the room. Don Myers has been a beat cop for ten years and is studying for his detective exam in the fall. "I'm all about my food, especially when it's free," he adds as he rubs his distended belly.
Mike glances at the large assortment of videos. "Let's get this over with," he sighs.
"Mike, Mary, wait," Dr. Allison yells over the roar of the crowd. The two turn to see the Medical examiner walking towards them.
Susan Allison has been their ME for over twenty-five years; known to be one of the best in her field.
"Do you have something for us?"
"I have quite a few things, actually." Pushing a loose strand of hair from her face, she begins. "The murder weapon was a six-inch single blade which is consistent with any standard hunting knife." She hands Mike a picture of their victim. "The wounds go left to right meaning your perp is right-handed. The placement and depth of the wounds tell me he's at least 6 foot three and that he has a lot of upper body strength, pent up rage. Lastly, I have this." She hands Mike a piece of paper. "These names came up when we ran the prints."
"I'll start eliminating them according to what we've been told, sergeant."
"The rest of us will work on the tapes."
***
Jack sees fresh blood splatter on his clothes when he lifts himself off the floor. He then discovers a bloody knife in his hand. "Not again." He tosses the weapon across the room. The blade slides across the checkered tile, stopping mere inches from the demonic device. "Why did you make me kill, why?"
"Your soul is mine to do with as I wish."
"I won't do it again, I won't, I won't," he screams, running for the door.
Jack starts to pull the barrier open when he hears a familiar voice in the other room.
"Is anyone home?" Rick asks as he continues through the apartment. He and Jack have been best friends for years.
I have to get rid of him fast. Jack scans the bathroom, hoping to come up with an idea. The mint green lavatory contains the basic furnishings and a mix of his and her toiletries. The only window consists of a small rollout to the right of the sink. Maybe he'll leave If I don't answer.
"Are you in there?" Rick asks, knocking on the bathroom door.
"Don't come in." Jack runs over and clicks the lock in place.
"You're not banging a girl in there, are you?" Rick smiles, knowing that'd be just like his friend.
"That's something you'd do, not me."
"Every chance I get." He chuckles. "So who don't you want me to meet? Is it the girl from the grocery store or maybe the one from the mall. She's had her eye on you for some time."
Jack wads his fist into a ball. "It's no one, alright."
"You don't have to get so mad about it, geez."
"Do you need something, Rick?"
Jen called me crying her eyes out, says that you two are broken up for good."
"For good, huh?" He and Jen has had an off again on again romance for nearly two years.
"That's what she said. So what pissed her off this time?"
"She thinks I don't want to meet her parents."
"Do you?"
"Not really, but I didn't purposely stay away."
"I'm sure you two will work it out, you always do."
"I hope so, man."
"I'm going to grab a sandwich, alright?"
"No, don't go in there."
"Why?"
"I got sick in there too."
"A little puke doesn't bother me."
In a state of panic, Jack throws the door open. Seeing his friend's bloody appearance, Rick jumps back.
Jack glances at his clothes and then at his frightened friend. "I... I can explain."
"Kill him, kill him," a deep robotic voice chants from inside the room.
Rick looks down to find a glowing ball rolling towards him. "What the...?"
"Kill him." The device says again.
"I won't do it, I won't," He looks down to find the bloody knife lodged in the palm of his hand. Horrid images start flashing in his mind. Jack first envisions a priest dressed in his scarlet, white robe. He then pictures himself stabbing the clergyman over and over again. Jack glances at his friend as tears stream down his face. "Please, not him, not my best friend."
"I ordered you to destroy him, so, do it, now." Its lights flash an array of vibrant colors; the tribal drums begin to beat.
Jack feels his hand rise into a striking position as his body moves towards his friend. He tries to fight the demonic powers but soon discovers the ball has complete control. "Run," Jack yells as he continues towards his friend.
"Help me, please, somebody help me," Rick screams as he darts down the hall.
"Stop him," The demonic device replies, forcing Jack to pick up speed.
Jack tries to toss the weapon from his hand, but the knife remains firmly in place.
"Kill him, kill him," the ball chants again.
Tripping over a small area rug, Rick lands mere inches from the door. He turns over to find Jack standing over top him.
"Please, Jack, please don't do this."
"I'm so sorry, man." Jack plunges the knife deep into his friend's chest."
| Author Notes |
Mike Palmer cop for 20 years sergeant 5
Mary Addison Palmer Transferred to Atlanta PD. Married to Mike Toni Jenson cop for 5 years, detective for 1 Kevin Connely forensic tech He was hired out of college 15 years ago. Tom Hagman Transferred from Savana eight years ago. Susan Allison, ME Been with the station for over 25 years |
By Mistydawn
Jack finds this strange object. He's warned about its demonic powers when he takes it to the shop. Jack tries to get rid of it by throwing in the fire and a wood chipper, but it keeps returning. It's now possessed his soul. He wakes up to find a bloody knife, rosary beads belonging to his priest. He tries to escape from the satanic object only to wake up and find blood all around him.
The detectives discover a body at St. Ann's church. He was stabbed 18 times and his tongue cut out. They found fingerprints but didn't find a weapon.
The morning sun shimmers brightly through the sheer ivory curtains, magnifying the horrific scene. A bright, red liquid slowly oozes across the entryway, staining the checkered tile a crimson red.
Jack is kneeling over Rick's cold, lifeless body, tears streaming down his blood-streaked face. "Why me, why did you have to choose me?" he sobs, laying his head on his beloved friend's chest. He used every bit of strength left in him to fight the demonic being, but despite his best efforts, it had won in the end.
"You released my trapped souls and now you must pay."
"I won't kill again, I won't, I won't," Jack screams.
"I have control over your body to do with as I wish."
We'll just see about that. Scooping up the object, he heads off towards the kitchen. Jack sees a refrigerator against the far wall, an oven on the opposite side. They won't work, he thinks, as he continues to look around.
"You'll never destroy me, never." The satanic device laughs, glowing happily in his hand.
Seeing the microwave in the corner, he runs over and tosses the object inside. "Let's see how you fare this." Slamming the door, he punches a few buttons; the appliance roars to life.
Sparks shoot off the metal plates as smoke rises from the ball. Jack hears it sizzle followed by a loud pop. Peeking through the window, he finds the object severed into tiny bits. "I finally did it." Smiling, he walks away.
Jack just reaches the edge of the carpet when a spine-chilling laugh thunders through the room. He spins around to find thick black smoke billowing through the open door. Jack's jaw drops open. The fog quickly clears, leaving an unscathed object in its wake.
"No," Jack cries, dropping to his knees.
"I'm the almighty Satan and you'll never destroy me," the demonic device states. A bright red beam shoots out of the microwave, hitting Jack in the chest. Gasping for air, he collapses on the floor.
***
The sergeant finds Toni staring intently at her computer screen when he rounds the corner. After hours of reviewing surveillance, he and the group decided to take a much-needed break.
"How's your investigation coming along, detective?"
Toni looks up from the screen. "You'll never believe what I just found." She hands him a piece of paper. It contained a list of names, dates, case numbers and a brief summary.
Mike quickly skims through the report. "What is this?" he asks as he continues to read on.
"Those are unsolved murders in the Massachusetts area. They all have the same MO as our recent killings."
Mike flips through the pages. "How many are we talking about, here?"
"I've found ten so far; dating as far back as June of 99."
"Ten murders and he was never apprehended?"
"No, and with their lack of evidence I can understand why." She points to the summary column on the right side of the page.
"You didn't find anything useful?"
"Just that the weapon has been a standard hunting knife."
"Keep working on it, see what you can find."
"I will, sergeant." She pulls her curly blond hair into a ponytail, and then pushes back her sleeves; A ritual she often does before she digs into a case.
"Did anything come up with the prints?"
"All four suspects have an alibi for the time of the murder."
"Guess I better get back to the traffic cams then." Not looking forward to the task at hand, Mike slowly trudges away.
"Sergeant, wait, I think I found something." Her lips move as she skims through the report.
Mike walks back over. "What does it say?"
"It's a vague description of the perp."
"How vague?"
"According to a witness, the guy is a tall, muscular man in his early twenties. He stands around 6'4, he had short brown hair and brown eyes and was thought to work construction, because he had paint splatter on his clothes."
"When was this?"
Toni scans the report for a date. "May 1999."
Mike glances towards the ceiling as he calculates the age. "He'd be in his mid 40's."
"That sounds about right, sir."
Mike waves his detective over.
"What's going on, Sergeant?"
"I want you to call the construction companies, see if any of their employees fit this description." Grabbing a pen and paper, he writes down what he was told.
Mary glances at the note. "Right away, sir." She smiles, happy to be relieved of video duty.
"Toni, I want you to keep digging into the cases see what else you can find. I'll call the Eureka PD, tell them what we found and find out if they have a new lead." Mike starts to walk away when another thought occurs to him, he turns back around, an inquisitive look on his face.
"What's wrong, sergeant?"
"Serial killers don't generally take a twenty-year hiatus."
"So you're thinking this might be a copycat?"
"Or he was incarcerated." The Sergeant turns towards the crowd. "Myers."
The officer walks over to him. "Yes, sir."
"I want you to call the state prison and see if someone that fits this description was recently released." He points to Mary's paper.
"I'm on it, sir."
The sergeant starts to dial a number when the captain approaches them, he puts the receiver down.
"Dispatch just received a domestic disturbance call from someone at Lotus Apartments, patrol is headed to the scene now."
"Something is always going on out there," Toni shakes her head. She remembers being dispatched to the apartments several times a week when she worked the beat.
"With all of the questionable characters that live out there, I can understand why."
"Let's get over there, see what we've got."
I***
A middle-aged woman is waiting for them on the steps when they pull into the apartments. Her messy, gray-streaked hair is pulled loosely into a bun at the top of her head. Her filthy, threadbare clothes hang off her skeletal frame. She's trying to smoke a cigarette, but her hands are so shaky, she can't get it up to her mouth.
It's a shame people put themselves through that, Toni thinks, shaking her head.
Seeing the squad car pull up, the terrified lady runs towards them. "Oh, thank god you're here," She nervously glances towards the building and then back at them.
"What's going on?" Toni questions?
"I heard two men screaming, some glass broke and then everything went quiet."
"When was this?"
"About ten minutes ago?"
"Which apartment?"
"4F."
The sergeant and his team cautiously work their way up the squeaky stairs.
"I don't hear anything, sir," Toni announces.
"Ready, guys?" His team nods. The sergeant bangs on the door. "Berryville PD, open up." The apartment remains quiet. He bangs again. "Berryville PD, we're coming in." He kicks in the door. The rotten wood splits in two as it crashes against the wall. Mike sees a lifeless body a few feet away. A bright red liquid encompasses the battered corpse.
Toni feels for a pulse. She glances up, shaking her head. "He's gone, sir."
"Go, go," Mike orders, motioning his crew in. The team storms through the door.
Mike glances the front room, hoping he can figure out what's going on. The apartment's furnishings consisted of a couch, coffee table, and a chair; a flat screen TV on the wall. The only picture was of a young couple in front of a Ferris Wheel. I wonder who this is? He's studying the photo when Toni approaches him.
"Our victim's name is Rick Duncan. From what I can tell, sir, the man was stabbed 18 times. Six times in the chest, six times in the face and six times in the neck, like the others."
"Is he a priest?"
"Hardly, he has a few priors for drug possession with intent. He was released on early parole a few months back."
"So maybe he and the killer were cellmates."
"I'll look into it, sir."
"Do you happen to know this guy?"
Toni glances at the photo in his hands. "His name is Jack Miller, I arrested him a while back for a drunk and disorderly." Toni pauses for a second. "I believe this was his place."
"It still is." Mary shows them a piece of mail.
"I want an APB out on him and his car."
"Yes, sir."
Don approaches him. "There's blood all over the bathroom, sir."
"There's blood in the kitchen too," a second officer adds.
"Get forensics in here to process the scene, call the ME and find his next of kin."
"Yes, sir."
Characters
Jack Miller, Construction worker, he found the ball
Jen, Jack's girlfriend
Rick Duncan, Jack's best friend
Atlanta PD
Mike Palmer cop for 20 years sergeant 5
Mary Addison Palmer Transferred to Atlanta PD. Married to Mike
Toni Jenson cop for 5 years, a detective for 1
Kevin Connely forensic tech He was hired out of college 15 years ago.
Don Myers, beat cop ten years. He's taking detective exam in the fall
Tom Hagman Transferred from Savana eight years ago.
Susan Allison, ME Been with the station for over 25 years
By Mistydawn
Summary
Jack finds this strange object. He's warned about its demonic powers when he takes it to the shop. Jack tries to get rid of it by throwing in the fire and a wood chipper, but it keeps returning. It's now possessed his soul. He wakes up to find a bloody knife, rosary beads belonging to his priest. He tries to escape from the satanic object only to wake up and find blood all around him. The demonic object forces him to kill his friend.
The detectives discover a body at St. Ann's church. He was stabbed 18 times and his tongue cut out. They found fingerprints, but didn't find a weapon. They find a man with the same amount of stab wounds at Jack's apartment.
The sergeant is doing a walk-through of Jack's apartment, hoping he can find something that'll shed a little light on the harrowing crime. His detectives are questioning Jack's neighbors, hoping to figure out where he might go. The temperature has reached the high nineties, which adds to the high tension. Citizens on this side of town have little regard for the law.
Mike is admiring Jack's collection of baseball trophies when Tom steps into the room.
At twenty-two, Tom is the youngest member of the force. He joined the police academy fresh out of high school claiming he wanted to make a difference in the world. After surviving such a horrific childhood, Mike can understand why. "Sir, we just found Jack's car parked in the lot around back. There appears to be blood smears across the driver seat, on the steering wheel, and across the dash."
"I want it taken to the station for processing. Check the security cameras, see if he left with anybody and what direction they were headed."
"Yes, sir, and sir, this fell out when we opened the door." He holds up a clear plastic bag of bloody rosary beads.
Mike points to the container. "Be sure to tag it and send it to the lab."
"I'll get right on it, sir."
The sergeant pulls his phone from his pocket and punches in a few numbers. "Mary, it's Mike, I want you to get Jack's picture out to all the precincts, and alert public transportation to be on the lookout for our guy."
***
Jack opens his eyes and groggily glances around. He first sees the tall cathedral ceilings above him. He then notices the fancy chandeliers elegantly hanging from its sturdy rafters. Jack discovers a row of church pews in front of him and off to his side when he glances around. How did I get in here? Sitting up, he continues to look around.
Jack sees a priest in a long black robe at the front of the church. He's a small man in both size and stature. His thinning gray hair and the vast amount of wrinkles suggests he's in his mid-sixties. A thin, pasty-looking woman is on his right and a frail little boy on his left. Both dressed in rags. Jack watches as both the minister and the woman light a prayer candle. Turning towards her, the priest takes her bony hands in his. He bows his head and says a quick prayer, the lady tearfully nods. He glances up and says a few more words. The sickly woman wipes the tears from her face, grabs the toddler's hand and leaves.
Jack recalls he and his mama doing the same thing as he watches the scene unfold. His dad had fallen gravely ill, and his mother was doing her best to care for him, despite her faltering health. After losing both parents that winter, Jack vowed to never set foot inside a church again.
Rising to his feet, Jack mechanically walks towards the front. "Not another one, oh, please don't make me kill again," he tearfully begs as his legs robotically continue towards the priest.
Hearing footsteps behind him, the minister turns around to find a distraught young man headed towards him. "May I pray with you, son?" he asks as he watches the tears stream down the lad's grim face.
"Pulling the knife from his pocket, Jack steps towards the clergyman; his arm raises in the air. "Save yourself, please, mister, save yourself before it forces me to kill," Jack warns.
Seeing the long, sharp blade being lifted into the air, the priest gasps as he takes a step back. "Please don't hurt me, son, please," he begs. He grabs the rosary beads from around his neck and says a quick prayer. "I'll... I'll give you anything you want if... If you put your knife away," he stutters, his eyes glued on the sharp blade.
"We don't want your money; we want your soul." The demonic object replies. The clergyman looks down to find a wooden object glowing by his feet. Frightened, he steps further away.
"Please... Please, don't hurt m... Me, p... Please."
"I'm so sorry," Jack swings his arm down as he closes the gap.
Grabbing hold of his arm, the clergyman struggles to keep the weapon in midair.
Breaking free from his grip, Jack plunges the blade deep into his chest. The clergyman collapses on the floor. "I don't want to do this, I don't," Jack cries. Blood spurts across the room as he thrust the knife into the priest's chest over and over again.
The priest glances into Jack's cold, soulless eyes. "Please forgive him for what he's done." He mutters in a muffled, airy tone. The minister gasps a final time, his eyes roll back; his head turns to the side.
***
We really need a larger building Toni thinks as she glances around the crowded squad room. The desks are arranged in sets of four, two facing the others. This design affords them a little walkway, but it still isn't near enough. Dodging around a horde of officers, she rushes towards the back.
She sees the captain at his desk, Mike alongside him, both staring intently at the computer screen.
"They're like our recent killings," Mike says as Toni taps on the door.
"I hate to interrupt, sir, but..."
The captain glances up from his screen. "Toni, come here and take a look at this." He motions her over.
"What are we looking at, sir?" she asks as she steps up beside him.
"These are the crime scene photos of the unsolved murder cases in Massachusetts. You're right, they're exactly the same, right down to the amount and placement of the wounds.
"And all the early victims were Catholic Priests," Mike adds.
"That's a good start."
"Did you need something, Detective?"
"I wanted to let you know that I've talked to all public transportation. They said they haven't had a guy fitting our description come in today, but they'll keep an eye out for him."
"What about the precincts and the cameras from the apartment building?"
"Mary is faxing photos to local stations and Tom and Don are still reviewing the security footage."
Mary taps on the door. "Captain, Sergeant, you have a call on line two."
"Who is it?"
"It's the Massachusetts PD. They said they're calling about an inquiry you made."
"I bet it has to do with one of their inmates, thank you."
"Anytime, sir."
Picking up the phone, the captain presses the speaker button. "Berryville PD, Captain Monroe speaking."
"We've found two inmates who match your description their names are Adam Gibson and George Henry."
The captain grabs a pen and paper from the top of his desk. "Can I have their socials, date of births, and last known address, please?"
"I can give it to you, but I don't think it'll do you any good."
"Why is that?"
"Both of them were executed in 1995."
"Thank you for looking into the matter for us."
"Sorry, we couldn't be any help."
"I am too." The captain hangs up his phone. "That blows my idea out of the water."
"That quashes all my theories too, sir."
"So how did Jack manage to duplicate their murders right down to the last detail?" Toni questions, glancing at the photos again.
"Maybe he followed the murders and then copied what they'd done?"
"Yeah, maybe."
"We've had copycat killers before." Noticing the questionable look on his crew's face, the captain elaborates. "Look at Eddie Seda, Danny Rolling, Benjamin Darras, and Sarah Edmondson."
"Yeah, but none of them was spot on like Jack is."
"Spot on about what, sir?" Tom asks as he steps through the door.
"The Sergeant and I were discussing copycat killers and how there's always one minor detail that varies from the original murders."
"It's usually something the police department purposely left out."
"Right, except Jack doesn't seem to have any deviations." The captain looks at the crime scene photos again.
"Maye he's the original killer?"
"That's not possible."
"Why is that, sir?"
"The first set of murders occurred when Jack was just a baby."
"Wait, no, Jack is forty-six, see." Tom hands the captain a tablet.
"His dad, Jack Sr. is forty-six, Jack Jr. is only twenty-four," the captain corrects.
"So maybe Jack Sr. is the original killer and Jack Jr. is taking his daddy's place."
"Toni, I want you to run Jack SR. through the system, see what you can find. I want the rest of you out searching the town."
"We're on it, sir."
***
Characters
Jack Miller, Construction worker, he found the ball
Jen, Jack's girlfriend
Rick Duncan, Jack's best friend
Atlanta PD
Mike Palmer cop for 20 years sergeant 5
Mary Addison Palmer Transferred to Atlanta PD. Married to Mike
Toni Jenson cop for 5 years, a detective for 1
Kevin Connely forensic tech He was hired out of college 15 years ago.
Don Myers, beat cop ten years. He's taking detective exam in the fall
Tom Hagman Transferred from Savana eight years ago.
Susan Allison, ME Been with the station for over 25 years
By Mistydawn
Summary
Jack finds this strange object. He's warned about its demonic powers when he takes it to the shop. Jack tries to get rid of it by throwing in the fire and a wood chipper, but it keeps returning. It's now possessed his soul. He wakes up to find a bloody knife, rosary beads belonging to his priest. He tries to escape from the satanic object only to wake up and find blood all around him. The demonic object forces him to kill his friend.
The detectives discover a body at St. Ann's church. He was stabbed 18 times and his tongue cut out. They found fingerprints, but didn't find a weapon. They find a man with the same amount of stab wounds at Jack's apartment.
Opening his eyes, Jack looks around. He discovers he's in his friend's car. He then sees dark red stains on his hands and his clothes. Glancing around, he finds the demonic object glowing happily beside him; a bloody knife between them.
Jack finds a beautiful two-story church in front of him. The ageless building is a breathtaking sight with its dark brick structure; handcrafted stained glass is at the top and on both sides. An elegant light brick walkway leads to the door.
"Your next soul waits," the satanic object urges as Jack continues to glance around.
Sighing, Jack stuffs the knife into his pocket. He starts to reach for the handle when the demonic voice sounds again.
"Take me with you," it orders. Stuffing the device on the opposite side, he trudges towards the church.
Jack first notices a stained glass window in the center of the far wall, a statue of Jesus above it. He then sees a family kneeling at the altar; a priest is on his knees beside them. The clergyman drapes his arm around the grieving woman and says a few words.
"I don't want to do this," Jack whispers. He tries to leave, but discovers his body won't move.
"Do as I say or else," it orders as it forces him down the isles.
The walkway is covered in crimson carpet, freshly polished pews on either side. Jack takes a seat in the very last row and waits.
Wiping the tears from his cheek, the priest heads towards the back. "I'm here for you, son," he sniffles, sitting beside him.
"You need to get out of here, now," Jack warns.
"What?" the priest asks. His eyebrows arch, his mouth drops open; confused about what he'd just heard.
"Get out of here, now." Jack points towards the door.
Hearing the commotion, the family turns around.
"I... I don't understand." The priest rises to his feet.
Jack's pocket begins to vibrate. He looks down to find the device slipping out. "Run, man, run," he warns.
Taking flight, the demonic object rotates towards the cleric. The priest remains frozen against the pew. Four metal blades slide out of the ball as it gets closer.
"No, don't," the young lad screams. Springing from his seat, Jack shoves the object away. The blade slashes the center of his palm; blood begins to pour from his wound.
The ball hisses as it pivots towards the young man. "You are my slave from now until eternity, and you will do as you're told."
"I won't do it, I won't."
A fluorescent green light shoots out of the ball, smacking Jack mid-chest. Its force is so great that his body flies across the room. Air escapes forcefully when he thuds against the door.
***
Mike is searching through the police reports, hoping to find a motive when he sees Tom walking towards him. "I hope he has some good news," he thinks, as he watches the detective weave his way through the officers. "Did you find anything?"
"The security camera shows Jack leaving in a 2002 light green Toyota Corolla and it doesn't look like anyone is with him."
"Find out who the car is registered to."
"I already did, sir, and it came back to the victim."
"Get an APB out on the car, I'll let the captain know what's going on, see what he wants to do." He starts to walk away when he hears his name being called. Mike turns to find an officer running towards him.
"Sergeant, Sergeant, there's been another murder."
"Another one?"
"At St. Paul's Catholic Church."
"In Fayetteville?"
"Yes, sir."
"This guy is all over the map. Let's take a drive over there, find out what's going on."
***
Jack is startled awake by police sirens blaring down the road. I have to get out of here, he thinks as he rises to his feet. His vision becomes cloudy, his head begins to spin. I must have hit harder than I thought. He blinks a few times, hoping to clear his sight. "That's much better." He grabs the latch and throws the barrier open. Jack glances towards the car which now seems miles away. I either make a run for it or spend the rest of my life behind bars. He takes an unsure step. He tries to take another and nearly falls; Jack grabs the banister for support. I have to do this. Halfway down the stairs, Jack glances ahead. He finds four squad cars barreling down the gravel road. I'll never make it out of here now. Jack stumbles back towards the church.
He notices a light colored door in the far corner when he steps inside. Using the pews for support, he scurries towards the exit.
He finds the ball cleaning up the remains when he glances to his right. "You got me into this mess, so help get me out.".
"You got yourself into this mess by disobeying orders, it says as it continues to feast on the remains."
***
The captain decides to look up the two names that Massachusetts PD gave him, hoping a bit of research will answer a few questions.
The first guy is George Henry. He's a career criminal who spent most of his life behind bars. Like most repeat offenders he was a drifter who seldom held down a job for more than a week. Why work for a living when you can peddle drugs? The captain thinks as he reads through the list of assets confiscated during his last arrest. A Lamborghini and a Porsche, I'm in the wrong business.
Bringing up another tab he types in the second name and begins to read. They're completely opposite, he concludes as he continues to scan the report.
Unlike the first convict, he held a job at the local construction company for years. His first conviction was arson at the ripe old age of thirty-three. Not the typical starting age for a criminal, the captain thinks as he continues to read on. He set a trash can on fire claiming he needed to get rid of a demonic device. His lawyer requested a psych eval; the courts reluctantly agreed. After a series of extensive tests, the doctor found a tumor on his brain. He concluded that this small growth was the reason for his psychosis. His trial was held over until after the surgery when he was mentally competent to proceed. Being found not guilty, he was set free.
His second arrest was murder in the first, a year later. Upon examination, they concluded the tumor had returned. Unlike his first conviction, the trial continued despite the diagnosis. He was sentenced to death. "He was an honest, hard-working citizen, then his tumor ruined it all."
"Who are you talking about, sir?" the officer questions as he steps into the room.
The captain finds Kevin at the door when he glances up from his computer. "One of the suspects. It seems the growth on his brain turned him into a hardened criminal. With this being a highly publicized case I'm surprised more attorneys haven't jumped on that bandwagon." He chuckles, remembering some of the lame-brained defenses he'd heard in the past.
"Maybe they haven't found a doctor willing to lie."
"That's possible, I guess. Do you need something, Kevin?"
"I wanted to let you know about the evidence we found at the apartment, sir."
The captain closes his computer. Tossing his glasses on his desk, he leans back in his chair. "Go ahead."
"The blood matches the two priests. The rosary beads belong to them as well."
"So Jack is responsible for all of the murders and not just his friend."
"Seems like it, sir, I ran his name through the system but nothing came up."
"Just like the man I was talking about." He glances at the computer a curious expression on his face. Is that a coincidence or a lead. He opens his computer.
"'How is that, sir?"
"He never had a single conviction, until he set a trash can on fire; claiming he had to get rid of the demonic object. Said it was forcing him to do evil things."
"Did he say what they were?"
"It wasn't in his statement, but he was arrested for murder a year later stating the ball forced him to kill. His doctor said it was an illusion created by the growth."
"Maybe Jack has a tumor too."
"Look into his medical history and see what you can find."
"I'll try, sir, but you know how the doctors are with the privacy laws."
"I'll call the DA and see if he can get us a warrant." He starts to reach for the phone when another thought comes to mind. "Did you find anything on his father?"
"He was deployed overseas during the first murder spree."
Characters
Jack Miller, Construction worker, he found the ball.
Jen, Jack's girlfriend.
Rick Duncan, Jack's best friend.
Atlanta PD
Mike Palmer cop for 20 years sergeant 5.
Mary Addison Palmer, transferred to Atlanta PD. Married to Mike.
Toni Jenson cop for 5 years, a detective for 1.
Kevin Connely forensic tech He was hired out of college 15 years ago.
Don Myers, beat cop ten years. He's taking the detective exam in the fall.
Tom Hagman Transferred from Savana eight years ago.
Susan Allison, ME. She's been with the station for over 25 years.
By Mistydawn
Summary
Jack finds this strange object. He's warned about its demonic powers when he takes it to the shop. Jack tries to get rid of it by throwing in the fire and a wood chipper, but it keeps returning. It's now possessed his soul. He wakes up to find a bloody knife, rosary beads belonging to his priest. He tries to escape from the satanic object only to wake up and find blood all around him. The demonic object forces him to kill his friend.
The detectives discover a body at St. Ann's church. He was stabbed 18 times and his tongue cut out. They found fingerprints but didn't find a weapon. They find a man with the same amount of stab wounds at Jack's apartment.
Jack finds himself at a church where he's nearly caught.
Infuriated with the demonic device, Jack snatches the round object off the floor. Bloody remains drip onto the carpet. The stench of fresh blood and decomposing flesh makes Jack gag. A warm, foul liquid rises to his mouth and then threatens its escape.
Several cars pull into the drive as he tries to contain the vomit. I can't get sick now, I just can't. He swallows the nasty bile that floods his mouth as he continues on.
"Put me down, put me down," the demonic ball demands.
"Gladly." Smiling, Jack tosses it into a bowl of what he hopes to be holy water. "Take that you satanic beast." He shoves the ball down as far as it will go.
The cool, clear liquid sloshes over the sides as black smoke rises from the container; the fog expands upward and then hangs heavily in the air.
The thrashing stops, the smoke slowly dissipates into the stagnant air.
I'm finally free. Jack turns to leave when he hears a familiar voice behind him; he spins around.
"You'll never destroy me, never." The object utters, in a slow, elongated drawl.
Jack watches the demonic ball laboriously rise from the bowl; its rounded figure is severely mangled into an odd hexagon shape. The ball tries to take flight; it sputters and then falls into the container. The object tries again.
"Not this time, you don't." Jack grabs the neighboring pitcher and dumps its contents over the ball.
"No," it screams as it falls into the bowl. Smoke barrels from the dish as the object slowly melts away.
Hearing heavy footsteps outside the front door, Jack darts towards the back. A horde of cops storms through the entranceway as he pulls the wooden barrier to.
***
The Decatur police are loading their equipment into their van as the Atlanta PD pulls onto the scene.
"That was quick." Mike points to the officer who's removing police tape from the surrounding area. This is usually an indication the investigation is complete.
"A little too quick if you ask me." Mary walks towards the captain. Knowing there's animosity between them, she practices what she was going to say. She hopes her speech will curb his hostility. at least for the remainder of this case.
"I'm Detective Palmer and I'm..."
"I know who you are." The captain quibbles, turning away. Mary grabs a hold of his arm. He spins around as he jerks his extremity away.
"I know the departments have had their share of altercations but.."
"Altercations, that's putting it mildly," he laughs. Turning, he heads towards his crew.
Who does he think he is, dismissing me like that. She takes a deep breath to suppress her anger before she tries again. "This perp has killed in Atlanta, Tucker, Scottsdale and now here. So I think it would be in everyone's best interest if we put our differences aside."
"I'm well aware of the other murders, Detective and if my department finds anything we think will be helpful, we will certainly let you know. In the meantime, I advise you and your inept crew to stay out of my way; let the professionals do their job."
"You might want to advise your so-called professionals to look for a guy by the name of Jack Miller. He was last seen driving a light green 2002 Toyota Corolla."
"Jack Miller?" he asks as he spins around.
"We have proof that he's responsible for all the murders. You would've known this if you'd bothered to read the fax, assuming you can read." Turning on her heels, she heads towards the car. She starts to climb in when another thought comes to mind. If he isn't aware, I bet the sheriff's office isn't either. She takes her phone from her pocket and dials a number. "This is DetectivePalmer, from the Atlanta PD. I wanted to let you know that we have a murder suspect headed your way. His name is Jack Miller and he's driving a light green four-door 2002 Toyota Corolla." ... "We do have an APB out on him, sir, but the local police department doesn't seem to be aware. So I'm calling to make sure your men are advised of the situation." ... "Didn't you receive a fax?" ... "Oh, I see, well I hope you're able to get it fixed soon." She takes the notebook from her pocket. "The license plate number is Charley, apple, echo, delta 1482." ... "I appreciate your help, sir. We will, sir, goodbye." She turns to find Mike behind her.
"I've talked to a few of the officers while you were trying to play nice." He glances over at the captain.
"He doesn't know what the word means. She mean-mugs him. The captain smiles. Pompous jerk.
"I can tell."
"So, what did you find out?"
"They said the witness heard screaming from the back of the church. She turns to see a tall, thin guy stabbing the priest."
"Can she describe the murderer?"
"They had her sit down with a sketch artist." He hands her a picture.
"That's definitely Jack. But why did he drive to Decatur to target this particular priest?"
"You've got me. Did you get anywhere with him?" he asks.
"He wasn't even aware of the APB. So I called the sheriff's office, told them what was going on. They asked me to send an email with all the information because their fax is down."
"It looks like we've done all we can here." Mike smiles. "Unless you want to go for round two." He teases, nudging her arm.
"I'm good." Mike chuckles. Hearing the captain's voice behind her. Mary spins around.
"How dare you pull rank on me," he barks as he stomps towards her.
"I didn't pull shit on you," she mouths back.
"Why did I get a call from the commissioner, then?"
"The commissioner called?" she asks, trying not to smile.
"He was told that I wasn't doing my job."
"Sounds like I'm not the only one who's questioning your abilities. With your soaring crime rate, I can't say I'm one bit surprised."
His face turns a crimson red. "I'll have you know my department is running better now than it has in years."
"There's a scary thought." She starts to walk away when another comment comes to mind. Should I? She looks over at Mike, he gives her a stern, don't do it look. Why not? Smiling she turns around. "We'll let you know when the professionals catch the perp, assuming you're still in office."
"You're going to be sorry for this, you and your crew." The captain storms away.
"Did you get the threat on your body cam, Mary?"
"Every last word." She smiles.
***
Jack is scrunched down behind a row of boxes in the small, dusty room. He thought it led to the outside but it took him to a storage closet instead. The overpowering scent of mildew drifts through the drafty area. This strong, musty smell takes his breath away.
Dust particles float past him making his nose itch. He wiggles it but that only makes things worse. They might hear me if I move. He twitches his snout again. Oh, darn it. He carefully moves his hand up and scratches his irritated nostrils. Much better.
Jack notices a water pipe above him when he glances around. He watches the drops form and then plunks to the dusty wood floor. This repetitive action plays havoc on his bladder. Jack turns his attention elsewhere.
He's looking for a better place to hide when he hears a horde of officers storm through the church. His entire body begins to tremble. Please don't let them find me, please don't let them find me, he silently begs, hunkering down as far as he can go.
A crippling pain shoots across his midsection when he crouches down; urine threatens its escape. His body tenses up as he fights to keep it in. The pain becomes intense. I can't take this anymore, I just can't. The scent of fresh urine hits him as hot liquid trickles down his leg. He glances down at the puddle below him. At least I'm not hurting anymore. He cautiously exchanges his soiled clothes for some lying on top of a box. Finding another hiding place he scrunches back down.
The horrid murders begin to play in his mind. He first pictures his victims staring at him in disbelief as he thrusts the sharp blade deep into his neck. He then envisions the priest tumbling helplessly onto the ground; blood oozes all around the clergy as he lays gurgling in the dirt. Jack watches as horror obtrudes his caring eyes. Taking his final breath, the victim's head falls to the side.
"No, no, stop it, stop it." Jack yells, springing up from the boxes.
"Hold it right there," an officer orders as he takes a shooters stance.
"Don't shoot, please, don't shoot," Jack yells, throwing his hands in the air.
***
Characters
Jack Miller, Construction worker, he found the ball
Jen, Jack's girlfriend
Rick Duncan, Jack's best friend
Atlanta PD
Mike Palmer cop for 20 years sergeant 5
Mary Addison Palmer Transferred to Atlanta PD. Married to Mike
Toni Jenson cop for 5 years, a detective for 1
Kevin Connely forensic tech He was hired out of college 15 years ago.
Don Myers, beat cop ten years. He's taking detective exam in the fall
Tom Hagman Transferred from Savana eight years ago.
Susan Allison, ME Been with the station for over 25 years
By Mistydawn
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
Summary
Jack finds this strange object. He's warned about its demonic powers when he takes it to the shop. Jack tries to get rid of it by throwing in the fire and a wood chipper, but it keeps returning. It's possessed his soul and is forcing him to kill.
Piecing the evidence together, the detectives discover their killer's identity.
***
Realizing he has a nun at gunpoint, Kevin shakenly takes a step back. Forgive me, father, he silently prays as he puts his gun away. He glances towards the nun still cowering in the corner. 'I’m so sorry, sister, I didn’t know it was you.”
My plan worked. Jack smiles inwardly as he adjusts his habit. How do the nuns stand these things? He tugs on the restrictive material. "I'm... I'm so glad you're here," he replies in a feminine voice as he steps away from his hideout.
"Did you see what happened?"
"Yes, yes, I… I saw the whole gory thing."
"I want you to start at the beginning and tell me what happened." Kevin takes a pen and paper from his pocket.
"I was tidying the church when a young man walks through the door. The next thing I know, he's telling us to get out. Everyone was so shocked by his outburst we didn’t know what to do."
"What happened next?"
"A circular object flew out of the young man's pocket and cut the priest into tiny bits. I was so afraid I’d be next, that I ran in here to hide.” Jack suddenly recalls the family at the front of the church. He turns towards the detective, a look of horror on his face. “Is the family alright?"
"They’re shaken, but they weren’t injured.”
"Oh, praise the Lord." He makes a sign of the cross, then looks up and whispers amen.
“You said a circular object flew out of the man’s pocket?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it’s the truth.” He sees the skeptical look on the officer's face. “I’m sure the family saw it too.”
“What did it look like?”
“It was shaped like a ball with blades on all sides.”
“Can you describe the young man who tried to warn you?"
"He's a short, heavy-set man with long black hair and brown eyes. I think he was Hispanic, but I’m not completely sure." That’ll throw off their investigation, Jack thinks, trying to contain a smile.
Kevin flips through his notes and reads. Finished, he glances up at the nun a perplexed look on his face.
“Is something the matter, officer?”
“There’s a little discrepancy between the descriptions but I’m sure the others are wrong," he quickly blurts out, feeling uncomfortable questioning the word of a nun. “What did he have on?"
"Jeans and a t-shirt. His shirt was black and it had some sort of strange inscription on it."
"What else can you remember about him?”
"I really didn't get a good look."
"Could you describe him to a sketch artist, so we can get a better idea?"
"Can I please use the lady’s room first? All this excitement has really done a number on my bladder." Jack dances around.
"I'll see if I can find the sketch artist while you’re gone."
Jack glances around to find everyone is busy with the task at hand. Now's my chance, he thinks, dashing towards the back. Jack reaches the door; a female officer steps up beside him.
Realizing he’s about to leave, she grabs ahold of his arm. "Sister, wait, we need to ask you a few questions before you go."
I almost made it. Frustrated, he turns around. "What?"
"We need to talk to you before you leave." The officer quickly explains.
"I'm only going to the restroom, dear."
"Outside?"
Jack turns to see the open field in front of him. How am I going to explain this? Laughing nervously, he pivots towards the cop. "All of this commotion has me so upset I've forgotten which door leads where." He anxiously laughs again.
---
Kevin is searching for the sketch artist when Bill approaches him. This bright young lad is the newest addition to the forensic team. Doing so well at only 22, Kevin knows the lad is destined to go far.
"Sir, I found this in a bowl, but I don't know what it is," Bill holds up an odd-shaped object. "I figured you might know since you're Catholic and all." He hands it over.
Kevin studies it for a minute. "I have no idea what this is." He recalls what the nun had said as he continues to turn the object around in his hand. This doesn't look like what she described. "Where did you find this?" he asks, trying to read the Latin phrase sketched in its metal plate.
"Over there." Bill points to a large bowl on a white marble pedestal in the far corner of the room.
"What would a creepy object like this be doing in a bowl of holy water?"
"Are you sure it’s holy water, sir?”
“Pretty sure, why?”
“I didn’t know holy water is red.”
“It’s not.”
“Well, the liquid in the bowl is.”
Curiosity getting the best of him, Kevin walks across the room. He discovers the liquid to be a light red. "Maybe the color came from this, this thing,” he says as he continues to examine it; a look of disdain crosses his face. “Go ahead and bag it, sent it to the lab."
"Yes, sir."
Kevin starts to walk away when he thinks of a joke. Smiling, he pivots back around. "Hey, Bill."
Stopping in mid-motion the officer turns around. "Yes, sir."
"You know how they make holy water, right?"
"No, sir, I don't."
"They boil the hell out of it."
"Boil the hell out of it, that's funny, sir.” He laughs.
---
Jack is nervously scanning the church's cluttered bathroom hoping he can find a way to escape when someone knocks on the door. "Just a minute," he says, in a woman’s voice. He runs to the window and tries to open it, but the frame wouldn't budge. He glances up to find the lock secured in place. He unfastens the rusty hinge and tries again; the barrier still wouldn't move. Why won't it open? he asks as he quickly scans the pane. Jack soon realizes it's painted shut. "Just wonderful." He glances around for another idea.
That's the only window in here and the air duct is too small to climb through. He glances up to find the ceiling is one long piece of wood. It looks like it’s my only option. He glances towards the window again. I either need to pry it loose or break the glass. He glances down at his hands. I’ll be a mangled mess. He’s searching for another option when someone knocks on the door. "I'll be out in a minute."
"I really need to go." A squeaky voice replies.
"I'm almost finished." Grabbing a plunger, he runs back to the painted glass. I hope this works. He starts to swing it around when a thought comes to mind. The police will barge through the door as soon as it shatters. There has to be another way out of here, there just has to be. He leans against the wall; the tall barrier shifts a tiny bit. “What the hell?" Jack scuffles around, trying to maintain his balance. He turns to find the partition slightly ajar. It’s a fake wall? He pushes on the divider again. It travels a little further and stops. Come on you stupid thing, move. He tries again. His feet slide backward, but the barrier wouldn't budge. Jack starts to try again when he hears a light tap on the door.
"There's a whole bunch of people waiting for the bathroom."
"Let me dry my hands." Jack pushes on the wall again. He looks down to find the barrier's corner is caught on the edge of a fern. Jack scoots the potted plant aside. He starts to turn around when another thought comes to mind; he glances at the interior door again. It’d give me more time to escape. He rolls the decoration to the barrier and then returns to the task at hand. One hard shove gives him the space he needs.
Now to see what I’m about to walk in to. He grabs the phone from under the habit and turns the flashlight on. He discovers a set of concrete steps that leads down to a dark, eerie unknown. I bet this used to be an old railroad tunnel. A documentary about haunted passages quickly comes to mind. Shivering, he pushes the thought aside.
Someone pounds on the door harder than before. “Hurry it up in there.”
I either face the ghosts or what’s on the other side. Jack imagines himself surrounded by a horde of officers, each with their guns drawn. Taking a big gulp of courage, Jack nervously steps through the passage; the banging starts in again.
Characters
Jack Miller, Construction worker, he found the ball
Jen, Jack's girlfriend
Rick Duncan, Jack's best friend
Atlanta PD
Mike Palmer cop for 20 years sergeant 5
Mary Addison Palmer Transferred to Atlanta PD. Married to Mike
Toni Jenson cop for 5 years, a detective for 1
Kevin Connely lead forensic tech He was hired out of college 15 years ago.
Bill Jackson, forensic tech, new to the team.
Don Myers, beat cop ten years. He's taking detective exam in the fall
Tom Hagman Transferred from Savana eight years ago.
Susan Allison, ME Been with the station for over 25 years
By Mistydawn
Summary
Jack finds this strange object. He's warned about its demonic powers when he takes it to the shop. Jack tries to get rid of it by throwing in the fire and a woodchipper, but it keeps returning. It's possessed his soul and is forcing him to kill.
Piecing the evidence together, the detectives discover their killer's identity.
Climbing out of her car, Toni glances around. She sees a bunch of sweaty construction workers busy loading materials for the day. The scrumptious site of tan, brawny bodies takes her breath away. She feels her temperature rise as she admires the view. It's been too long, she sighs. She hasn't been on a date since she broke up with her boyfriend late last year. She's enjoying the delicious eye-candy when a foreman walks her way.
"You can't be here, lady," he warns.
She turns to find a tall, muscular man beside her. With his six-pack abs and broad muscular chest, he's better looking than the rest. I'd love for you to wrap your brawniness around me. She blushes from the thought.
"This is a restricted area, lady." He grabs her arm and leads her towards the gate.
She pulls away. "Wait, wait."
"What?"
"My name is Toni, I'm with the Atlanta Pd and I'm looking for a man, I mean this man." She quickly corrects. Blushing, she nervously hands him her phone. The man grins; Toni's heart skips a beat. His smile is as scrumptious as the rest of him.
"That's our boss, Jack Miller." He hands it back.
"Have you seen him today?"
"He didn't show up. I figured he and his girlfriend had a long night; I'm sure you know what I mean." He elbows her. Toni nervously adjusts her clothes. "She's a cute little thing but has an attitude that just won't quit. Redheads are like that you know. Hot in the head, even hotter in the bed." He gives her a once over before he continues. "I bet you're a hot little number too."
She clears her throat " Does this girlfriend have a name?" she takes a notebook from her pocket.
"Jenifer Douglass, but everyone calls her Jen."
"Where does she live?"
"At the trailer park, last I heard."
"Do you know anywhere else Jack might go?"
"If he's not with her I don't know where he'd be."
"Do you have a way to get a hold of him, in case of an emergency?"
"We usually call his cell."
"Can I have the number, please ?" I'd love to have yours too. Toni pushes her thought aside.
"I've already called but he isn't picking up."
"I'd still like to have it if you don't mind." She hands him a piece of paper.
He takes it from her. "What's this about anyway?" he asks as he scribbles down Jack's cell.
"He has a couple of unpaid traffic tickets he needs to take care of."
"I knew it couldn't be anything too serious." He laughs.
"Why do you say that?"
"Jack's not the type to get into trouble. Not since his sister died of an overdose, anyhow. Her horrid demise straightened him right up. Finding someone like that will do it, you know."
"He found her?"
"On their bathroom floor. The parents blamed him for her death, kicked him out of the house; they haven't spoken since."
"How sad."
"If I see him I'll tell him to call." He points to the paper. "Call me, some time." Winking he walks away.
***
"Thank you for the ride," Jack says as he climbs out of the car. He'd walked the full length of the tunnel then hitched a ride the rest of the way home.
"I hope you 're able to see her before it's too late."
Jack told him he was visiting a dying friend. "God bless you, son," Jack pats the driver's hand.
'You too, sister."
Rushing to his apartment building, Jack races up the stairs. He finds police tape strung across his door a few feet down the hall. Jack freezes in midstep. "Oh my God they know, the police know I killed my friend." Frightened, he dashes back down the hall. He sees Jen coming up the stairs; he quickly turns away.
"Sister," she says as she brushes past him. Halfway up she turns back around. "Jack?"
Pretending he didn't hear her, he hustles down the remaining steps.
"Jack, wait." Running after him, she grabs a hold of his arm.
Jack spins around. "You'll leave me alone if you know what's good for you," he barks.
"I..I don't understand," she tearfully replies.
"Leave me alone." Jack races out the door.
***
Grabbing her phone, Toni dials Jack's number. It went to voice mail like the construction worker had said. Disconnecting the call, she dials another number.
"Hey, Mary it's Toni, where are you?"
"I'm at the precinct, why?"
"Good, I want you to trace this number for me."
"Who's is it?"
"It's Jack's cell phone. Are you ready?"
"Go ahead."
"870-350-1212."
" It went straight to voice mail."
"It did me too. Call again and see if the signal shows up on the towers."
" Hold on. ... "Nope, not a thing."
"Can you look up this name for me?"
"Go ahead."
"The name is Jenifer Douglas, she's Jack's girlfriend. The worker said he thought she lived at the trailer park but didn't seem too sure."
"That's what her driver's license shows."
"Can you text me the address and her photo?"
"It's on its way."
"Thanks, Mar."
"Sure, no problem. I'll look into Jack phone records, see what I can find."
Mary finds a dispatcher at her desk when she glances up from her phone.
"Detective, there's a lady here who claims she has some information concerning your suspect, Jack Miller."
"Bring her back."
"Yes, ma'am." He waves her over
"May I help you?" Mary asks.
"My name is Jenifer Douglass and I want to help you find Jack."
***
The police know I killed my friend, they know, Jack nervously thinks as he speeds down the highway. I bet they know about the others too. What am I going to do, oh what am I going to do? I could always run away but to where?
He hears a bell sound then notices a light on his dash. I can't go anywhere without gas. He checks his pockets and discovers they're empty. Pulling over, Jack anxiously checks the car. My wallet must be at home. I could hitch a ride but where will I go if I do? Maybe I could go to a church and pretend to be a nun. What if someone recognizes me? My plan worked once before, besides, I don't think they can arrest me in a church. I'm sure they'll be waiting right outside the door. He recalls a movie he'd recently watched. They might use tear gas to force me out the way they did in the show. Falling across the steering wheel he begins to sob. I'm doomed, so doomed. Maybe they'll reduce my sentence if I tell them the truth? Sitting up, he dries his face. They'll probably lock me in a loony bin if I do. Jail or the funny farm what a choice. He collapses against the wheel again.
***
Mary is trying to understand the young woman, but she's so upset that she isn't making any sense.
"Forget about what happened last night and just tell me what happened today."
Jenifer takes a deep breath and begins again. "I saw Jack in a nun's outfit a few minutes ago."
"Where was this exactly?"
"We were at his apartment. I tried to catch up to him but he sped away as I was running out the door."
"What is Jack driving?"
"His car, of course."
Mary quickly scans her notes. "A 2006 Blue Honda Accord?"
"Yes." Jen nervously readjusts herself in the seat.
"Which way was he headed?"
"North, towards Chatanooga," Jen says.
"What's going on, Mary?" Bill asks, plopping his stuff on the desk.
"This lady saw Jack pull out of his apartment. I need you to make sure we still have an APB on his car and be sure to let everyone know he's dressed up as a nun."
"I'll get right on it. Wait, isn't someone suppose to be watching the apartment?"
"That's what I thought too. I'm going to go talk to the captain find out what going on. Be sure to check on our APB." Bill nods.
Mary turns towards the woman. "Can you think of anyone he might turn to for help?"
"I can't think of anybody, not up north anyhow."
"Do me a favor and make a list of his friends while I go talk to the captain." She hands her a legal pad and a pen.
Mary finds the captain on the phone when he steps in the door.
"Close the door and have a seat," he orders. Am I getting reprimanded? Closing the door behind her, Mary plops down on the couch.
"Ok, go ahead, Mike," the captain says putting the phone on speaker.
"You'll never believe what I just found out."
Characters
Jack Miller, Construction worker, he found the ball
Jen, Jack's girlfriend
Rick Duncan, Jack's best friend
Atlanta PD
Mike Palmer cop for 20 years sergeant 5
Mary Addison Palmer Transferred to Atlanta PD. Married to Mike
Toni Jenson cop for 5 years, a detective for 1
Kevin Connely lead forensic tech He was hired out of college 15 years ago.
Bill Jackson, forensic tech, new to the team.
Don Myers, beat cop ten years. He's taking detective exam in the fall
Tom Hagman Transferred from Savana eight years ago.
Susan Allison, ME Been with the station for over 25 years
By Mistydawn
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of violence.
Synopsis
Jack finds a demonic object in the trash. It's forced him to kill four priests and his best friend.
In his narrow escapes the police, Jack leaves the ball at the church. Bill finds it.
Jack rethinks his plan as he drives down the deserted stretch of highway. The sun's reflection from the pavement is making it difficult for him to see. After a near-miss with a sign, Jack adjusts his visor and then grabs his sunglasses from the dash.
He knows his new idea is crazy, probably the most bizarre notion he's ever had, but it's the only option he can think of.
"I certainly can't run the rest of my life, that's if I manage to escape." He looks down at his dashboard and sees the gas gauge is at half a tank.
Seeing a nun stranded at the side of the road, a kind stranger decided to help out. Just when I was about to retire the habit too. Jack glances at the restrictive wear beside him. Despite its many advantages, he couldn't stand it a second more.
He realizes this or any other wardrobe won't save him from the mess he's in; running from the demonic object and the law. I know I'll go to prison when they catch me unless I can convince them that I'm completely insane. He reassures himself, one last time.
Jeff sees the three-story, brick structure in front of him when he pulls off the highway. He turns into the crowded parking lot and then glances at the hospital again. I have to do this. He thinks, still unsure about his plan. Grabbing his knife from the seat, he anxiously jumps out of the car.
The hot afternoon sun blazes down on him the moment he steps outside. Jeff nervously readjusts his sweat-drenched clothes. It's either this or prison. He closes the car door and pauses again. Just do this already. A river of sweat drips down his face as he forces himself towards the door.
"Hey, you, stop, you can't go through there," a paramedic says.
Jack continues towards the entryway. He sees the shiny white tile glistening in the sun when he glances through the large paned window. He then notices the cold, sterile walls staring back at him. The unnerving site makes him shiver. "It's either this or prison," he repeats. He pictures himself behind cold metal bars. He then imagines being beaten by several gangly men. I can't live like that, I just can't. He looks back to find the EMT is now a few feet away.
"You can't go in there, mister."
It's now or never. Jack takes a big breath of courage as he steps through the sliding glass doors.
"I need help," he screams. Everyone continues what they're doing. "I said I need help." People continue to move past him. Jack jumps on the counter and tries again." I said I need help," he screams over the roar of the crowd. He watches a few people turn towards him. Jack grabs the knife from his pocket and holds it against his wrist. "Please help me, somebody, please, please, make them stop," he cries. He quickly scans the workers, hoping to find an empathetic face.
"It's alright son, you're safe now," a gentleman says, as he approaches the desk.
"I'll never be safe, not as long as the voices tell me to do all of these horrible things."
"What voices, son?"
"The voices, the voices. Can't you hear the voices, telling me to do evil stuff?" Jack frantically waves his hand through the air.
"Come down from there and we'll get you the help you need."
"No, I don't want to go back I don't wanna; I just want the voices to stop, please make them stop." Jack makes a small cut in his wrist. he watches a tiny droplet of blood fall on the paper below him. He glances up to find horrified looks on the employee's faces. They're almost convinced. "I won't go back, I won't." He slashes his wrist again. Larger drops drip from his extremity.
The doctor inches closer. "It's alright son, you don't have to go back, but I'd still like to help."
"Get back or I'll end it right now," Jack places the sharp blade against his vein.
"You don't need to do that." stepping towards the shaken lad he continues. "Why don't you put the knife down so I can help you?"
"I know all about your fancy tricks, doc, as soon as I put the knife down, you're going to tie me up, drag me back to the mental hospital. Well, it's not going to happen again."
"I won't send you back there, son."
"I don't believe you. I don't believe any of you." Jack points the knife towards his audience; blood and skin particles fall on the floor. The crowd gasps as they step away.
"I know you're plotting against me." Jack points to a couple in the corner.
Realizing he's looking straight at them the pair shakes their head. "No... No, man, that's... That's not we're discussing at all."
"I bet all of you are scheming against me like you have my entire life." He slashes his wrists one more time. Blood pours from his veins.
"See what you made me do?" He moves his wrist in front of him, a large puddle quickly pools below him. "This is all your fault, all your damn fault," he screams. He glances down to find the desk covered in blood. I hope they do something soon. He glances around to find no one has moved. Guess I'll have to force them.
"I'll stop the voices once and for all." Jack moves the knife to the other side. He feels two strong arms wrap around him and, then pull him to the ground. Success. "You're not taking me, you're not, you're not." Jack smiles inwardly as he thrashes around.
***
Mary is on the edge of the black leather couch, waiting for the bad news. The captain is in front of her, watching her fidget. What did I do, oh what did I do? She tries to read the captain's face. He continues to give her a blank stare. After a few unsettling minutes, the captain leans across his desk. Here it goes. She prepares for the worst.
"What did you find out, sergeant?" he questions as he puts the phone on speaker.
"I'm walking around Jack's apartment when a young woman runs up to me. She says she knows about the murders and she has information that might help us with the case."
Relieved she's not being reprimanded, Mary scoots closer to the phone. "What did she tell you?"
"Twenty years ago, her brother, Adam admitted to killing several priests. He then told the police a demonic object made him do it. He said he tried to stop it, but it took over his body, made him do things he didn't want to do. She thought his brain tumor caused him to say these things until she found a book of demonic spells in his belongings.
"What does all of this have to do with our case?" the captain questions.
"I'm getting to that."
The captain looks up at the clock. "Please hurry."
"She took the book to a shop on the square. The lady told her he purchased the book after she warned him about the satanic ball."
"A satanic ball?" Mary questions.
"Yes, evidently an evil witch named Tibia used to trap souls inside the object and whoever has the ball will be enslaved by its powers from now until eternity."
"This is a fascinating story, Mike but how does this pertain to us?"
"Wait, Jen told me that Jack thought a creepy ball was talking to him, telling him to do things. She thought he's delusional from the fever at the time, but after seeing him today, she's not so sure."
"When did you talk to her?"
"She's at my desk."
The captain glances at Mary and then the phone. Do you know how crazy this sounds, guys? "He ponders their theory again.
"I know it sounds nuts, captain, but...."
The captain interrupts. "If I tell the DA your idea, we'll all end up in the nuthouse."
Mike tries again. "I know it sounds bizarre, sir, but this has to be more than a coincidence, right? Both claiming the ball possessed their souls, killing the same people the exact same way."
"Mary, I want you to go talk to her again, see what else you can find out. Mike, I want you to go to the store on the square, see what she can tell you and ask her if Jack has stopped by."
"I already did, captain but the place is closed."
"Closed?"
"Yes, according to another shop owner, it's been out of business for years. I asked him about Jack, and he said a young man did stop by, claiming to have visited the place earlier in the day. He doesn't know how that's possible since it'd been closed for so long. Jack then asks if he can hear the drums, see the lights flash. The old man says he looks down at the round wooden object but doesn't find a thing."
"I still think your theory is crazy, guys, but go ahead, see what else you can find."
Characters
Jack Miller, Construction worker, he found the ball
Jen, Jack's girlfriend
Rick Duncan, Jack's best friend
Atlanta PD
Mike Palmer cop for 20 years sergeant 5
Mary Addison Palmer Transferred to Atlanta PD. Married to Mike
Toni Jenson cop for 5 years, a detective for 1
Kevin Connely lead forensic tech He was hired out of college 15 years ago.
Bill Jackson, forensic tech, new to the team.
Don Myers, beat cop ten years. He's taking detective exam in the fall
Tom Hagman Transferred from Savana eight years ago.
Susan Allison, ME Been with the station for over 25 years
By Mistydawn
Synopsis
Jack finds a demonic object in the trash. It's forced him to kill four priests and his best friend.
In his narrow escape from the police, Jack leaves the ball at the church. Bill finds it. Deciding a mental institution is better than prison, Jack comes up with a plan to have himself committed. He figures it'd look less suspicious if he's committed than committing himself.
Jack wakes up to find his arms and legs strapped to a bed; fresh bandages are wrapped snugly against his wrist. He then notices an IV taped to the crook of his arm. He glances up to find a bag of fluids hanging above his head. He watches as the yellowish liquid drips slowly into a chamber. No wonder I feel like I do.
He discovers the white sterile walls are now a mint green; a beautiful mural covers the entire ceiling. They've taken me to the nuthouse after all. He smiles.
Jack hears footsteps in the doorway. He turns to find a doctor headed his way; two EMTS are close behind. He then notices the cold, sterile walls just beyond the door. I haven't been committed after all; not yet, anyway. He smiles inwardly as he conjures up a plan.
"Son, I know I promised," the doctor begins.
Jack sees the word Danvers written on paramedic's lapel. "You promised you wouldn't send me back. You promised doc, you promised." Jack tugs on his restraints.
"I know son, but we believe you'd do better in a long-term facility than you would with us."
An EMT reaches for him, Jack jerks away. "You're not taking me, you're not, you're not." The burly men try again. "I won't go back. I won't, I won't." Jack thrashes around in bed.
"It's the only way you're going to get better and that's what you want, right?"
"I just want these voices to stop."
"They'll be able to help you at Danvers."
"Why can't you do it here?"
"Danvers is better equipped to handle your situation."
"I won't go back, I won't, I won't."
The doctor turns towards his nurse. "Give him 2 mg of Ativan and then prepare him to be transported."
"Yes, doctor."
"Don't do this to me, please, don't do it again." Jack protests as he inwardly jumps for joy.
***
Opening his eyes, Bill looks around. He first discovers the sun slowly setting over the horizon. He then notices the tall, barren trees that surround him. The ground is nothing more than cracked dirt; a peculiar sight for this time of year.
A crisp northern wind blows through the secluded area; adding a chill to the crisp night air. He wraps his coat around himself as he continues to look around. How did I get out here?
Bill's mind drifts back to the church. He was packing up the evidence when an odd-shaped object tumbles to the floor. The device begins to vibrate as its lights flash to the beat of the drum. Thick black smoke fills the room. In a state of panic, Bill bolts towards the door. He loses his balance, tumbling to the carpeted floor. His memory fast forwards to waking up in this desolate place. I still don't know how I got here or where here even is.
A warm, sticky liquid oozes between his fingers as he pushes himself off the ground. What the hell? He looks down to find a thick, red matter covering the palm of his hand. He then discovers the substance splattered across his clothes. A motionless body a few feet away. What did I do?" Tears fill his eyes as he stares at the bloody corpse. Hearing tribal drums, Bill turns to find the glowing ball behind him. Its outer surface is slathered in fresh blood.
"Your soul is mine to do with as I wish." The demonic object replies. Terrified, Bill dashes through the woods.
You'll never escape me, never," it shouts, mere inches from his head.
Bill zigzags through the barren foliage, hoping It'd get caught on a limb.
The sky quickly darkens; the turbulent winds become stronger than they were just moments before. Bill pushes forward, despite the raging breeze. Thunder roars above him, debris flies all around. A bolt of lightning strikes a tree. The timber splits in to and then crashes to the ground.
"Your soul is mine I tell you, all mine." It laughs.
Tripping over loose foliage, Bill plummets to the ground. He tries to get up, but his body refuses to budge. The ball circles around him as he lay paralyzed against the cold hard dirt.
Bill glances around to find eroded tombstones scattered throughout the sight. He then notices the ghostly figures that surround him. These spine-chilling creatures vary in gender and age. Each with a weathered cord hanging loosely around their necks. The spirits trudge toward him. Bill tries to scoot away. No matter how hard he struggles, his body remains glued in place.
"Help me, please, somebody help me," Bill yells as the creatures continue to close in.
***
Mike zigzags through the crowded station towards their cubical. We need a bigger workspace; he thinks as he glances at the dozens of desks scattered haphazardly around the room. They've been trying to get the city to expand for years, but with money being tight, they don't see it happening any time soon.
He discovers Mary talking to Jen; Tom is on the phone when he reaches their section. Jen jumps as he approaches them. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's alright. She nervously straightens her clothes. I'm usually not this jumpy, but this satanic ball thing really has me spooked."
"I think it has all of us a little on edge." Mike quickly scans the room.
"Do you need something, sergeant?" Mary asks.
"I have a couple of questions for Jen if she doesn't mind."
Jen straightens up in her chair. "Anything to help out."
"Jack claimed a demonic ball forced him to do stuff, correct?"
Jen fidgets with her purse as she answers. "Yes, that's right."
"Did he tell you what they were?"
"No. I thought he was delusional at the time, so I didn't ask."
"Can you describe the ball?"
"I didn't look at it too close. The eerie thing gave me the creeps. In fact, I almost left it outside." She glances away. "I wish I would've now." She wipes a tear from her face.
"You found it outside?"
"It was at Jack's front door. I thought it was a birthday present from his demented friends, so I brought it in. Jack takes one look at the ball and freaks out. I asked him what was wrong he says that he's been trying to get rid of it all day. He claims he left it at the shop, threw it in the fireplace and the woodchipper, but it always comes back unscathed. I thought he was hallucinating, but now I'm not so sure."
"Can you describe this object?"
"It's a wooden ball with two metal plates. One copper piece has a horrid face and the other has a strange inscription."
"Bill found an object just like it at the church. In fact, it should be locked up in the evidence room." Tom quickly skims through the log. "It's not on the list. I'm going to call Bill and see what's going on." He starts to pick up the phone when he notices the captain heading their way.
"Toni just called said the lead was a dead end. Are you getting anywhere?"
"Bill found the ball that Jack claims is possessed. It's supposed to be in the evidence room, but it isn't on the list."
"Call down there, find out what's going on."
"Yes, Captain," Picking up the phone, he dials forensics' extension. "Susan it's Tom. Can I talk to Bill, please?" ... "What do you mean he's not there?" ... "He didn't make it back from the church?" Tom checks his watch, then continues. "He should've been back hours ago. You do that and then let me know." Hanging up, he turns towards the crew, a perplexed look on his face.
"Susan said Bill hasn't made it back, so she's going to make sure he's alright."
"Where was this demonic object?"
"It was in a bowl of holy water at the church, sergeant."
"Maybe Jack is trying to get rid of it once and for all," Jen pipes in.
"Yeah, maybe."
Hearing heels clink against the tile, the team turns towards the door.
"Guys he's not answering his phone and his car is still in the parking lot," Susan says as she breathlessly continues towards the detectives.
"I'll call Bill's wife, see if she's heard from him." Tom reaches for the phone.
"I already did, she hasn't seen or heard from him since he left for work."
"Where in the world could he be?" the sergeant questions, nervously glancing around.
***
Tribal drums beat in the far distance as the demonic ball circles its prey.
"Your soul is mine from now until eternity and you will do what I say!"
Characters
Jack Miller, Construction worker, he found the ball
Jen, Jack's girlfriend
Rick Duncan, Jack's best friend
Atlanta PD
Mike Palmer cop for 20 years sergeant 5
Mary Addison Palmer Transferred to Atlanta PD. Married to Mike
Toni Jenson cop for 5 years, a detective for 1
Kevin Connely lead forensic tech He was hired out of college 15 years ago.
Bill Jackson, forensic tech, new to the team.
Don Myers, beat cop ten years. He's taking detective exam in the fall
Tom Hagman Transferred from Savana eight years ago.
Susan Allison, ME Been with the station for over 25 years
By Mistydawn
Synopsis
Jack finds a demonic object in the trash. It's forced him to kill four priests and his best friend.
In Jacks narrow escape from the police, he leaves the ball at the church where Bill finds it.
Jack commits himself to the mental institution.
Bill disappears when he resurfaces he's in Salam Villiage during the witch hunt days.
There he saves a young girl he thinks is his relative from being executed.
The last chapter ends with him darting towards the woods angry villagers are chasing after him
Dr. Langston is finishing up patients charts in his spacious office. He hated the monthly reports but knows it has to be done if he wanted to keep the state off of his back. Closing the last chart, he props his feet on the desk. All I need is a few minutes of peace and quiet before I face them. Looking towards the door, he sees nurses scurrying down the hall. It's always chaotic around here, he thinks. Stretching out his long lanky body, he closes his weary eyes. Peace and quiet, at last, he smiles, reclining in his expensive Italian chair. It was the only thing that keeps his sanity intact on long hectic days like this. He'd just started to relax when a young nurse bursts through the door.
"Doctor, come quick," the trembling nurse says.
"What is it?" he asks, hurriedly sitting up.
"It's Jack Smith, I think he's dead."
"Dead?" Springing from his chair, he bolts towards the door.
"Yes, he's lying on the floor covered in blood. I couldn't find a pulse and it doesn't look like he's breathing," she says, following him down the hallway.
Reaching the doorway, the doctor sees Jack's lifeless body sprawled across the linoleum, warm blood is pooling all around him. Running to the patient's side, he quickly feels for a pulse, but there wasn't one to be found.
"How did this happen," he demands, studying the mutilated body.
"I...I..I don't know, Sir."
"Well you better find out pretty damn quick," he says, storming out the door. The other doctors warned him about accidents like this, but he never thought it would happen to him, not under his watchful eye. I need to call the director and see how he wants to handle this, he thinks, rushing to the phone.
***
Hustling his large, round body through the station, Jerry quickly taps on the captain's door.
"You'll never believe what just happened, boss," he breathlessly begins.
"What, Jerry, what?" the Captain anxiously replies. Seeing his normally calm detective completely flabbergasted, he springs up from his chair.
"Someone just called from the state hospital and said one of their patients has been murdered."
"Murdered?"
"That's what they said boss," he answers, still trying to catch his breath.
"Jack isn't responsible for this, is he?"
"He's the one who was killed."
"Get out there and see what you can find out, take Kirk with you."
"Yes, Boss."
"Jerry, wait," he says, reaching for the phone.
Jerry turns back around.
"Joe speaking, yes we already know. I'm sending Kirk and Jerry out there now. I'll let them know." Hanging up the phone, Joe looks up at Jerry.
"That was Rachel letting me know about Jack's death."
"How did she find out?"
"A friend called and told her. She said that her informant thinks they're going to try and cover it up, so you need to get out there as fast as you can."
"We're on our way, Boss."
***
The detectives see Rachel walking towards the building when they pull into the hospital.
"My informant said they're planning on covering this up, so I'm going to stop them before it's too late. Jerry, I want you and Kirk to start questioning everyone you see," she instructs,
"Can I help you?" A nurse asks as Rachel approaches the nurses' station.
"We're with the Danvers police and we're here to investigate Jack Smith's murder."
"I'm sorry. Detective, but you're too late."
"What do you mean we're late?" Rachel exclaims.
"The funeral parlor has already picked up the body."
"What!"
"The family instructed us not to do an autopsy, so our director called the funeral home to pick up the remains."
"You can't do that! Not when the patient was murdered."
"Our Medical Examiner determined that he committed suicide."
"Wasn't he supposed to be on a suicide watch?"
"He was, but he somehow got a hold of a knife and slashed his wrists. It happens all the time," she replies nonchalantly, waving her hands through the air.
"Well, it shouldn't. Can you at least show us the room where it happened?" The nurse points across the hall. Turning, they see the janitor stepping through the doorway. Rachel spins back around.
"You cleaned up the crime scene too?" Rachel asks in disbelief.
"The director ordered us to clean it up before it upset the others." The Sergeant starts to walk towards the janitor when she sees Jerry approach him. She turns back towards the nurse.
"There's something fishy going on around here and you damn well better believe I'm going to find out what it is," Rachel spat, storming out the door. Institution procedures concern her because it hits so close to home. Both her mom and cousin have been diagnosed with a mental illness. So she feels like it's her duty to make sure the hospitals are on the up and up.
"What do you want to do now," Kirk asks, running to catch up to her.
"Call the funeral parlor and find out what's really going on."
"Sergeant, wait up," Jerry yells, bolting through the door. Stopping, Rachel turns back around.
"I have the murder weapon," he says, holding up a plastic bag.
"They gave that to you," she asks, surprised they'd be so forthcoming.
"Well, sort of."
"What do you mean sort of, Jerry?" she asks, giving him the evil eye. He's known to occasionally bend the rules, especially when they're at a dead end.
"I saw it lying on the floor by the trash can so I snatched it up."
"That's legal, Sergeant, since we're here on official police business and it was in plain sight," Kirk says.
"This little baby may give us the answers we're looking for," she says, smacking the plastic bag.
"You don't believe it was a suicide, do you, Sergeant?"
"Not the way my friend described finding him I don't," she says, walking towards her car.
***
Bill's heart is pounding furiously against his chest wall as he gasps for needed air. Looking down he sees the child's sad brown eyes staring up at him in disbelief.
Bill hears horses trampling through the leaves behind him. In the far distance, he hears bloodthirsty hounds howling with excitement. Frightened, Bill glances around hoping to find shelter. All he sees is tall barren trees hovering all around him. Glancing back he spots a horde of villagers quickly closing the distance. He picks up his pace. His arms are getting tired and his body weakening as the endless chase continues. Pain radiates up his legs and his chest starts to burn as he desperately gasps for air. I can't do this much longer, he concludes, stumbling over the small branches. Bill sees the clearing is just a few feet ahead when he glances up. This is where it all began, he thinks, darting towards the opening. The area seems to get further away, the faster he travels.
"Someone, please help me," he begs, as he continues to run towards the clearing. Looking down he sees the little girl's eyes silently begging him to carry on. I have to do this for her sake, he thinks, pushing himself further. He hears horses whining a few feet away, the dogs are nipping at his heals. Looking back Bill sees an armored man swinging a flail above his head. He feels a dog grab a hold of his legs bringing him to the ground. Looking up he sees a pointy round ball coming towards his head.
"She's only a child," Bill screams, shielding her from the mid-evil device.
Bill slowly opens his swollen eyes as the decapitated woman loosens the grip on his head. Looking around Bill sees the ghostly beings curiously staring down at him. He tries scooting away but soon realizes he's still unable to move.
"This is what happened to a great portion of your family," one of the zombies informs him.
"She was just a small child," he replies, wiping a stream of tears off of his dirt streaked face.
"It didn't matter how old they were if they were thought to witches."
"The small child you just saved was your great, great grandmother Dorothy. She's the only one in her family who made it out alive," another ghostly being says.
"How," he cries.
"She was released on bond to an English couple the day before her execution."
"So the mother the women talked about is my Aunt Sarah and baby was Mercy?"
"I'm afraid so my child," a motherly creature answers. Bill sat silently on the cold hard ground trying to understand what he's just been told. The older woman gives him a few minutes before she continues.
"Since you are the last of the family, it's up to you to get them the justice they deserve."
"It's not right to take a life because of what their ancestors did," Bill protests.
"Was it fair for a great portion of your family to be killed the way they were?"
"No, of course not, but these people have nothing to do with that."
"Maybe I should show you exactly how we were murdered." A woman says, stepping towards him. Bill realizes the woman is his Aunt Sarah and the baby she's holding is the infant that died at birth.
"No," he protests, jumping up, he quickly backs away.
"You really don't have a choice in the matter. Just like you didn't have a choice with Jack." A larger man says, slowly swaying towards him.
"Jack who," he asks, as he continues to back away.
"Jack Smith, of course, don't you remember what happened?"
" Let me help you," his Aunt says, waving her hand in front of him.
He pictures himself walking down a long hall all dressed in blue. Opening a set of metal doors he starts glancing around. Seeing a young man restrained to a bed, Bill starts walking towards him. As he gets closer Bill realizes, he's the man thought to be responsible for the murders.
Seeing someone standing over him, the frightened patient tries scooting away. The restraints hold him so firmly in place, he wasn't able to move far.
Bill sees tears pouring down the man's bruised up face, as he leans over the bed.
"No, please don't hurt me, please don't. "I'll be good this time, I promise I will." the young man sobs, glancing up at his assailant.
"Your soul is mine from now until eternity," Bill says, in a deep gravelly voice. Taking a knife from his pocket, Bill lifts it above his head.
"Please don't hurt me." the young man begs as the knife comes towards him.
Bill startles himself back into reality when he gasps for air. Glancing around, Bill notices the ghostly beings smiling contently at him.
"I..I couldn't...I wouldn't," he nervously stutters.
"Oh, but you did" one of the ghoul's replies.
"You will do our bidding for as long as we command," the larger man adds as he walks towards him.
Cast of Characters
Joe, police captain
Rachel, police sergeant
Jerry, Kirk, detectives
Jack, The one who originally found the ball
Bill,detective, he found the ball at the church
Sarah Good, a woman who was killed for witchery
Mercy Good, Sara's daughter who died at birth
Dorthy Good, Sara's oldest daughter.
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