[To Be Continued]

Part 3: Revelation

"I told you there's nothing out there!"   David replied.     Several large globs of black mud slid off of his clothes and joined the ever-growing pile of gunk on the carpet around him.   "I just CAME from there!"

"And you saw the generator?"   said Dr. Jeffries.

"Yeah!"

"Where, exactly?"   said Lindsay.

"Outside."

"Fuck the generator;  I ain't going."

"What happened to you, David?"  said Dr. Hixon.  "You look like-"

"Like something dragged me under a lake and tried to fuck me.   But I wasn't having that.    And on the way back here, I got an idea of where the generator might be."

"Lake?"  said Kyle.  "There's a lake here?"

"You've been out to the garden, haven't you."   Sarah Bishop accused.

"Duh.   I should think that's fairly obvious.    Geez, Hixon, where'd you get this genius?"

"Don't trust him,"  said Sarah.   "There's something wrong here."

"Ooohh, more psychic bullshit."

"I told you we shouldn't venture outside the house.    You did it anyway.     I told you not to disturb the force in the garden.   You did it anyway.   I told you that this experiment should be discontinued and we should all just leave... we're still here-"

"NEWSFLASH:  The car batteries are DEAD!"  said Anthony.   "Ain't nobody going anywhere!"

"Doesn't matter the reason... the fact is that every time I warn or suggest something, you end up doing the opposite.   And the consequences of that are getting steadily worse as the night goes on.   NOW I'm telling you NOT to trust this man!"   Sarah pointed a short, pudgy finger at David.    "He isn't right.  There is something about him that is disturbing the forces in this place... and those forces may be disturbing HIM as well.    Something about this place has reached out to him-"

"Bitch, go get a sandwich or something and shut the fuck up before I reach out to YOU!"  David spat.

"See!"

"Sounds like the same old David to me,"  said Anthony.

"David-"   Dr. Hixon began.

"You know what... fuck all of you.   You wanna sit around here in the dark, fine.    I'M going to get my equipment.   And if I get a hernia from dragging it in here by myself, then when I get out of  the hospital I'm gonna WHEELCHAIR your asses to death!"

David turned around and, with wet, sloshing footsteps, marched down the hallway to the front door.

"Hold up!"  said Anthony.   He followed David.

"Thought you weren't going outside,"  said  Dr. Hixon.

"Whatever's out there didn't fuck with HIM, right?"

"Fine,"  said Sarah as everyone except herself, Lindsay, and Kyle went outside with David.  "Ignore me again."

"Maybe they don't like you,"  Lindsay offered.

"Maybe I don't look as good as you do in a tight sweatshirt."

"Well, yeah..."

David led the group to the large rental truck parked just outside the door.   He walked up to the rear doors and pulled them open, revealing a rectangle of inky darkness    Anthony shined his flashlight into it.

The generator was inside, sitting among a few pieces of stray equipment like a diamond in a coal bin.

"Told you,"  said David.

"In the truck,"   Anthony said incredulously.   "Its been sitting here in the truck all this time."

"Yup."

"Why?"   said Hixon.

"What's the last place YOU would look, doc?"  David replied.  "I mean really... why would ANYONE think to look in here?   Unless they're a genius like me."

"No... why hide it at all?"  said Dr. Hixon.  "Why not just destroy it?"

"Because ghosts are stupid,"   said David.    He hopped into the truck and waited for the others.  "Well... you gonna help me tote this bastard or not?"

The generator was a heavy machine... bigger and heavier than a car engine by a considerable amount.    It normally sat on its own wheeled metal cart for easy maneuvering, but whatever had taken the generator had discarded the cart, and no-one was in a particular hurry to go and look for it.    It took all four of them to move the generator off of the truck.   After that,  the short trip back inside the house seemed like an eternity of straining muscles and grunting, gasping lungs.    Lindsay held the door open for them while kept a fearful eye on the darkness surrounding the courtyard.    Kyle just sat and watched.

They deposited the machine at the edge of the living room, with the exhaust hose aimed back toward the front door.     Anthony,   Dr. Hixon, and Dr. Jeffries had to take a few minutes to catch their breath.   David immediately squatted down and began inspecting the machine.

"One of these breakers is burnt out from earlier... but I can rig it,"  he said.

"And then what?"    said Sarah.

"We could use the generator to recharge the car batteries,"  Lindsay suggested.  "Then we can get the hell out of here."

"That won't work,"   David said.   "Different voltages.    Hook this thing up to the batteries and they'd pop like balloons."

"Balloons filled with acid,"  Antony added.

"But you could rig something, can't you?"

"Sure-"

"No, we can't,"  said David.

"Yeah, we can.    I think Lindsay has a good idea... we can make a voltage regulator-"

"What we can MAKE, is the Sampler operational again.   That's all this generator is meant for... it's a finely-tuned machine, and you don't go fucking with it just to start a car.   Somebody hand me the electrical tape."

"Here-"

"Thanks.   Getting the Sampler back online is the best thing we can do right now."

"I-I think he's right,"  said Hixon.  "These spirits in here... they're just too powerful."

"And armed!"

"But with the Sampler, we can fight back,"

"Hell fuckin' yeah,"  said David.

"But it isn't the ghosts we should be afraid of,"  said Sarah.   "Its the Other."

"Other?"

"Oh,  you gave it a name now?"  said Anthony.  "I liked to call it 'The Mutherfucker That Shot Me In The Balls,'  but I guess that's kinda long, huh?"

"You got shot in the balls, dude?" said David.

"Yeah, but I'm better now."

"Oh."    David went back to work on the generator.    "Look, these ghosts already got a taste of this thing once.   They didn't like it.   All we gotta do is turn it on again and no ghost in its right mind will fuck with us."

"At least until the gas runs out."    Anthony and David looked at each other.   "There IS still gas in this thing, isn't there?"

David checked the fuel level.

"Awww FUCK!"

"It's empty!?!"

"No... just kidding,"  said David.  "We got plenty of juice for what we need to do.  Hey,  Kyle... make yourself useful and go get-"

"Kyle?"   said Dr. Jeffries.

Everyone turned to where Kyle had been sitting.

The chair was empty.

"Where's my son?"

"I dunno... he was just sitting there and... now he's not."

"KYLE!"   Dr. Jeffries shouted.

"...dad!..."  came a weak, muffled reply.   "...dad, help me!..."

It was coming from the chair.   Not from 'near' the chair or 'around' the chair...  no, the boy's faint voice was coming from INSIDE the chair.

"Kyle?"

Suddenly all of the doors in the house flew open and slammed shut with one, tremendous BANG!    The furniture in the living room began shaking and moving, slamming itself against the floor and walls with increasing intensity.   But the chair where Kyle had been sitting was ominously still.   It held its space as if nailed to the floor.

"KYLE!"

"What's happening!"  Lindsay screamed.

"You know what's happening!  The souls in this house are angry!"

"THEY'RE angry!  I'M the one that got his balls shot off!"

"They don't want us to fix the Sampler,"  said David... busily tinkering with the generator's inner works.   "But they're gonna have to try harder than that."

"Where's my SON!"

"Fuck him,"  said David.  "He never did shit anyway."

"KYLE!"

Kyle's voice... if it was still present... was lost in the storm of sounds from the dancing furniture.

"It was this chair!"   said Jeffries.  "His voice was coming from this chair!   Someone help me!"

Dr. Jeffries fingers scratched at the furnishing's antique fabric... but the thick cloth refused to yield.    Lindsay and Dr. Hixon joined him.   Together they, kicked, yanked and pulled.   The chair would not move, and its fabric would not tear.

"Use this!"   Anthony tossed them a small utility knife.    Dr. Jeffries caught it and began cutting the tough fabric on the chair's seat.   At first, the chair's skin held firm... but he applied more pressure and the blade sank in.     The chair produced a deep, almost inaudible groan.   The wound that Dr. Jeffries had made spurted a thick, pestiferous fluid that splattered over his hands.   The fluid was slimy and warm to the touch.

"...my God..."  Dr. Hixon gasped.    Lindsay backed away, but Sarah moved in to take her place.

Gritting his teeth, Dr. Jeffries cut some more.    Once the initial incision had been made, the knife cut more easily.   The chair was now gushing copious amounts of body-temperature fluid in regular, powerful spurts... as if the doctor had sliced into an artery.     Dr. Jeffries ignored it.   When the hole was big enough, he dropped the knife, grabbed the sides of the wound, and tore it open.

The chair jerked.  It did not move because of Dr. Jeffries external attack, but rather from some inner convulsion.... like living flesh pulling away from an open flame.

The fabric split with a wet, ripping sound.  More pus splattered up into the doctor's face, and now a thick mucous was oozing out onto his hands.   The hole had only widened slightly, however.     Dr. Hixon and Sarah added their efforts to Dr. Jeffries', and then Anthony aided them as well.    With their combined strength, they split the fabric right down the middle.

-rrruuuupt!-

The chair ballooned outward like a giant, swollen blister, and then it exploded... sending chunks of is fabric/flesh in all directions, and spraying everything around it with warm, clear pus.

"AAAH!"  Lindsay screeched as the gore soaked her.

"KYLE!"

The chair was gone, but it had given up its prisoner.   Kyle lay on the floor, nestled in a web of what at first appeared to be tentacles, but were actually thick strands of milky-white mucous.    They had been serving some infernal purpose before...  but now that the chair was gone, they were just so much warm, lifeless gore.   Dr. Jeffries tried to pull them free, but at his touch, they disintegrated into a disgusting white slush that soon covered everything.     Some of the mucous had made its way into the boy's mouth, and when this was scooped out, Kyle coughed... rolled over onto his stomach and expelled a lung-full of pus through his mouth and nose.

"Son... are you all right?"

"...dad..."   Kyle gasped.   "It.... it ate me..."

"Jesus H. Christ,"  said Anthony.    "The chair fucking ATE the kid!"

"I... I sat in that chair,"  Dr. Hixon mumbled.

"Hey... everything's stopped..."  Lindsay remarked.    The rattling of furniture and slamming of doors that filled the past minute had finally ceased... its ending punctuated by an uncanny silence.

"It hasn't stopped,"  said Sarah.  "Its just beginning-  LOOK OUT!"

A billowing black non-shape burst from the hallway leading to the bedrooms.    It came at them quickly, expanding as it did until it blocked half of the room.  Before anyone could draw breath to scream, the cloud heaved outward and split open,  forming a gigantic black mouth that exhaled a gust of intense heat and ash.   The rest of the cloud formed a face... a woman's face... burnt and horrible.   The eyes were dark pits scowling out at the fools standing before it.     The heat and ash made the air unbreathable, and as the stunned researchers coughed and sputtered, a single mid-night black tentacle snaked out of the burnt ghost's mouth and wrapped around Kyle's legs.

"NO!"  Dr. Jeffries managed to scream.

The tentacle withdrew, taking Kyle with it...

"Daaaadd!"

The boy vanished into the apparition's mouth.  The gaping maw clamped shut and the face began to dissolve as it retreated back down the hallway.   The shadows swallowed it... and a sudden gust of wind sucked the heat and thick, chocking ash out of the room... leaving it exactly as it was before.   Minus one occupant.

"KYLE!

"What the FUCK just happened!"   said Anthony.

"My son is gone!"    Dr. Jeffries turned to confront Sarah.  "What do these things want with MY SON!?"

"I don't know, but-"

"WHERE IS HE!?"

"He's in the house... but yet, he's not in the house.    I can sense-"

"God DAMMIT, woman!   Something just ATE my son, and you're standing there spouting NONSENSE!   DAMN you!"

"I don't think he's hurt, but-"

Dr. Jeffries snatched a flashlight from the table.   He seemed on the verge of smacking Sarah across the face with it, but instead, he went into the hallway and kicked open the first door he came to.

"KYLE!"

"Dr. Jeffries,"  Sarah began, "I don't think-"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH MY SON!"

Dr. Jeffries went from door to door in the short hallway.  At each room, he forced the door open and shined his light inside... only to find nothing but dust and darkness.

"KYLE!   Where are you!"

Neither the house nor the boy replied.    Dr. Jeffries searched the last room, then came back down the hall and headed for the stairs.

"Get this machine operational,"  he spat as he passed David.   "I don't care WHAT you have to do.   Make this thing WORK, and make it work NOW!"

"Oh, it's gonna work alright,"  said David.   He had connected the generator to the Sampler, was now making some adjustments on both machines.

Dr. Jeffries started marching up the stairs to the second floor.

"Is it safe for him to go up there alone?"  said Dr. Hixon.

"No."

"I'll go,"  Lindsay blurted.  "Dr. Jeffries, wait!   I'll help you!"     She chased after the irate doctor, while Sarah gazed suspiciously down the hallway that Jeffries had just searched.   She seemed to be listening to something.

"KYLE!"   Dr. Jeffries voice boomed from upstairs.

Sarah continued staring down the hall.

"What?"  said Dr. Hixon.  "Do you sense something?   Down there?"

"Yes,"  she said in a distant voice.   "I think I've just received an invitation."

David looked up from diligent tinkering for the first time since he'd started.   He glanced at Sarah and frowned.

"A what?"  he said.

"They want to talk to me.  I think."   She started toward the hall.

For a second, David had an odd of concern on his face.  But it quickly faded and he returned to his work.

"...whatever..."  he mumbled.     Sarah went down the hall, where the darkness closed in around her.

"Hey, wait!"  Dr. Hixon trotted after her, and they were soon both gone from sight.

"Invitation, my ass,"  David murdered.  "She probably just snuck off for a snack."

"Okay,"  said Anthony as he watched David's hands toying with the Sampler's innards.  "Okay, dude... please tell me... what the HELL are you doing?"

---

"Do you think we'll find him when Dr. Jeffries couldn't?"  Dr. Hixon asked as he caught up with Sarah.

"If they let us," Sarah replied.

"Let?"

"And IF they took him."

"Well, who else-"

"It should be fairly obvious that there's more going on here than just ghosts,"  said Sarah.  She flashed a serious glance toward her companion.  "Don't you think?"

"You're the psychic.   I'm just..."

"Here to ride Dr. Jeffries' coat-tails.  I understand."

"Hey!  Hey, a lot of legitimate research went into this project.  Research that was done by me!"

"Researchers don't get their pictures on the covers of magazines.  They don't win prizes and don't pull down ten-thousand dollars per speech."

"What are you saying, Ms. Bishop?"

"I'm not quite sure."   Sarah looked confused for a moment, then paused in front of one of the bedroom doors.   It was the room that Kyle had claimed he'd seen a ghost in earlier.   When she'd come to investigate, she found the room to be one of the more intense places in the house... as if someone had been living in it for a long, long time.   No one else had felt it, of course.. but it was there.    Now, however, that intensity had increased ten-fold.   The air surrounding the door vibrated with an unseen energy... a cold and eerie electricity that Sarah had long since learned to associate with the whisperings of unquiet souls.     The energy hovered around the door like a thick, invisible fog that seemed to push her away and draw her in at the same time.

Sarah stepped forward and let the energy wash over her.  She opened her mind to receive whatever impressions it contained.

Sarah shivered.

"Sarah?"  said Dr. Hixon.

"They're not sure,"  Sarah replied.   "They don't know if they can trust me."

"You can tell that?"

"I can feel it."

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened.   It swung open slowly, revealing the blackness beyond.   Dr. Hixon shined his flashlight into the room.   The darkness swallowed the feeble beam like a ravenous black predator.    Sarah couldn't see anything inside the room, but she could feel that something was there.   Several somethings.

A barrage of disparate emotions assaulted her as she stepped over the threshold.   Anger.  Fear.  Concern.  Suspicion.   Hate.     She accepted them all, and tried to project as much calm and reassurance as she could... which wasn't very much, considering the current situation.    It was enough.    The flood of negative emotions subsided, leaving only brief, but powerful flashes.

Sarah found herself standing alone in the middle of the room.    The surreal darkness was gone now.  She could see the walls... the window with its eerie curtain... and the door.

Dr. Hixon tried to join her in the room, but he was met with a loud, primal wail of pure emotion... a wail that was felt more than it was heard.   Hixon gasped as something unseen knocked him back out into the hallway.

"Hey-"  he began.   The door slammed in mid-protest, sealing him out.

Sarah frowned and turned away from the door.  She didn't know where to look, so she looked at the curtain.

"Let him in,"  she said.   There was a forceful edge in her voice.  "It's not safe for him to be alone, and you KNOW it.  Let him in."

There was no verbal response, but Sarah felt the energy around her rise up in silent denial of her request.   She asked again.

"You're placing him in danger.   Let him in... or I won't talk to you."

Something changed.

The door opened slowly... cautiously.   Sarah almost expected to hear the hinges creak... but they didn't.  Dr. Hixon peeked in and glanced expectantly at Sarah.   She nodded, and he entered.

"What, uhhh..."

"They have something to say.   What, I don't know."

"They.  How many are there?"

"Nine, I think.  They're all around us."

Dr. Hixon looked around.

"Of, COURSE you can't see them,"  Sarah replied to his unspoken remark.  "That's why you brought ME, remember?"

"Oh.  Right.  C-Can you talk to them?"

"Not exactly..."

Something moved in the room.

"What was that-"

A damp, musty breeze ruffled the curtains and crossed the room to touch Sarah.  It was invisible at first, but soon it condensed into a brown haze.  It blew around her in a tight circle... leaving a characteristic and familiar stench in its wake:  Stale vomit and fresh whiskey.   Urine and sweat.

"Oh no!"  Dr. Hixon gasped as he backed away.  "I remember this thing... no... tell it to go away!  Go Away!"

"Stop making an ass out of yourself, doctor.   If they wanted you, they'd have you by now."

The unusual spirit continued to circle her... almost as if it were waiting for something.   Sarah couldn't read its thoughts any more than she could sense a living person's... but she could feel its emotions clearly.    It was afraid, but it wanted something.  It wanted her to DO something.

No... it wanted to do something TO her.   Something that she would have to allow.

She knew what it was.

"No,"  she whispered.  She hadn't realized she'd spoken aloud until she felt the reactions.   Energy began to boil all around her... buzzing with in a half-dozen angry voices that Sarah could neither hear nor understand.   All she could sense was their anger.   And fear.

"What are you afraid of?"  she asked aloud.   "What?"

The anger kept rising.  But out of the midst of it came something else.

"They want to show me,"  said Sarah.

"Show you what?"

"I'm going to find out.   Dr. Hixon, some strange things may happen in the next few minutes... I can't tell you what, because I don't know yet.   Use your best judgement... if things seem like they're getting out of control, run and get the others.  If you can."

"I-If?"

Sarah nodded.   She took a deep breath... her chest rose and fell slowly as she closed her eyes.

"Okay,"  she whispered.  "Show me."

---
 

"What if we don't find him,"  said Lindsay.   She and Dr. Jeffries had just reached the top of the stairs, where the doctor paused briefly to shine his light down the length of the hallway.    There was nothing there but the same familiar rooms where they had attempted to sleep.    Sarah had said that the upstairs rooms were less active.    Considering what had transpired so far, Lindsay would have hated to see what would have happened if they'd slept in the downstairs rooms.

They'd probably ALL be missing now, instead of just one.

"We probably won't,"  said Dr. Jeffries.  "But we have to look anyway.   He's my son, and I have to do something!"

Dr. Jeffries reached the first room... the room where that he and his son has shared.   He opened the door and looked in.

Nothing.

He stepped across the hall to the next room.  Nothing.

"So, we check all the rooms, and then what?"  said Lindsay.

"By then, the Sampler should be operational again.    THEN we'll get my son back."

"The Sampler?  How will that help... it's just an instrument-"

"You obviously weren't paying attention to the test.  It's much more than an instrument."

"Well, I DID have my head buried in data... but I don't understand how you're going to use it to get Kyle back."

"One at a time, Ms. Lindsay,"   Dr. Jeffries turned to look at her.    "They took my son.  They will return him... or I will tear them apart one at a time.   Beginning with the girl."

Lindsay shuddered.   She knew that Dr. Jeffries didn't actually consider these 'ghosts' to be actual human souls... but what he proposed was cruel, even if he'd been talking about something as decidedly non-living as a chair or a table.

But then, in this house, chairs and tables weren't necessarily non-living.

Lindsay placed a hand on the doctor's shoulder to comfort him.

"We'll find him,"  she said in a soft voice.   "We won't rest until we do."

Lindsay leaned toward the doctor... tilting her head and parting her lips slightly.   Dr. Jeffries pulled away.

"Your timing needs a lot of work, Ms. Hilliard,"  he said as he turned toward the next door.   It was Dr. Hixon's room.   Jeffries tried the latch.  It turned, but the door didn't budge.

"Locked?"  said Lindsay.

"No.  Stuck."

The doctor tried it again, this time he threw his weight against the door to dry and dislodge it.   It won't move.

"Help me,"  he said.

On the third try, Lindsay threw her shoulder against it.   She expected the obstinate door to rebuff them, but instead it flew open suddenly, dumping them both into the bedroom.  They fell, and a howling gust of cold, musty wind blew in from the hallway behind them.   The unnatural wind circled the room like a miniature cyclone, growing stronger and faster...

"What-"  Lindsay began as she started to rise

"Keep your HEAD down, woman!"  Dr. Jeffries shouted.    He grabbed her head an forced her back down to the floor.   Then he threw his arm across her to hold her in place, since the wind would have surely sent her spiraling around the chamber if given the chance.

But their combined weight managed to keep them secure as the icy tornado swept the room.   Dr. Hixon's briefcase rested against a wall near the door... the indoor windstorm picked up the case and flung it violently through the air.   It orbited the room several times... picking up speed as it went... before finally slamming into the same wall from which it had been snatched.   The briefcase came apart on impact.   Both halves separated and flew in opposite directions, releasing the case's contents into the room.   A storm of papers fluttered around Lindsay and Dr. Jeffries like thin white bat.

And then... as if it had accomplished what it had come to do... the wind gave a last, mighty heave and then died.  In the span of a second, it had faded to a gentle breeze... and then to a barely tangible sigh... and then it was gone entirely.  It left the bedroom door wide open, and the floor covered with papers from Dr. Hixon's briefcase.

"Oh, my God..."  Lindsay gasped.  "What-"

"Don't waste your time asking what it was... when you already know good and well what it was,"  said the doctor.  He removed his arm from across Lindsay's body and slowly stood.   Then he helped her to her feet.

"Thanks,"  she said.  "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."  The doctor aimed his flashlight around the room.

"I'm okay, too,"  Lindsay offered.

"I noticed as much."

"Don't you think that's odd... considering... you know....  I mean, we're both okay."

"The offending spirit is afraid of us, no doubt.   Ms. Bishop has been saying as much since our arrival.    They probably took Kyle because he's young and weak.    Whatever the reason... he isn't here."

Lindsay had been listening to Dr. Jeffries when he started talking, but by the time he finished, her attention was fixed on something else.   She shined her own light at one of the dozens of pages littering the floor.

"Hey,"  she said as she picked one up.  "Hey, have you seen these?"

"What is it?"  Dr. Jeffries looked over her shoulder.

"Notes."

It was a photocopy of a handwritten page, bearing a date and time in the upper left corner:  The date way May 3, 1986.

"It's the Jameson research,"  said Dr. Jeffries.  "I'm aware of it."

"Yeah, but have you SEEN it?"

"Why?"

"Read it..."

Lindsay waited while Dr. Jeffries scanned the words on the page.  She watched his face... saw his brow furrow and his lips turn downward into a frown.

"This is nonsense,"  he said.

"And so is this one,"  said Lindsay.  She snatched another sheet of paper and held it up.   Dr. Jeffries looked at it, and then at the rest of the notes on the floor.

"Gather them,"  he ordered.   "Something is not right here..."
 

---

The spirit entered her roughly, like the clumsy thrust of an inexperienced lover.   It hurt.  Sarah's eyes opened as the storm of sensations swallowed her.   She saw the room, and glimpsed an assembly of ephemeral shapes standing around her.

And then she saw nothing.

The wiskey was a river of fire oozing slowly down her throat.  She coughed half of it back up, only to catch it between tightly-sealed lips and greedily swallow it all back down again.

"Ahhh..."  she grunted, wiping her damp lips with the back of her right hand.   Her left hand still held the old, dirty bottle.    The light-brown liquid inside barely covered the bottom.   Or did it?   As she tried to focus, the one bottle split into three... and together, the kaleidoscope of whiskey circled her face like a carousel.    The street in front of her faded away into an obscure blur.

She could barely make out the townsfolk as they walked past.  Most of them quickly turned away before they could meet her/his drunken stare.  They pretended not to see him.  They walked past the alley as if he weren't there.   And, when he eventually passed out, they would calmly step over him and go on about their business as if he hadn't existed.   But just because they wouldn't look at him, didn't mean he couldn't look at them.

They were funny.   The rich folk in their fancy clothes... the poor folk in their rags.   All sharing the same street... although on different sides more often than not.    But they were all the same... all just blurs swaying in the imaginary wind that was slowly pushing him over.

"heee, heeeee..."  he laughed for no reason.   He downed the last of his whiskey.   The bottle left his lips just in time for him to greet two of the fancy ladies who were trying so hard to ignore him.  "'ellowww, misssesses,"  he hissed.   One woman held her frilly handkerchief up to her nose and hurried away.   The other tugged on her husband's arm and pointed.   The husband pulled her away with comical suddenness.

Suddenly feeling nature's call, he retreated back into the alley and fumbled around in his pants until he found the proper equipment.   Then... hand firmly grasping his manhood... he urinated in his pants while pointing his thumb at the wall.

Just when he was wondering why everything was getting so warm, he passed out.

When he woke up, it was dark.   It was dark, and he wasn't nearly as drunk as he wanted to be.   His bottle was gone.  His pants were damp.  His head hurt.   And he had to piss again.

"I'll be damned,"  he muttered with sharp, fetid breath.

"Damned you be,"  came a reply.

He turned to face the man that was standing between him and the street.   It was an old, thin man with a shocking mop of pure white hair perched atop his head like a bird's nest.

"Damned to an eternity of hellfire   Don't you even CARE about your immortal soul, John Parker?"

"Pastor Kitchens,"  John mumbled.  "I don' know nuttin 'bout no souls... but if they got whiskey in hell, then I'll be the FIRST in line at the pit 'o fire!   HA!"

The pastor looked into John's bloodshot eyes, and John's drunken levity shriveled under the man's authoritarian glare.    John had forgotten who he was talking to for a moment.  But now he remembered.    He shrank away from the pastor like a abused dog before a cruel master.

"I'm sorry, pastor,"   he said.   John prepared himself for the stern and fiery sermon that he knew he was about to receive.   But perhaps if he groveled enough, the pastor would cut it short.   Maybe even buy him a drink!  No... no, probably not.   "I hope I didn't offend-"

"You ARE an offense, John Parker.  An offense to this town.  An offense before God and his Holy Son.   You're a drunkard and a idolater.   You don't worship the good Lord, no, YOUR god comes in a bottle... and you worship him with a fervor and devotion the likes of which I rarely see in my congregation.   While the good people of this town tend to Godly matters, YOU are wallowing in your own vomit before the sun even hits noon-day!"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry,"  The pastor repeated coldly.

John ventured a look at the pastor's face.   He expected the normal look of pity or disgust that he normally got  But what he saw in Pastor Kitchens' eyes was something else.

"The Lord hates sin, Mr. Parker,"  said the pastor.  "And so do I."

"What-cha talkin' bout there, pastor?   You sayin... you sayin' you hate me?"

"October Falls is a troubled place.  Troubled.  Tainted by the sin and corruption of people like you.   God is watching, and he does not like what he sees.   Drunks and harlots.   Adulterers and idolaters..."

Pastor Kitchens advanced on John with small, determined steps.   Though the pastor was older and smaller than John, the drunk backed way before the man's sheer, dominating presence.

"A drunkard is a waste of God's creation, Parker... but you... you're something worse.     Do you even know what today is?"

"I..."   John's whisky-soaked mind stumbled through this smudged and tattered memory.   A few thoughts managed to fall into place, leading to a revelation which blurted from his mouth amid a spray of spittle.   "It's SUNDAY!"

Pastor Kitchens took more steps toward him, and John kept backing away.

"Sunday,"  the paster said.  "The Lord's day, when the few GOOD men of October Falls gather to worship Him.  And what do YOU do, John Parker?   You plant yourself here within smelling distance of my church... and you ACCOST the Lord's children with your foul stench and drunken ramblings!   On the LORD'S DAY, John Proctor!"

"I- I didn't know... h-honest-"

"The Lord has seen your sin this day, John Parker.   He has seen it and has cried out from the heavens that your sin is in need of swift and unerring judgement-"

John's back bumped up against the back wall of the alley.   The moonlight cast a sinister glow over Pastor Kitchens' face as he stood before the drunk.

"And I, His humble servant, have heard my Master's cry.   You, will bespoil this town no longer, John Parker."

"Huh... what-"

Had John's eyes not been blurred he would have seen the broken whisky bottle in the pastor's hand. Had his reflexes not been dulled by a lifetime of drink... he would had the speed to dodge the jagged glass claw before its talons reached his throat.    But he had none of these things, and the first warning the drunk received was the flash of pain as his flesh split.  He felt something warm, and saw the fountain of scarlet pouring down his chest.   John clamped his hands to what remained of his throat.   He tried to pull away from a blow that had already come and gone.    He lost his balance and collapsed at the pastor's feet.  He looked up at the man who'd struck him down-

"Ya...ya... ya ki-k-"   John's words were choked off by his own blood.   Tears and fear pooled in his eyes, even as the life drained out of them.   The last thing he saw was the pastor's face framed by the cold and sinister moonlight....

The breath exploded from Sarah's lungs in a powerful gust as the tormented spirit left her.    With its departure, Sarah's mind and muscles un-clenched all at once.  The sudden, dizzying  release nearly deposited her on the hardwood floor.  The psychic staggered backward, senses still reeling from what she had just experienced.

"...he killed him,"  she managed to gasp.

"Who?"  Dr. Hixon rushed up behind her.

"Stay back!"  Sarah warned.   As she turned toward him, she saw something else approaching.  A roiling knot of emotions... a shimmering shadow reaching out for her...  "No, it's too soon!"  Sarah objected.  "I need time to recov-AAAaaa..."

The ghost's entrance was gentle, yet insistent.    Sarah could have resisted had the first spirit not left her weakened and vulnerable.   But in her current state, her spiritual defenses yielded easily, handing control of her senses over to the spirit that now possessed her...

The grunting thrust of her lover's hips brought little in the way of pleasure, but it was enough.    He was the third one tonight, and what he lacked in finesse, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.  He would learn the rest in time.  Perhaps SHE would be the one to teach him... perhaps not.  It depended on how long his money held out.   For now, he gave her just enough to keep her on the edge... just enough to keep the fire of her own loins burning as she thought about the ones who would follow.  She ran through the upcoming appointments in her mind.   Oh, yes... the NEXT one would be spectacular.  The mere thought of him brought a moan to her lips... and her lover of the moment took it as a sign to intensify his efforts.   Good.    Very good.   She wrapped her legs around him and guided his clumsy thrusts with her thighs, placing him just where she wanted him to be.   He followed obediently, and she rewarded him with another moan.   She grasped and stroked his manhood with her womanly skill.   Her lover's eyes, which had been tightly clenched, popped open.   His groans of pleasure filled the room, but were quickly swept away by the sound of all hell breaking loose.

WHAM!

The bedroom door flew open as if kicked in by an angry mule.

Her lover... who's name she could not remember at the moment... twisted awkwardly to see who had dared interrupt them.  He saw... and then he was gone.    He jerked away from her so fast that he tossed himself right out of the bed.   She whimpered at the sudden emptiness, but then snickered at the THUMP of her lover hitting the floor.   He got up and snatched the filthy sheet away from her to cover his own lusty nakedness.

"Hey!"   she protested.   But she saw his terrified stare and followed it to its source... the stern, slim figure standing in the doorway watching them both.

"P-P-Pastor Kitchens!"  her lover stuttered.   His lips were trembling so badly that he had begun drooling on himself.

Suddenly aware of her own nakedness, she reached for the sheet that her lover clutched tightly about his fear-shriveled loins.   He moved away, leaving her naked and alone on the bed.

Fine.  She'd just have to be naked, then.

She closed her legs and propped herself up on her elbows.

"How DARE you come in here like this!"  she spat.

"How dare I?!"  Pastor Kitchens replied with mouth full of venom.   "Who are YOU to question the works of God's servant!"

"Oh, spare me-"

"The LORD will not spare you, HARLOT!   Nor YOU, Marlon!"

At the mention of his name, her lover trembled like a startled rabbit.

"I- I-  I was... was..."

"Your sins pile deep enough, Marlon,"  said the pastor.  "Do not weave lying into the net of irons that will surely drag you down to hell should you not change your ways.   YOU were a good and proper boy, once.   Baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ by my own hand.  You disappoint me AND the Lord with your transgressions, but your soul can still be saved... UNLIKE HERS!"

"GET OUT OF HERE, you proselytizing old FOOL!"  she cried.

"Not until the Lord's work is done,"  said the pastor.  "Marlon... remove yourself from this place.  Forget this night... and this woman... and PERHAPS the Lord will forgive you."

"Y-yes, P-Pastor Kitchens!"

Marlon dropped the stained sheet just long enough to squirm into his pants.  Then, still half-naked, he sprinted from the room.   Pastor Kitchens closed the door behind him.

"What's the matter?"  she said.  "Couldn't wait for a turn like everyone else?"

"To blaspheme a man of God is to blaspheme the Lord himself."

"But this isn't about the Lord, is it pastor?   This is about someone else.  Someone a bit closer to you, maybe?  How's your son doing... haven't seen him in a while."

"With much atonement and repentance, the Lord has seen fit to FORGIVE him.   But there IS no repentance for one such as YOU!   You-"  Pastor Kitchens pointed an accusing finger at her.  "Are a WHORE among WHORES!   Every MAN in this city can blunt their lusts with your flesh for a few paltry dollars, and yet THAT is not enough for you!  You have to go and SEEK OUT men among the Lord's flock and LURE them away!"

"I don't have to lure anybody anywhere-"

"GOOD men, lead to their damnation by the stench of your womanhood.   My son among them!"

"Your son was a joke!   The worst lover I've ever known!  You should be happy I was willing to teach him how to pleasure a woman."

"He was but a BOY!"

"Oh, please, pastor...  he was man enough then, and he certainly is now.   But why are you just NOW coming to me about things that happened years ago-"

"Because this night, the Lord has sent a DECREE to his servant, that the worst among us must be CLEANSED if this city is to be saved."

"There's no saving October Falls, pastor.  Everybody knows that-"

"Not while we allow WHORES like you to suck away our innocence with promises of the flesh!"

"Promises of the flesh?"  she said with a sarcastic smile.  "What... you mean this?"

She spread her legs wide, revealing her sex to him.    Pastor Kitchens didn't even glance at it.  He kept his burning eyes fixed firmly on her own... and then he started toward the bed.

For a second, she thought the pastor meant to force himself upon her.   The very idea brought a flash of warmth to her loins.  Then she saw his face.  His eyes.  She felt the burning hatred that poured forth from his body like a lighthouse beacon.

She drew herself up and tried to kick at him as he approached the bed.  The pastor swatted her legs away; his iron knuckles left black bruises on her skin.

"AAA!"  she yelped.   The pastor reached for her.  "HELP!  SOMEBODY HEL-"   His long, thin fingers clamped down on her throat and choked her words off at the source.   She squirmed and kicked and punched and slapped, but Pastor Kitchens would not be thrown off of his murderous intention.   He grasped her neck with both hands and shook her violently as he choked the life from her.   Her eyes bulged obscenely... staring up at her murderer in a silent plea for mercy.

But there was no mercy in Pastor Kitchens' eyes.   Only a dark and angry rage that drove his fingernails into her flesh like talons.   She grasped his wrists and tried to force his hands away, but even the strength of desperation wasn't enough to dislodge the insane holy man's grasp.    His vigorous shaking whipped her head back and forth like a doll.  Tiny blood vessels ruptured in her eyes, face, and tongue.  Her pale skin reddened... then took on a bluish color.   Her loosely flapping tongue turned purple as she died, and all she could do was gag and spit.   She had no air with which to scream.   No strength with which to fight.  Her eyes continued to beg for her life, but the pastor continued pouring his hate down upon her.

"Judgment is upon you, Harlot!"  he hissed.   The pastor's spittle showered her discolored face.  "But HELL will not have you, this night!  The lord has ordained a special torment for your filthy soul!  Ohhh, yes!!!    Die, now, harlot, for the REDEEMER awaits!  And once he has you, you'll long for the pits of hellfire the same way you burn for the manly flesh of this town's innocents!"

"...mommy?"  came a timid voice from the door.   She felt a pause in the pastor's throttlings as he turned to see who had entered.   Her five-year-old daughter stood watching the murder from the hallway.

The pastor froze... hands still clamped around her throat.   His insane sneer flickered for a moment... and then returned with twice the intensity as it had before.

"Like mother like daughter?"  he said.  "The daughter of a whore is destined to be a whore herself!  Judgment comes for you AND your whore-spawn this night!"

She tried to cry out... tried to tell her daughter to flee this madman.   But with no breath and no strength, all she could do was squirm weakly and moan like the whore she was.

"SHUT UP!"

The pastor removed his hands from her throat, but before she could take her first breath, he grabbed her chin and her forehead and twisted sharply.

-CRACK-

---

"Hand me the soldering iron again,"  said David.

Anthony handed his friend the tool and watched as David began to re-assemble the Sampler's capacitor bank.   The generator hummed quietly beside them, supplying power to the lights as well as the tools that David had been using almost non-stop since his return from the garden.   After bypassing the protective relays on the generator, David began what amounted to a complete overhaul of the Sampler's field circuits.  He removed and re-arranged components... he re-soldered connections and replaced vital fuses with solid pieces of metal.  It was obvious that he was trying to squeeze more power out of the Sampler, but Anthony couldn't figure out why.   The machine had worked fine before, and now, after all these adjustments, they would have to run it through the whole battery of tests from the beginning... something Dr. Jeffries certainly wasn't going to like.   Anthony didn't care too much for it either.

"Okay, I understand why we were adjusting the field-guides,"  said Anthony.  "Those things were fucked-up anyway.  But why are you fucking with the capacitors?"

"Just tweaking the frequency a little,"  David grunted.

"Dude... the freq is fine.   You saw what we got before."

"We're after something a little different this time.  Gotta get this baby tuned in just right."

"So, what... are you doing the equations in your head?"

"You could say that."

"You gonna share 'em with me or what... because to me it just looks like you're fucking with shit just to fuck with it.   Normally I don't have a problem with that, but seeing as how that machine is the only thing standing between-"

"Are you going to let me work or not?"  said Anthony.   He stepped back from the machine and held the soldering iron like a knife.  A thin curl of smoke rose from the tip.   "Eh?"

"If you fuck this machine up-"

"I'm not gonna fuck it up.  Trust me."

Anthony looked into his friend's eyes, and decided to back off.   After all, David helped build and design the machine... he had as much right to screw with it as anyone else.

"Okay,"  he said.

David returned to his work.  He leaned into the Sampler's chassis and continued his tinkering.   Anthony stood behind him and watched.  He leaned closer to get a good look at what David was doing to the capacitors,  and, for the first time, Anthony realized that David wasn't working as silently as he'd thought.   He was mumbling something... or singing... Anthony couldn't tell for sure.   Whatever it was, it was repetitive... almost like a mantra.

"What are you saying, dude?"  said Anthony.

"Nothing,"  David replied.  "I ain't saying anything.  Why... you hear something?"

"No,"  Anthony lied.   "Nothing."

---

Lindsay went around the room and grabbed the papers from the floor, briefly examining each one.   Most of them made more sense than the first pages she'd seen, but some were... disturbing.  The notes seemed to be an hourly log of the Jameson party's research.   Each entry occupied its own page, and some of the pages seemed to be missing.   But the date and the time in the corner of each page made it easy for Lindsay to assemble what she had.

"It starts off normal enough,"  she informed the doctor, who was searching the remains of Dr. Hixon's briefcase.

"Read it."

"May 2nd, 1986.  9:00am.

First Entry - Cole Orphanage (October Falls, GA)
We've arrived at the house only 30 minutes ago, and have spent the intervening time unpacking our belongings.  I must admit that my expectations of this place are rather high, given its past, both recent and historical.  I admit this reluctantly, since, as a man of science, I must not allow my own doubts or feelings to influence the objective nature of what we are here to do... BUT, expectations or no, I am fully and completely impressed by what we've seen so far.   While we have encountered no truly paranormal phenomena (at least not in my opinion), this place does have certain qualities that are more than keeping with what I already know of its nature.
Our psychics... Madam Grace, Thurgood Ramsey, and Zell Horner... all felt distinct emanations from this place as soon as we crossed the main gate.  (It should be noted that Ramsey and Grace noticed these things first, and Horner only later.   My previous work with Horner has revealed his 'psychic' ability to be nonexistent at best.   He is a charlatan, to put it bluntly.    Still, he will make an adequate control with which I can contrast the findings of the truly gifted).   Ramsey said that he felt an intense fear from the house as we approached.   Grace indicated a deep and somewhat sinister excitement... a longing or desire.   The exact word she used was 'Hunger,' although she is a bit of a show-woman herself and does tend toward the dramatic in her choice of description.     For completeness, I will include Horner's impression as well:  He said that he felt a raw emptiness that seemed centered around some unseen place in the garden.   He seemed unusually disturbed by this... more so than Grace and Ramsey were by their respective impressions.
But our first findings weren't in the realm of the psychics alone.  Upon entering the house we all noticed the queerness of the light in the hallway, the stairs, and the adjoining rooms.  Darkness seemed to gather in certain places like water seeking a low ditch.   Even when lit by candles,  flashlights, and sunlight from the windows, these places... most noticeably the hallway to the downstairs bedrooms... were abysmally black more often than not.   Sometimes there appeared to be shadows moving within the shadows... a physical impossibility, to be sure.
I suppose I should credit Zell Horner for the other notable first impression, even though it is not due to him, but rather to his dog.    Zell's hound... a small black mutt... was extremely agitated from the moment we arrived.   In fact, the dog began to shiver and whine even before we had passed the main gate.    Upon exiting the vehicle, the dog became so frightened that it howled, urinated, and defecated almost continuously for several minutes.   Horner went to great lengths to try and calm the animal down, and, having only moderate success, was forced to place the animal on a leash rather than let it run freely through the house.   We were expecting the animal to be reluctant to enter the house, but once the door was open, the tiny creature nearly yanked Horner across the threshold by the leash.   Apparently it either had a change or heart, or it wasn't the house that had frightened it so... but rather something OUTSIDE the house."

Lindsay flipped to the next page and kept reading:

"May 2nd, 1986.  10:00am
Cole Orphanage (October Falls, GA)

My photographer, Dennis Fullerton, has succeeded in becoming the first victim of the house's more playful spirits.   No sooner had he unloaded his rather large array of camera and recording equipment than several of the more expensive pieces went missing.   When he pulled me aside to inform me of this development, his intention was clearly that one of the others had stolen his prized cameras.   This was not the case.   I had witnessed him bringing in the equipment himself... and, from the time he brought it in to the time he noticed it missing (no more than five minutes), everyone except Ms. Hamby was in my sight.   I assured him that my research assistant was no thief, and also that he himself had not misplaced the items.   Someone other than the members of the party had taken them.   When I presented this to the others, Mr. Horner seemed somewhat amused.   Grace and Ramsey both reported that the spirits in the house did not condone our presence and that the theft of equipment was perhaps a warning that we were not wanted.   Neither of them could tell us where the cameras where, which seemed to annoy Fullerton.     Having very little else to do until night fall, we conducted a tour of the house, with the ostensible purpose of finding Fullerton's property.   We found nothing, but we did familiarize ourselves with the house.    Horner's dog... who's bladder and bowels were mercifully empty... whined and protested the entire time.   He was unusually reluctant to enter the downstairs hallway.    Madam Grace informed us that some of the rooms were 'occupied.'   These rooms, of course, were our first stops.   Fullerton snapped several pictures, but none of us saw anything unusual... except for the odd shadows and the disturbing reluctance of Horner's hound.  One room had a strong odor of smoke and ash, but there was no sign of any fire damage to the walls or floor.   We took note of the room and moved on.    When we returned to the living room, two more of Fullerton's cameras were missing.   Horner couldn't contain his laughter, which became contagious.  We all had a good laugh at Fullerton's misfortune, but I later assured him that if the equipment didn't turn up, the university would reimburse him for it.
On another note, Ramsey said that he felt a child's presence in one of the downstairs rooms.   He suggested that this child might be our best hope for a positive contact during tonight's seance "

"Stuff like this goes on for the next few entries,"  said Lindsay.  "They take some pictures of stuff... see some ghosts...I guess those are the ones we saw earlier.   Some creepy stuff happens, but nothing nearly as bad as what we've seen."  Lindsay flipped further back in the pile of notes.  "AH!.. I think this is where the shit hits the fan.   Remember when Hixon said that Jameson's group didn't know about the garden?"

"Yes?"

"Check this out:"

"May 3nd, 1986.  10:00pm
Cole Orphanage (October Falls, GA)

Never in my life have I seen a place so vile and disturbing.   When we discovered the hidden garden alcove earlier today, it's eeriness was enough to almost demand that we hold our second seance there instead of in the house.   But once we arrived with candles and folding chairs to set about the actual work, we found the place in much worse... much more sinister condition than when we had left it.   Whatever ancient waterworks must have powered the ruined fountain have again sprung to life.   The ground in the secret sanctum is now a lake of dark black mud which we dare not attempt to cross.    The place is alive with small white worms of a most vile nature.  They are everywhere, but they swarm over the fountain's remains like maggots in rotted meat.  Entire sheets of them reacted to our presence by stretching themselves erect and pointing toward us... their tiny mouths opening and closing greedily.   The sight was disturbing to say the least.
Naturally, we abandoned our plans.   The psychics, Ramsey and Grace, expressed their extreme disapproval of our presence there.   We were about to start back to the house when certain events transpired that I am reluctant to relate.   My reluctance stems not only from the terrible grotesqueness of the thing, but also from the uncertainty of the facts about which none of us could agree afterward.   All we could say was that, at this point, SOMETHING happened... and at the end of it, we were all equally shaken by what we thought we had seen.   I say equally, but that is in fact untrue.   Zell Horner endured the worst of it by far, and even now we are unsure whether the man's consciousness... indeed, his very soul... will be able to bear the horrors he must have witnessed.  Horrors that we did not see, and that I would not want to see despite all the lofty ideals of scientific curiosity responsible for our presence here.    As I re-read the last few lines, I see that my reluctance has devolved into base rambling, and so I must force myself to continue with the account as I witnessed it:
We had seen the abysmal lake of filth and turned from it, intent on fleeing the place and performing the second seance within the closed walls of the house.    The first step had not yet been taken when, from that very same house we presumed to be safe, there arose cacophony of sounds the likes of which have never heard.   It started with screaming.   A loud, unholy shrieking that is impossible for a sane man to describe in full.    I can say that Fullerton and I perceived it to be the screaming of a woman in pain or terror, while Emma Hamby and Madam Grace swore that it was a wail of anger, not pain.    Ramsey was alone in his impression that it was a child's voice.   We never found out what Horner thought it to be.   The screaming was followed by a deep rumbling growl that emanated from far, far beneath the earth.  The entire garden shook with such violence that I had to grab my assistant Emma to prevent her from tumbling into the worm-filled muck.     The rumbling increased in intensity until it was no longer a sound or a vibration... but a physical force that assaulted us from all sides.  And yet we were clearly not the object of this thing's focus.   We were feeling only the fringe effects of something that was originating from the house!   As Emma Hamby held onto me for dear life, the ground continued to shake and rumble with increasing violence.   The lake of mud became a boiling pot of darkness that sprayed bits of itself over us all.   And then there came another sound.   Like claps of thunder, they came... so loud that they were almost unrecognizable.   Gunshots.   Gunshots from inside the house.  One after another, the deafening BOOMS sent shocking bolts of pure fear down my spine.   On how many shots where were, we could never agree, but whatever their number, the mere sound of ONE of them was too much for us to endure.    We scrambled toward the bushes, seeking whatever cover we could.  All except for Horner.   The man stood transfixed by the sounds.  He was frozen to the spot, eyes staring wildly in the direction of the house.  Ramsey and Fullerton ran to get him, but by then the quaking of the ground had increased to such a degree that their gallant charge was reduced to clumsy stumbling amid the muddy rocks.   The roaring that had come from the house grew sharply louder as the gunshots continued.  And then the sound changed... not in intensity or quality, but in location!   The unholy source of the infernal sound was moving!  Moving toward US!    The sharp-leaved bushes rustled violently at the thing's approach, but their warning was too late.  The thing burst into our midst like a speeding train... ripping through the shrubs in front of Horner and continuing in a straight and terrible line toward the lake of mud.    I cannot describe the thing that came.  There are no words in any of God's languages that will even touch at the twisted grotesqueness of it.  And, even if there were, I would not use them, because doing so would summon the image of the thing once more into my mind, and I don't think I could endure that screeching, horrid image again.  I can only say that it was large... larger than any two of the automobiles that had conveyed us to this fearful place.   And from this central mass trailed... things.   I don't know if I should call them shadows or tentacles or hairs or something else... but whatever they were, one of them shot out and wrapped around poor Zell Horner like a lasso as the thing roared past him.   The thing drew tight around his waist and yanked him off of his feet.    Horner screamed like a man insane... by this point he may have been... as his body whipped up into the air.   The creature never even slowed down to inspect the prize it had captured... it just kept going until it reached the lake.    It submerged with powerful splash and was gone in less than an instant.   But that one tentacle remained long enough to wave Horner back and forth in the air several times before following the thing down into the muddy lake.  Horner's terrified screams ended suddenly as he was submerged.  Powerful waves disturbed the surface of the lake where he had gone down... almost as if Horner were still fighting for his life down there in the dark.
At this point, Emma Hamby screamed at the top of her lungs and fainted dead away in my arms.  Grace swooned, and seemed on the verge of following Emma into peaceful slumber, but she somehow managed to cling to consciousness as Fullerton... Fullerton, the quiet cameraman... did the most foolish and incredibly heroic thing that I have ever witnessed.   Fullerton shrugged out of his shirt and took a running leap into the lake where Horner had vanished.   His splash was considerably less than the thing's, but the sound alone shook my soul to the core.    Fullerton had gone after Horner.   The cameraman twisted wildly in the mud... trying to stay afloat while searching the depths with his hands and feet.   Finding nothing, he up-ended himself and dove into the muck.  He was gone for several tense seconds before returning empty-handed.   Ramsey and I both shouted at him to return to safety, but he would not.   He dove again, and remained under the surface so long that I thought he had either drowned or that the thing that had taken Horner had snatched him as well.   But he returned.   And he did not return alone.
He had Horner in a lifeguard's rescue-hold, floating on his back while clasping Horner's unconscious body around the chest.   Only God knows how they managed to stay afloat, but float they did.    Fullerton struggled through the mud until he was close enough for Ramsey to reach.    Ramsey pulled them both from the lake and onto the thin shelf of dry land that surrounded the dark place.     Fullerton was about to administer CPR when a clod of worm-infested mud launched itself from Horner's throat with a mighty cough.   Horner was still alive... and breathing now that he was free of the mud.    We all crowded around him to inspect the damage that the thing must have done to  him... but there was none.  Horner's body and even his clothing was unscathed, save for the mud that clung to every inch of him.   We wiped off as much of the worms as we could, and it was then that we noticed that he was holding something.   It was a rock.  An extraordinarily sharp piece of the shattered fountain, with which Horner must have battled the beast for his freedom.   Now the stone was clasped so firmly in Horner's grasp that, for all of our combined strength, we could not dislodge it.    With Grace's help, we managed to carry both Horner and Emma back to the house, where Emma awakened and Horner still rests in uneasy sleep.  After a quick change of clothing, Fullerton has begun gathering all his remaining equipment while Ramsey assembles everyones belongings.   It take this time to make these hurried notes while the terrible events are fresh in my mind. We will not remain here now... we cannot.  This experiment is concluded.    The only question in our minds is if we shall wait until Horner has regained consciousness, or depart immediately for a medical facility.   Ah!  It seems that our decision is made... I see Horner stirring even now."

Caught up in the narrative, Lindsay went on the next page of notes without pause:

"May 3nd, 1986.  11:00pm
Cole Orphanage (October Falls, GA)

It is worse than I feared.  Much, much worse.   I had hoped that my previous entry would be the last one made from this infernal place... but I am wrong.  God help us.
Horner has awakened, but it is clear now that the man Fullerton fished out of the lake is not the same man that was pulled in.   Horner awoke into a fit of loud and terrible screaming.   He called out in a language that none of us recognized, and then began babbling... in English... about things that confounded us all.  He seemed to be spouting Bible verses, but Madam Grace corrected that notion.   If they were indeed verses of the Bible, they were of some Apocryphal version unknown to her.   Horner droned on about redemption and torment, repeating the same phrase over and over again until we finally concluded that what he had seen in the depths of the garden had driven him totally mad.   Whether the state was permanent or temporary, only a professional could discern.   We resolved to get poor Horner to help as quickly as our vehicles would carry us.   Fullerton was in the process of trying to get Horner on his feet when Horner exploded into a rage.    He lashed out, swinging that sharp stone that he'd dragged up for the depths of the garden.   The stone's sharp edge caught Fullerton across the left temple.   So powerful and angry was the blow that it would have certainly killed Fullerton had Grace's shout not warned him that it was coming.   As it was, the strike was only a glancing blow that nonetheless stunned Fullerton and sent his sprawling into Ramsey's arms.   Seeing an opportunity, Horner leapt to his feet and fled the house... dashing out the front door and leaving the rest of us to see to the dazed cameraman.   Fullerton's wound was not severe, but it would likely require stitches and perhaps treatment for a concussion.   But our real concern was Horner.    He was out of our midst now, so we had no idea of what devilment his now-deranged mind was up to.   There could be no doubt that he was dangerous, but there was also the chance that he could do some harm to himself.  I feel that I am ultimately responsible for the fate that has befallen him,and, despite Grace and Ramsey's urgent protests, I've decided to go out and find Horner before some further evil befalls him.   Or us.
But I am no fool.   I have loaded my revolver, and it sits beside me now as I write these hasty words.   I will make a quick search of the grounds in hopes that Horner will either seek me out, or that I will stumble across him by chance.  I pray that one of those things occurs before I am forced to seek him out in that place... in that evil sanctum where Horner's sanity was torn from him by the indescribable thing.   And yet, something within me knows that it is THERE that I must seek him.  And so I go... weapon in hand... back to the dark, festering heart of this place.    Back to hell.    God help me."

"And here we are with this..."  said Lindsay.  "Last entry."    She held up the page that had first drawn her attention.  It was one of four, all similar.   The handwriting on the sheets was not the smooth script of Dr. Jameson, but was instead a crooked, jagged scrawl that seemed more at home on an asylum wall than on a sheet of paper.  The numerous dark blotches that stained the pages made the curious writing even more difficult to read.   Since the text was a photocopy, it was impossible to tell just what the stains were, but for some reason, Lindsay strongly suspected that it was blood.  Or mud. But despite the stains and the strange script, enough of the words were legible to allow a deciphering of the first half of the first page.  After that, the rest of the pages were easy to deduce, as they were all the same.  Every page... every line... all the same:

"And the Sinners Shall Fear the Redeemer, For The Path to Redemption Is Torment.
And the Sinners Shall Fear the Redeemer, For The Path to Redemption Is Torment.
And the Sinners Shall Fear the Redeemer, For The Path to Redemption Is Torment.
And the Sinners Shall Fear the Redeemer, For The Path to Redemption Is Torment.
And the Sinners Shall Fear the Redeemer, For The Path to Redemption Is Torment.
And the Sinners Shall Fear the Redeemer, For The Path to Redemption Is Torment.
And the Sinners Shall Fear the Redeemer, For The Path to Redemption Is Torment.
And the Sinners Shall Fear the Redeemer, For The Path to Redemption Is Torment.
And the Sinners Shall Fear the Redeemer, For The Path to Redemption Is Torment."

The verse repeated identically on every page until it was finally obliterated by a massive stain on the bottom of the last sheet.

Lindsay and Dr. Jeffries stared at the words... and then at each other.

"Who wrote this?"   said Lindsay.  "Horner?..."

"Or Jameson,"  Dr. Jeffries finished.  "Either way, Dr. Hixon has much to account for.   There are other notes here as well... newspaper clippings.  Pages from books.  Information about the history of this place that he neglected to share with us."

"Man... I always thought Hixon was kinda slimy, but... damn..."

"Let us go and find the good doctor, shall we?"
 

---
 

"AAAAA!!"   Sarah screamed as second the spirit left her.  "Oh, my God...He's a madman..."

"Ms. Bishop-"  Dr. Hixon began.    If the doctor finished his sentence, Sarah never heard it.

The next spirit did not circle tentatively and await her permission as the first had done.  Nor did it enter slowly, like the second.   No, this one came to her with quickness and pain, stabbing deep into her soul like a knife.    Sarah choked on the stench of smoke and ashes as it impaled her mind.  Such POWER!   And ANGER!  It was too much!  She couldn't take it!   Sarah thrust her head back and...

...screamed as the flames began to lick at her legs like a pack of hungry dogs.

"Scream, witch,"  said the shape beyond the curtain of flames.   She saw him standing there, watching her naked body burn.   The heat had already blistered her limbs, and now her skin was beginning to char and blacken.   She screamed into the night sky as she struggled to free herself... but the ropes that bound her to the wooden stake were too strong.  They, too, would burn away, but by then, she would be just a smouldering lump of burnt flesh.   She tried to separate herself from the pain, but it was too much.   And just as the fire tore at her skin, the injustice of it ripped at her soul.   That insane fool... that bastard... he was MURDERING her!

"STOP!"  she screamed.  "PLEASE!"

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!"  was the pastor's only reply.

"PLEASE!  I'm BEGGING YOU!"

She'd said that she wasn't going to beg.  She'd told herself that she wasn't going to give this self-righteous fool the pleasure of hearing her cries... but that was before the fire had been lit.    Before the first tongue of flame had licked her flesh.   Now, she begged.    She pleaded and screamed at the monster to free her.    Fear and panic and pain wrenched the tears from her eyes... tears that boiled away on her blackening cheeks.

"HELLLP MEEEEE!"   The screams were gone.  Now she was howling like some tortured beast...  bellowing out mighty wails of agony:  "AAIIIEEEEEE!!!"

The smell of her own burning flesh filled her nostrils...

"This is but a TASTE of what awaits you in the arms of the Redeemer, witch!"   Pastor Kitchens shouted.   "Worshipper of FALSE GODS!  TEACHER of blasphemy!   Peddler of the UNHOLY!"

"AAAAAEEEAAAAGGGH!"

Pastor Kitchens laughed.  His insane cackling merged with the crackling of the fire... and with the hissing and popping of her flesh as it cooked on her bones.  The thick post to which she'd been bound was aflame now.   Tongues of agony licked at her back and buttocks.  Her hair was on fire.   She could feel her scalp burning.   Flames from the wood piled high around her assaulted her from all directions.   There was no skin on her legs and hips... just burnt flesh and bubbling blood.   Fire caressed her breasts and face like a lover's hands.   With each breath she took in the heat and ash of her own pyre.   She breathed the fire, and it scorched her throat from the inside.    The smoke was so thick that she couldn't see the fire on her own body now.    She could feel it.    She felt it consuming her alive.   She prayed to the Goddess for death... for release from this agony.   She prayed with all her mind and soul, for her body had no lips with which to pray aloud.

And her prayers were answered.   The last of her skin burnt away just as the binding ropes snapped.   She fell forward... right into the heart of the fire.   She landed on the oil-soaked wood.   The fall shouldn't have broken her back, but it did.  A sharp and angry numbness silenced the pain from her extremities.    The flames hissed gleefully.   They boiled the fat and fluids from her still-living corpse, but though she was still conscious, she felt none of it.   She thanked the Goddess for her mercy as the flames chewed the face from her skull...

...there was a quiet darkness that lasted forever... and then voices.

"...we're too late."

"No we're not... there's still time to stop him."

"We can't stop him-"

"Not HIM... but what comes after.  THAT must not be.   It must never come to pas... these souls have suffered enough."

One eye opened and looked up at the smoke-filled sky.  Two souls looked down at her.  If it weren't so dark... so cold... if her eye wasn't half-blocked with the remains of her scorched face, she might have recognized them....

...Thaddius?

A woman gasped.

"She's alive!   That monster left her alive!"

"Elize,"  said a man's voice.  "Elize... we're so sorry.   We didn't know... we couldn't tell.   None of the signs foretold this madness.   But though we've failed to protect your life... this monster will NEVER take your soul.  This, we promise you:  In death, you will be safe from him and his madness.   We will protect you"

And Elize knew that it was true.

Elize breathed her last breath... a thin sigh of ash and smoke and heat... in peace...

...The breath was like the gust of a hurricane that swept Sarah off of her feet.   Thrown backwards by the witch's harsh exit, Sarah collided with Dr. Hixon.   They both fell, but Dr. Hixon had the misfortune of landing first.   Sarah dropped on top him-

"AAAAAK!"  Dr. Hixon screamed.  "Aaa, GOD you're heavy!  Get off!  Get off! ...oh, shit..."

Dr. Hixon's grunts grew weaker, and Sarah realized that she was actually crushing the breath out of him.   She rolled off of the doctor, who quickly scrambled to away.   He got to his feet and did his best to help her up.

"What happened?"  said Hixon.

"I know..."  Sarah replied.  "...I know what happened.   He killed them all!"

"Who?"

"Pastor Kitchens-"

At the mention of the name, the spirits in the room grew violent.   The door opened and slammed repeatedly, and the floorboards began to rattle.  The mirror on the wall shattered.   The angry murmuring of the spirits became intense enough for even Dr. Hixon to hear it.

"What's going on!?!"   he cried.  "What did you do!?"

"The question isn't what I did... its what we're GOING to do!   We have to find the others!"

---

"ALLL RIIIGHT!"  David howled as he slammed the Sampler's chassis shut.   He grabbed the handles on either side of the machine and rotated it away from the bedrooms... turning it toward the kitchen.

"Hey, what are you-"

"ROCKING AND ROLLING!!"  He yanked the main power handle.    In the hallway, the generator groaned as the Sampler began to draw current.   The Sampler gave its characteristic high-pitched whine....

Something in the house screamed.   The single scream was quickly joined by others, forming a chorus of terrified, unearthly voices.

The furniture in the room began to shake.

"STOP!"  Sarah Bishop shouted.  She and Dr. Hixon burst into the room just at Dr. Jeffries and Lindsay reached the bottom of the stairs.  "TURN IT OFF!"

"Ain't NOTHING getting turned off around her unless you think you can get through ME!"  David replied  "And I don't advise trying!"

"DAVID! ANTHONY!"  shouted Dr. Jeffries.   "WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING!"

"Exactly what you wanted, Doc,"  David replied.  "Time to fry us some ghosts.  Starting with Mr. BadAss himself..."

-chink-
-chink-
-chink-

The sound of spurs and heavy footsteps started in the kitchen, and quickly approached the living room.

"OH SHIT!  He's COMING!

"Gooood...."  David reached for the power control, preparing to turn the machine up to full power.

"NO!  DON'T!  You'll PISS HIM OFF!"

"And?"

A semi-solid shape appeared in the small doorway to the kitchen.  It was a man... wearing a poncho and a wide-brimmed hat.  His empty eyes seemed to radiate a dark coldness.  He wore a six-shooter on each hip, and his hands hovered weightlessly above the holsters.

He stared angrily at David.

David stared back.

"STOP!"   Sarah Bishop stampeded across the room, but something small and dark shot out in front of her without warning.  She tripped and fell hard, hitting her head on the floor.

"UNGH!"

Dizziness assaulted her, and as she struggled to get up, she saw what it was that had tripped her.

A small, black dog.

"You're real!"  Sarah gasped.  The dog growled deeply... much too deeply.   It opened its mouth and spat a stream of mud and worms right into Sarah's face

"AAAAH!"   Sarah scrambled away from the hound, clawing and slapping at the worms that wiggled all over face.... worms that only she could see.

Meanwhile, the gunman in the kitchen snapped into sharp, solid focus.

"David, do you have him!?"    said Dr. Jeffries.

"I GOT HIM NOW!"

David grabbed the power knob and twisted it.  The generator grumbled.   The screams in the house got so loud that they became a roar.   The walls began to breath in and out as every door in the house began to open and slam repeatedly.

"The ghosts are pissed, dude,"  said Anthony.

"Fuck 'em!  LOOK!"   David pointed past the machine's Emitter, where the gunman's form was beginning to bulge and warp like an image in a distorted mirror.

"WHERE IS MY SON!"  Dr. Jeffries shouted.  "WHERE IS MY SON!"

"MORE POWER!"   David twisted the knob to its maximum.

"NO!"  Dr. Jeffries warned.  "You'll TEAR IT APART!"

"THAT'S THE IDEA!"

The gunman's shape twisted into something unrecognizable... something not even remotely human.   Long streams of sparking energy began to peel off of its surface and spiral into the Sampler... creating a complex, flower-like pattern in the air.

"YOU'RE KILLING IT!"   said Dr. Hixon.

"YES!" David replied.  "YES, I AM!"

"STOP!   It can't tell us where Kyle is if you DESTROY it!"

"FUCK KYLE!"

"NO!"

Dr. Jeffries ran for the generator, obviously intending to yank the power cord out at the source.  He didn't make it-

-CRACK!-

The wooden floor split, and a huge chasm yawned open between him and the generator.  Jeffries teetered on its edge for an instant... and then fell in.

"AAAA!"

Lindsay's hand appeared at the last instant and grabbed his sleeve.  She pulled him back towards her, but the chasm suddenly widened and threatened to swallow them both.

"HELLLLP!"  Lindsay screamed.  "I CAN'T HOLD HIM!"

"I'VE GOT YOU!"  Dr. Hixon yelled.

"NO!"  Jeffries yelled.  "PULL THE GENERATOR!"  Hixon sprinted across the room... right past the generator... and made a running leap over the chasm.  He grabbed Lindsay around the waist and pulled her back... bringing Dr. Jeffries along with her.

"ANTHONY!"  said Sarah.  Her voice was muffled by the hundreds of worms squirming around in her mouth... trying to wiggle down her throat....  "DESTROY THE MACHINE!  ANTHONY! DESTROY IT!"

Anthony didn't move.  He watched in perverse pleasure as the gunman... the sadistic spirit that had temporarily castrated him with an ethereal bullet... was pulled apart by the Sampler.  The machine stripped the spirit layer by layer, ripping its substance apart with claws of quantum energy.   The gunman struggled in the field.   For an instant he seemed to be pulling his body back together... reclaiming it from the machine.  But the success was as ephemeral as his own failing substance.   Like a muscle failing under strain, the gunman's spirit-form finally yielded to the Sampler.    The twisted shape unraveled, sending the final glowing strands of its being into the Emitter.   The tattered shapes left tiny sparks in the air behind it, and even these were drawn into the Sampler like iron fillings to a magnet.

And then it was gone.

Where the gunman once stood, there was now nothing but air.

David began to laugh.

"Hell, yeah..."  said Anthony.  "Hell Yeah!  HELL FUCKING YEAH!!!!  WE GOT HIS ASS!!!  WHOOOHOOOO!!!"

"Anthony, you FOOL!"  Sarah shouted.   The worms that infested her face were now gone, as was the black dog that had spat them at her.    Across the room Hixon pulled Lindsay and Jeffries out of the chasm just before it slammed shut and vanished, leaving not the slightest mark on the floor.

"Huh?"   Anthony looked around.

"YOU'VE DESTROYED IT!"

"Destroyed it?"  Anthony replied.  "Destroyed it?  Hell... We TORE IT THE FUCK UP!!!  WE TOASTED HIS ASS!"

"YOU'VE KILLED US ALL!"   Said Sarah.

"Eh?"

"This place is a sanctuary!  The gunman was its PROTECTOR!"

"Protector?"  said Dr. Hixon.

"Protector from what?"  said Anthony.

"heh, heh, heh, heh..."  David chuckled.  He slowly turned around to face the others.   As he did, his laughter grew deeper... rougher... more sinister...  "Heh, Heh, Heh...HA, HA HA!!!"

Tiny, hair-thin shadows began to snake across David's face.   The shadows deepened into miniature cracks, which split and multiplied until David's entire body was riddled with them.   Where the cracks intercepted,  Tiny pieces of David's flesh began to fall away, revealing not blood and bone... but fleeting glimpses of the thing inside him... the thing that had worn him like plaster cast and was now discarding him one chunk at a time...

"AAAAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!!"   David's laughter became an inhuman bellow of triumph.  He raised both of his undulating arms... the cracks in his flesh struck out through the air like tiny black tentacles.  They merged with the floor... the walls... the ceiling.... and began to propagate through the house like veins.

"And the Sinners Shall Fear the Redeemer!"  The thing roared.  Anthony watched in horror as the last of David's form shattered and fell away, unleashing the pulsing, indescribable thing beneath.     "For the Path to Redemption.... IS TORRRRMENNNNT!"

[To Be Continued]

Part 4: Torment

Lindsay screamed.   The sound tore free from depths of her soul and burst from her lungs like the cry of a banshee...

But no one heard it.

Not even her.

The howling roar of the Redeemer drowned out her very thoughts.   She trembled at the indescribable shape of it... hovering before Anthony... a vision of terror beyond anything her mind could comprehend.   Finally, her mind could take no more.  It shut down, plunging her into a maddening darkness filled with visions and echoes.   Dr. Hixon tried to grab her as she fell, but his own arms were too weak from fear.  She slipped from his grasp and collapsed... still trembling...

Anthony wished he could join her, but the very thing that has scattered her consciousness held his transfixed.   His mind, body, and soul were all paralyzed as the thing continued to unfold in front of him.   He tried to run... he tried to scream.   Failing both, he tried to at least understand the thing that reached for him.   But he couldn't.   Even the SIGHT of it was a direct defiance of everything he knew.    Its arms... innumerable knots of substance that trailed from its body... undulated in more dimensions than he'd previously thought existed.

They came for him.    Stabbing like daggers, yet rippling like waves through water, they tore black holes in the air as they sought his terrified flesh-

But suddenly something dark and fluid rushed past Anthony's startled face, leaving a stench of smoke and burnt flesh in its wake.    The cloud of black ash circled the Redeemer and began to spiral furiously around it, blasting both it and Anthony with its fury.   The ash scoured Anthony's skin like sandpaper... but it tore at the Redeemer as well.   The impossible creature's roar transformed from one of victory to one of pain as the storm dug into it... ripping at it with millions of invisible claws.  Its tentacles drew back away from Anthony and began slicing at the black storm... tearing away bits of its substance...

"ANTHONY, MOVE!"  someone shouted.

Anthony didn't hear.

The Redeemer flexed... its body both shrank and expanded as it threw the stinging cloud off of it.   The swarm of ash streaked across the room, once again rushing past Anthony... this time with enough force to knock him back.

Anthony fell, and the sudden jolt loosened the Redeemer's hold on his mind just enough-

"ANTHONY, GET AWAY!"  Sarah cried.

Anthony was already scrambling for safety.

Meanwhile the ash-cloud had condensed into a dark, burnt shape that hung in the air before the Redeemer.   The witch wasted no effort with words or warnings... she just opened her mouth and spat a lance of blinding white flame that licked along the Redeemer's form(s).    The Redeemer twisted and writhed in the flames, then gave a defiant roar.   Dozens of ghostly tentacles stabbed into the witch... impaling her chest, face, and limbs with impossible needles of darkness.  The witch convulsed as they tore at her... slowly pulling her apart.   Her mouth widened, but instead of a scream, she belched forth a tremendous ball of crackling fire.    The knot of flame struck the Redeemer squarely in the center of its substance... where it exploded into thick ropes of fire that grasped it like a giant fist.

The Redeemer's roar shook the entire house.   The creature held for a terrifying instant... and then it fled before the witch's assault.  But the victory was not without cost.  The Redeemer pulled back quickly, ripping its appendages out of the witch's body.   The ghost screamed as the Redeemer tore out dark chunks of her substance and shot down the front hallway...

"WATCH OUT!"

Dr. Hixon and Dr. Jeffries scattered, with Dr. Jeffries dragging Lindsay's unconscious body aside just as the creature surged past.   Dr. Jeffries wasn't quite quick enough.

One of the Redeemer's flailing tentacles lashed across his left forearm...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRGGGH!"   Dr. Jeffries dropped Lindsay and fell to the floor beside her... grasping his arm.   He screamed until his lungs were empty.  Then, hissing and trembling, he toppled over on top of Lindsay.

The fleeing Redeemer struck the front door like a shot from a cannon.    The impact thundered through the house... but the monster passed through the door as if it was merely an illusion.   The shuddering of the house rose to a frightening crescendo... and then faded away...

A long and terrifying silence followed.

"...what...the...fuck..."   Anthony gasped when he could finally force his lungs to draw air.

"My God,"  Sarah whispered.   Her chest heaved as she caught her breath.  "Oh my God, we did it.    The only thing they have to fear... and we've left them completely at its mercy-"

"We need some HELP over here!"  Dr. Hixon's labored voice called out.   He was trying to pull Dr. Jeffries off of Lindsay, but the doctor's muscles were clenched so tightly that he was nearly impossible to move.

"Don't touch me,"  Jeffries grunted.  "AAH, it hurts...dammit..."

"Come on, old man..."   Anthony helped Hixon move Jeffries to one side.

"It touched him,"   said Sarah.

"No shit."   Anthony rolled down Dr. Jeffries sleeve down to expose the forearm that the Redeemer had grazed.   The shirt was unharmed, but the Redeemer's touch had left its mark on the flesh beneath.  A thin black stripe stretched from Dr. Jeffries' elbow all the way to his wrist.  The mark was solid black, but it wasn't a burn... at least, not a burn from an ordinary flame.   The surface of the skin was barely disturbed, but the underlying layers of flesh were scorched crisp all the way to the bone.   Dr. Jeffries' arm had been cooked from within... and the infernal process continued as Anthony watched.  Tiny, twinkling embers still glowed deep within the charred stripe.  "Oh shit, doc.... does... does that hurt?"

"Of COURSE it hurts, you moron!"   Dr. Jeffries hissed.  He tried to snatch his arm from Anthony's grasp, but the sudden movement unleashed spasms of intense pain.   The old man wailed like a child and curled up into a ball on the floor.

"Doc!"   Anthony grabbed his arm by the bicep and straightened it as Dr. Jeffries howled in agony.   The black stripe on the doctor's forearm was already noticeably wider.   "We need a doctor!   A REAL doctor!  Somebody do something!"

"...belt..."  Dr. Jeffries moaned.  "T-tie it off..."

"Right!"    Anthony removed his belt and looped it around the doctor's arm above the affected area.  He pulled the makeshift tourniquet tight.  "Good idea."

"Tighter,"   Dr. Jeffries ordered.   Anthony pulled the belt tighter.  "TIGHTER!"

"OKAY!"

"TIGHTERRRR!! ARRRRGH!"

"That's as tight as it gets, doc..."

"... tie it off..."

Anthony tied the belt in a knot.     Dr. Jeffries' arm was already beginning to turn purple... not from the Redeemer's touch, but from the complete lack of circulation.

"Doc, we can't leave it like this-"

"DON'T touch it!  It's fine."   Dr. Jeffries sat up and rolled his sleeve back down.  He winced as the cloth touched his skin.   "It's fine,"  he repeated.    "Thank you."

"Lindsay's okay,"  said Dr. Hixon.   Dr. Hixon had propped Lindsay up and was gently tapping her on the cheeks, trying to bring her around.   She mumbled a few words and her eyelids fluttered.    She came awake suddenly.   Her eyes popped open as she opened her mouth to scream... but she caught herself before the cry could erupt.    She looked around...

"What-?"

"That's what we'd ALL like to know,"  said Dr. Jeffries.   With Anthony's help, the doctor got to his feet.  "Dr. Hixon... I suggest you begin explaining yourself."

"Me?"

"Yes, you!"   Lindsay scrambled away from him, then stood up.  "You and your notes!   You knew all about this place!   Dr. Jameson's party didn't just find a bunch of ghosts, they found that... THING... in the garden!   It came after them!   It got inside Dr. Jameson and it killed them all!   And YOU KNEW!   YOU brought us here and you KNEW what was going to happen!"

"Hey, wait a minute... I didn't know-"

"We found your briefcase, doctor,"  said Jeffries.  "We know some of you've been hiding things from us... the question is how much MORE is there?   And will ANY of it get my son back!"

"I don't know anything about your son!"  Dr. Hixon protested.

"LIAR!  You led us into this trap on purpose!  Now, I DEMAND to know-"

"I don't know ANYTHING!"  said Dr. Hixon.  "Okay, there's a bit of history about this place that I've been keeping secret, but I didn't want prior knowledge to taint our results-"

"A BIT OF HISTORY!?!?!"   Dr. Jeffries bellowed.  "HISTORY!?   EVERYONE who's ever spent ONE night in this house has either died, disappeared, or GONE INSANE!"

"Wait, wait, wait..."    Anthony stepped between Jeffries and Hixon.   He turned to Jeffries.  "So... you're saying that this guy knew some shit about this place that he wasn't telling the rest of us?"

"YES!"  Lindsay shouted.

"Things that could have kept all this shit from happening?"

"YES!"

"Oh..."   Anthony shrugged  "Okay...."   then turned and hit Dr. Hixon in the jaw with a solid right-cross.

KRAK!

"Ahk-"   Dr. Hixon stumbled backward, and Anthony helped him along with an uppercut to the stomach-

WHUMP!

Dr. Hixon tried to double-over, but Anthony shoved him back against the wall.   He threw his left arm across Dr. Hixon's throat and held him there while he peppered Hixon's ribs and gut with punches...

WHUMP!

"David was my BEST FRIEND!!!"

WHUMP!

"And YOU Killed him!"

WHUMP!

"He died because of YOUR bullshit!"

THUMP!

"MY BEST FRIEND!"

"Somebody grab him!"

Sarah and Lindsay managed to pull Anthony away from Hixon... who promptly collapsed.

"BEST FRIEND!"  Anthony screamed.   He managed to tag Hixon in the ribs with one kick before the women pulled him out of range.  "That thing crawled inside of him and ATE HIM ALIVE!  And NOW its got Dr. Jeffries!"

"Huh?"

"What?

"Show 'em your arm, doc,"  said Anthony.

"My arm is fine-"

"Your ARM is FUCKED!    And SO Are we!   ALL because of HIM!"

"What's happening here has nothing to do with Dr. Hixon,"  said Sarah.

"But if it weren't for him, it wouldn't be happening to US!"    said Lindsay.

"And David would still be alive,"  Anthony added.

"What IS happening here,"  said Dr. Jeffries.  He grabbed Sarah's shoulder with his right hand.   His left arm hung limp at his side.  "What was that thing?"

"You're the man of science, doctor,"  Sarah replied.  "Shouldn't you be going there for your answers?"

"DAMMIT, woman!  This is no time for sarcasm!   I want answers!!  That thing has taken my son-"

"Your son is safe,"  said Sarah.  "Safer than we are... but that isn't saying much."

"Where is he!"

"And how do we get the fuck OUT Of here!"   said Anthony.

"The spirits took him to protect him.   To keep him safe from what WE were about to do."

"What DID we do?"  said Lindsay.

"...ouch..."  Dr.   Hixon moaned.   He uncurled just enough to spit two dislodged teeth across the floor.   "...I'm okay... don't everybody try to help me at once-"

"MutherFUCKER!"   Anthony kicked him in the stomach.   "HERE'S your fucking help!"

"UNNKG!"

"STOPIT!"  Sarah ordered.    She shoved Anthony away from Hixon.   "You're not HELPING this situation!  You're only making it WORSE!"

"It can't get any worse!"

"Ohhhhhh, yes it can,"  Sarah replied.  "It can and it will.   Soon."

"Will somebody PLEASE tell me what the hell is happening!?!"   Lindsay screamed.

"Hell IS happening,"  said Sarah.  "This place isn't a haunted house.  It's a sanctuary.   Or a purgatory, depending on how you look at it.    All the spirits here are victims.   They were all murdered."

"By that thing we saw?"  said Lindsay.

"No-"  Sarah began.

"-By Elias Kitchens,"  Hixon wheezed.    The doctor had gotten to his feet and was leaning against the wall for support.  His face was bruised and bloody.   A steady stream of bloody drool ran from his rapidly swelling lips.  "A church pastor.  He was really popular here in the late 1800's.  But then he went insane and m-murdered seven people.   He slaughtered them all in one day... one after the other.   A drunk.   A prostitute and her daughter... who was believed to be his own granddaughter.  Some thieves and revelers.   A schoolteacher who was caught teaching witchcraft to her students.   People that he thought were contributing to the moral decay of this town.   He hunted them down and tortured them to death.   For some reason, their spirits all ended up here.   I don't know why-"

"They were BROUGHT here,"  said Sarah.  "For protection.   Kitchens wasn't satisfied with just killing them; he wanted to personally condemn them to hell.   Lacking the power to do that, he brought hell to THEM instead.   He summoned... something... to torture their souls right here on earth."

"But wouldn't he have to have been a witch HIMSELF to do that?"  said Lindsay.

"He was.   A powerful one, from a long LINE of powerful witches.   They claimed to derive their power from God, but whatever the source, he was strong enough to tear a hole into hell and summon the Redeemer."

"Ohhhh... so you're on a first-name basis with it, now?"

"But he wasn't fast enough,"   Sarah continued.   "A rival family of witches... the Coles... had already gathered the murdered spirits into this house.  They placed a spell around it to keep the Redeemer out, but the demon was too powerful.  It kept getting in.   The spirits needed a protector... someone to fight the Redeemer when it broke through the barriers..."

"The gunman,"  said Lindsay.

"Oh, shit,"   Anthony gasped.

"NOW do you understand what we've done?    That spirit was here to PROTECT them-"

"So WHY did it shoot me in the balls!"

"Why not?"  Lindsay smirked.

"It attacked you for the same reason it stole the generator, and the same reason it fights the Redeemer when it comes:    You were disturbing the spirits in this house-"

"DISTURBED!?  SHE jumped on top of ME, okay!!   I didn't ASK!"

"My God, we've destroyed everything,"  said Dr. Hixon.  "We've condemned them all to hell-"

"Them!?  FUCK them!  What about US!?!  That thing is after the ghosts, right... so why won't it let us leave!?"

"It wants us, too."

"What the fuck FOR!?!"

"I don't know!   At first I thought it was because we disturbed it with the Sampler.   Then I thought it was just David that it wanted... but no.  No, it wants ALL SEVEN... of.... my God."

"What?"

Sarah pointed to Anthony.

"Lust,"  she said.

"huh?"

"Gluttony,"  she continued, pointing to herself.    "Dr. Hixon:  Envy.   Dr. Jeffries:  Pride.    David was wrath.   Lindsay:  Greed."

"Whoa, WHO are YOU calling greedy!"

"And Kyle-"

"Sloth.  There are seven of us-"

"A fucking all-you-can-eat buffet of sin!"  said Anthony.  "Jesus fucking CHRIST ON A STICK!!"
 
"That's why the ghosts took Kyle," said Sarah.  "To THEM, he's still a child that needs to be protected."

"Exactly!"   Anthony blurted.  "If they can protect HIM, then they can protect US!   That witch-bitch kicked its ass!  We're SAFE as long as she's around, right?"

"The Redeemer was already weak from what it did with David.   And just driving it away that once took everything she had.  He wounded her; now I can't even sense her in the house any more.    She's gone.   I think we've seen all the help we're gonna get."

"So now what?"  said Lindsay.

"We RUN LIKE HELL!"  said Anthony.  "We hit that door, and we don't stop running until we hit Alaska!"

"It won't let us leave-"

"You just said it was weak!"

"In here, we at least have SOME protection from the spells the Coles put in place.   The Redeemer has to gather its strength before it can penetrate them again... but the SECOND we step outside we are completely at its mercy."

"We'll be entering its territory," said Dr. Jeffries.   "It lives in that garden.  In the pool."

"Pool?"  said Anthony.

"Yes..."  said Dr. Hixon.  "It lives out there in the remains of an old fountain."

"It's like a... a lake of filth.  That's where its resting... right now..."

Anthony looked at Jeffries, then at Hixon.

"You guys thinking what I'm thinking?"  he said.

"What?"  said Lindsay. "You have an idea to get us out of here?"

"We know where its sleeping,"  said Anthony.   "Its a big lake or a hole or something, right?   So what if we go out there... POUR GASOLINE on that mutherfucker and LIGHT IT THE FUCK UP!!"

"Will that work?"  said Dr. Jeffries.   "There's gasoline in the cars outside-"

"OUTSIDE!"  Sarah spat.   "But we can't GO outside!   Even if you COULD kill it with fire, you'd never get the chance-"

"Not if its sleeping.  Not if its resting, like you said.   We could sneak up on it-"

"That's SUICIDE!"

"Well what do YOU suggest?   Sitting here and waiting for that thing to come and devour us?  I don't think so!"

"We wait for dawn-"

"Why?   This thing doesn't come out in the sun?"

"It prefers the night.  I think it's less powerful during the day."

"Which means,"  said Dr. Jeffries.  "That it will attack us as many times as possible between now and then."

"All the more reason to TORCH this mutherfucker while its napping!"

"What about the Sampler?"  said Lindsay.

All eyes slowly turned toward her... and then to the machine.

"I mean... that's what this thing is FOR, right?"  Lindsay continued.   "Right?

"The Redeemer is much, much too powerful-"

"So's the Sampler,"  said Anthony.  "David... I mean, the Redeemer... screwed with it.   Made it stronger.  If he didn't fuck it up TOO bad, we might still be able to use it as a weapon.  Maybe."

"I don't think this thing is stupid enough to leave us with a weapon that can be used against it,"  said Hixon.

"Maybe not,"  Anthony replied.  "But WE'RE not stupid, either.   I think it fine-tuned this thing to kill the protector.   All we gotta do is fix whatever is broken... and RE-tune this fucker for the Redeemer."   Anthony removed the machine's cover-plate and studied the nest of wires and boards behind it.   The wires leading to and from the power supply were burnt.

"I can fix this.  Then we'll all be snacking on country-fried Redeemer on our way back home!   Theoretically."

"Theoretically?"

"Uhhh... well... if none of the unique components were scorched, I can get it working again.  And even if they were, I can rig spares.    As for tuning it... I have nothing to go by.  If the computers had been taking data during the attack, I'd have everything I need.  But they weren't.  All I can do is... guess..."

"Suddenly this doesn't sound like a very good plan," said Hixon.

"Sounds a hell of a lot better than dragging us out here in the FIRST place, doctor!"

"You all agreed to come out here-"

"You've already killed one person... and now, while the rest of us are trying to figure a way OUT of this, YOU'RE standing there talking shit!    And don't THINK I'm not gonna finish that ass-whuppin' I owe you when we get out of here!"

"And don't think I'm not going to press charges-"

"I'm gonna press my FOOT up your ass if you keep talking, doc!"

"The computer can extrapolate the data that we DO have,"  Lindsay steered the conversation back to a more constructive avenue.   She turned on the powerful SGI workstation and sat down in front of the monitor.   "Give us a starting point.   At least we'll be in the ballpark when that thing comes back."

"Good,"  said Jeffries.    He turned to Sarah.  "In the meantime... would you use your so-called psychic abilities to GET ME MY SON BACK!"

---

He wasn't alone.

He couldn't see anything, but he could feel them.   Icy fingers... cold and ephemeral... dragging across his body, penetrating his clothing as if he weren't wearing any.   The ghostly talons neither tickled nor scratched... they just held him there.   At first they'd been steady and firm, but then they became agitated.  Something had upset them, and Kyle prayed that it wasn't something they would take out on him.

Part of him wished he knew what was going on...  but it was only a small part.   The rest was content to huddle in the darkness and wait...

But then the darkness changed.  The solid, impassible blackness had become a swirling mass of smoke and ash... all around him... everywhere.   There were brief flashes of color and heat that almost burned him.    In between these flashes he could see...

Floor?

Wall?

He was still in the house!

He opened his mouth, but something cold clamped down over his lips and stifled his cry.

"MMMPH!"

The entire world shuddered.

Then it screamed, and the darkness burst like a soap bubble.   The empty room snapped into focus as somewhere... something cried out in tortured pain.   The hand over his mouth vanished, and Kyle gasped.   His throat opened and he sucked the cold, dry air into his lungs in one, tremendous gulp.    Lingering remnants of soot choked him.   He coughed... doubling over in pain and breathlessness as invisible shapes swirled around him.     He knelt on the floor in an upstairs bedroom.   With both arms wrapped around his heaving chest, he leaned over until his forehead almost touched the floorboard.

He managed another breath... then another.

Something touched him.

Something cold... but light and tentative.

Kyle closed his eyes and continued breathing.

The tiny hand gripped his shoulder.

Kyle looked.

"Don't be scared,"  the little girl said.

Kyle jerked away from her, then fell over onto his back.  He looked up at the girl standing in front of the window.   Moonlight from outside shined through her translucent form.

"Don't be scared,"  she repeated.   She walked towards Kyle, but he dragged himself across the floor to get away from her.

He blinked, and suddenly she was behind him.

"AAA!"

He got to his feet and backed away.

"Get away from me!"

"They're really mad,"  she said.  "But they aren't mad at you!   They know you didn't do anything!   Just the others!   They won't hurt you... she told them not to!"

That tiny, curious part of Kyle almost asked the ghost what she was talking about.   Almost.

Instead, Kyle ran past her to the door.  He grabbed the latch, but it wouldn't turn.   He yanked on the door... it wouldn't open.

"DAAAD!   DAD HELP MEEE!"  he screamed.

"They can't hear you,"  said the girl.

Kyle turned to face the spirit.

"OPEN THE DOOR!"

"I can't,"  she said, frowning.  Then she smiled.  "They won't let me.  But we can be friends!  My name is-"

"Fuck you!"

Kyle ran THROUGH the spirit to the window.

"OPEN, DAMMIT!"  he screamed.   The window wouldn't open.   He pulled with all his strength...

"DAAAD!   DAD HELP MEEE!"

"huh?"

The second scream wasn't Kyle.

"DAAAAAD!"  the voice yelled.  "DAD, I'm OUT HERE!"

It was coming from courtyard.

Kyle peered through the window, but there was nothing below but the abandoned cars... and the garden.

...and something invisible that was imitating Kyle's voice.

"DAAAADD!"

"Oh, my God..."  Kyle gasped.  "It's a trap..."

---

"KYLE!"

Dr.  Jeffries ran down the hall, but Sarah stopped him before he reached the door.

"You can't go out there!"

"My SON is out there!"    Jeffries spun to confront Sarah.  "YOU said they were keeping him safe!  But they've sent him out there with that THING!"

"No, something's wrong,"  Sarah warned.

"Damned RIGHT, something is wrong!  My son is out there and I'm in here talking to YOU!"

"I'll come with you,"  said Dr. Hixon.   He brought two flashlights from the living room and handed one to Dr. Jeffries.

"Anthony, Lindsay,  get the Sampler working," Jeffries ordered.   "If we don't come back... best of luck to you."

Dr. Jeffries opened the door.

Everything was calm and dark outside... but there was no sign of Kyle.

"Where is he?"  said Hixon.

"DAAAAAAAD!"

"The roof!"

"Don't go out there,"  said Sarah.

Completely ignoring her, Dr. Jeffries rushed out into the courtyard and shined his light toward the roof.

"KYLE!"  he shouted.

Kyle was hanging from upstairs window... bloody fingertips just barely gripping the frame.   Shards of broken glass tore into his hands as he tried to find a way down.    But there was none.  The thing ledge below the window has broken loose... there was nothing left to hold the boy's weight.

"HELLLP!"  Kyle shouted.   "DAD, HELP ME!"

"Kyle!  I'm here!   Hold on!"

"We have to get up there and pull him back in,"  said Hixon, who'd joined Jeffries in the courtyard.  He turned back toward the door, but suddenly Sarah Bishop lurched out into the yard... arms pin-wheeling.... and collided with Hixon.  They both hit the ground just as the door closed with a loud-

BAM!!!!

"JESUS CHRIST, woman... why are you always FALLING ON ME!!"  Hixon grunted as he extricated himself from Sarah.

"They pushed me..."  said Sarah.   "They pushed me out here and-"

"THE DOOR'S LOCKED!!!"   Hixon interrupted.   He grasped the door-latch with both hands and pulled with all his strength, but it wouldn't budge.

"DAAAAADDDD!"   Kyle screamed.

"We're COMING, Kyle!"   Dr. Jeffries ran to the nearest window and pounded on it with his fist.   It was like hitting brick.   Meanwhile, Dr. Hixon was kicking the front door-

"ANTHONY!   LINDSAY!   LET US IN!"

Sarah Bishop stood and looked out at the darkness beyond the garden.

She felt something look back at her.

---

"Did you hear something?"   said Lindsay.

"What?"   Anthony pulled his head out of the Sampler's innards and listened.   All he heard was the sputtering of the generator.  "I don't hear anything."

"I thought I heard...."  Lindsay got up  from the computer and walked down the hall to the front door.   Halfway there, a sharp chill assaulted her.   A wall of darkness closed around her like a fist.

"Hey!"

"Everything's fine,"  Sarah's voice called from beyond the massive shadow.  "So far-"

"Get back to that data!"  Dr.  Jeffries ordered.

Lindsay backed out of the darkness, then turned to Anthony.

"Something strange is going on-"

"What, you're just NOW noticing that?"

"No, look-"

Anthony shined his flashlight down the hallway.   The darkness was gone.  Sarah Bishop stood in the doorway, looking calmly out at Dr. Jeffries and Dr. Hixon in the courtyard.

"What?"  said Anthony.

"A second ago, I thought-"

"It's a fucking HAUNTED HOUSE, Lindsay!   You're SUPPOSED to hear strange shit!"  Anthony shouted.   He went back to work, replacing burnt out cables in the Sampler's power supply.

Lindsay glanced out at the courtyard a final time, then went back to the computer.

---

"DAD!"  Kyle shouted.   His voice echoed awkwardly in the empty room... as did the solid thuds of his fists as he pounded on the bedroom window.  But the glass wouldn't break.   It wouldn't even crack.

Down in the courtyard, his father, Dr. Hixon, and Ms. Bishop were staring up at the window... but it was obvious that whatever they saw, it wasn't him.   They were shouting at something just beneath the window, and no matter how loud Kyle yelled, he couldn't get their attention.

It was the ghosts.   They were doing something to the sounds.   They'd lured the doctors and Ms. Bishop out into the yard, and now it looked like they'd been locked out of the house.  Hixon was kicking the door, and Kyle's father was pounding on a downstairs window while still casting worried glanced up at whatever the ghosts were showing him.

"Why are you doing this!"   Kyle demanded of the spirit sharing the room with him.

"...they're mad..."  the little girl replied.  "...they're reeeeally mad...."

"Then let us go!  If you want us gone, just LET US GO!"

Something made Kyle turn back to the window.   He looked down... not at the courtyard, but at what lay beyond it.   The garden.   The hideous maze of shrubs was alive with movement.

Something was moving through the bushes, coming toward the house... Toward the courtyard.

Something big.

"What is that!"

The little girl lowered her eyes and turned away.

"ANSWER ME!  WHAT IS THAT THING OUT THERE WITH MY DAD!"

The girl ran to a corner, where Kyle expected her to run through the wall and vanish.  But she didn't.   She knelt down with her face to the wall, and began rocking nervously back and forth... trembling in fear.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING!!"  Kyle demanded.

"...it's coming..."  the girl murmured.  "it's coming...it's coming...it's coming..."

---

"Dr. Hixon, we have to get out of here..."  said Sarah.

"I'm TRYING!"   Hixon yelled.  He was throwing himself against the door, trying to knock it down.   It wasn't working.

"AAAAAAH!!"  one of Kyle's hands slipped from the window frame.  "Dad, I can't hang on!"

"KYLE!"

Dr. Jeffries looked up at his son, then down at the ground.

It was only two floors.  The boy would survive the fall if he landed right.   IF.

"Okay, son... LISTEN to me!    When I say 'now,'  I want you to let go!  You'll fall... but I'll catch you!"

"DR. HIXON!"  Sarah warned.   Her eyes were fixed on the shrubs that marked the boundary of the courtyard.    They were moving.    From not too far away came the sound of rustling leaves and snapping branches...

...and the faint rumble of something huge gathering its breath...

"UNNNGH!"   Dr. Hixon bounced off of the front door and landed on his back in the dirt.  "DAMMIT!"  He got up... then turned to see what Sarah was looking at.

"Oh...shit..."

"DAD, I'M SCARED!"

Dr. Jeffries held out his arms so he could catch Kyle... but his left arm was numb and completely useless.   It wouldn't move.   Dr. Jeffries began to untie the belt that was keeping the Redeemer's poison from spreading.   The instant he loosened it-

"AAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"    The pain knocked the doctor to his knees.   He crouched on the ground, howling in abject agony as fire seared through his veins.   "AAAAAAAAGOD!  IT HURRRRRRRRTS!!!!!!!"

"JEFFRIES!"

Dr. Hixon drew the belt tight around Jeffries' arm once more.

"You have to c-catch him,"  Jeffries hissed.

"What?"

"We have to get out of here NOW!"  said Sarah.

"Then LEAVE!"  said Jeffries.  "GO!  I'm NOT leaving my SON out here with that thing!"

"I've GOT you!"  Hixon shouted up at Kyle.    He stood under the boy and extended his arms.   "JUMP!  I'll CATCH YOU!"

"I'm SCARED!"  Kyle shouted back.

Hixon looked back at the bushes.  The cobblestones began to vibrate beneath his feet.

And then came the sound:

....rrrrrr-

"JUMP, BOY!"   Dr.  Jeffries yelled.

-rrrrRRRRRRRRRRR-

"DAD, HELP ME!"

"HIXON WILL CATCH YOU!  JUMP!"

-RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-

"TOO LATE!"   Sarah screamed.   "It's HERE!"

-RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Something huge and unimaginable tore free of the garden and sliced toward the doctors.

Moving faster than she'd ever thought possible, Sarah Bishop threw herself into the Redeemer's path-

"JUMP, KYLE!"   she screamed-

"SARAH, DON'T-"   Dr. Jeffries began

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!-"  Kyle let go of the window and dropped like a stone.

The Redeemer surged toward Sarah-

-but at the last instant, it veered to the right-

KRA-WHAM!

Its hideous, twisted body struck the U-Haul van.  The impact folded the van in half... the ruined truck swallowed the Redeemer within its crumpled embrace-

"-AAAAAAAAA"  Kyle screamed on the way down.    Hixon braced himself, but when the boy reached his arm-

SPLASH!

'Kyle' ruptured like a water-balloon, spraying Dr. Hixon with slimy pus and long, thick strands of mucous.

"KYLE!"

"What the-"

"What happened?"

"THERE!"   Sarah pointed up at the window that 'Kyle' had been hanging from.    There... clearly visible in the glass... was Kyle's terrified face.   He was shouting down at them, and pointing...

...at the van.

k-k-krr-krrrreeeEEEEAAAAK

Cracks began propagating along the van's surface.   Tiny at first, the fissures merged and multiplied into a vein-like network of dark, jagged chasms... chasms that spread into the ground as if the cobblestones and the van were one continuous surface.

The van swelled and surged like giant lung.   The cracks paused... and then... began to converge on Dr. Hixon.

"RUNNNNN!!!!!"   Kyle shouted.

They ran.   Pain was slowing Dr. Jeffries down, and Sarah's own weight made running an almost comical impossibility... but they ran anyway.

"HELLLLLPPPPP!"   Dr. Hixon screamed.    He, Dr. Jeffries, and Ms. Bishop raced past the front door without stopping.   The reached the corner of the house and turned to run down its length.

Two seconds behind them, the fissures reached the same corner and made a crisp 90-degree turn to follow the fleeing prey.

"HEELLLP!"

Dr. Hixon paused at the first window he came to.   He pounded on the glass.  "LET US IN!!!  LET US IN!"

The only response he got was the crackling of the cobblestone walkway behind him.    Hixon abandoned the window and kept running.

"WE CAN'T GET IN!"   He shouted as he caught up with the others.    "It's going to GET US!"

"We can't OUT-RUN it!"

"JUST GET TO THE BACK DOOR!   IT MIGHT BE UNLOCKED!"

"WHAT IF IT ISN'T!!?!"

"JUST PRAY THAT IT IS!"

---

"Okay, THAT I heard!"  said Anthony.

"Sounded like screaming,"  Lindsay replied.

"Sounded like that THING was coming back!"

"Dr. JEFFRIES!"   Lindsay rushed to the front door, only to find it closed and locked.  "The door is stuck!"

"They're not out there,"  said Anthony.  "I just heard someone banging on the kitchen window..."   Anthony ran to the window, arriving just in time to see Dr. Hixon running off...   "They're going around back!   I think something's after them!  GET THE DOOR!"

Lindsay tried to open the back door.   The latch turned.    The door opened...

...but an invisible force slammed it shut again, then shoved Lindsay violently to one side.

"AAAAA!!!   It won't let me open the door!"

"HELLLLPPPP!!!!"    Dr.   Hixon's voice came from the rear of the house.

"They're almost there!  GET THAT DAMN DOOR OPEN!"

"I can't!"    Every time Lindsay tried to open the door, something either knocked her hand away or it pressed against the door so she couldn't budge it.   "It's the ghosts!"

"HELLLP!"

"Fuck this-"

Anthony ran past Lindsay, returning to the living room.

"What are you DOING!?"

"They don't call me a fucking genius for nothing..."  Anthony muttered as he grabbed the wires from the power supply.   He'd already managed to replace or re-route most of them, but there still a few more to go.   His fingers danced frantically among the clot of half-melted wires.

WHAM!

Something huge hit the back door, forcing a frightened yelp from Lindsay's throat.

It was Sarah.

"LET US IN!"   Sarah pummeled the door with her fists.   Lindsay saw the woman's terrified face through the window.    Again, she tried to let them in... but this time, not only did something knock her hand away, but it SLAPPED her as well.

"AAA!"

"LINDSAY!  ANTHONY!"   Dr. Hixon's voice joined the panicked screams from outside.  "OPEN THE DOOR!"

"I CAN'T!  ANTHONY!!!"

"...almost got it!"   Anthony replied from the living room.

"OH MY GOD!  It's COMING!"

Dr. Jeffries, Dr. Hixon, and Ms. Bishop all turned to look at something that Lindsay couldn't see.   The floor began to tremble.

Dr. Jeffries started punching at the window with his fist.  His knuckles left smears of blood on the undamaged glass.   Ms. Bishop turned as white as sheet... her body stiffened as the fear hit her.    Dr. Hixon screamed.

The kitchen shook as something tremendous approached-

"YEAH!!"  came Anthony's triumphant shout.   He slammed the Sampler's cover shut.  Then he cranked the generator up to full-output and yanked the power handle down.

The generator coughed... then rumbled deeply as the Sampler sucked the power from its gasoline-powered heart.   All over the house, the spirits of the dead felt the Sampler's touch.   The touch became a scratch... the scratch became a burn... and the burn became a white-hot hook that pierced their substance and dragged them screaming out of the ether...

---

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

Kyle was still begging the ghost to let him go when the little girl suddenly began screaming uncontrollably.    Kyle quickly backed away from her as her scream of fear and pain became a warbling siren.   Her transparent body shimmered and almost solid... then it started to distort like an image in a fun-house mirror.     The distortions became more severe, until the ghost was barely recognizable-

"MOMMIEEE HELLLPPP...!"

"WHAT'S HAPPENING!"

"HELLLP MEEEE!"

The twisting, flailing splash of color ran across the room toward Kyle.   But when it reached the center of the empty room... it stopped.   The ghost gave a child-like yelp of surprise as something began to pull her through the floor and into the room below.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeee..."

"HEY!"

"eee..."

"HOLD ON!"

Kyle leapt.   He caught hold of what MIGHT have been an arm... but he wasn't sure.   Whatever it was, he held on tight.

"I GOT YOU!"

He tried to pull the... thing... back up into the room, but the force opposing him was too strong.  He could barely maintain his grasp as more of the girl sank into the floor.

"HELLLP!!!"  He shouted.

Behind him, the bedroom door opened.

He stared at the door, and the hallway beyond.   Freedom.   Whatever was happening was keeping the ghosts from holding him prisoner.

He could leave.

Any time he wanted.

The spirit struggled in his arms, trying to hold onto him.   But she couldn't.   The girl was slowly slipping from his arms.

All he had to do was let go.

Kyle looked back to the door.

"HELLLLPPPP!!!!!!"  he shouted.  "SOMEBODY HELP US!"
 

---

At the back door, a multicolored haze appeared in front of Lindsay.    The haze became a short, unfamiliar man who was standing in front of the door...  holding it closed with one hand.

He scowled at Lindsay.

Lindsay took a step back... and jammed her knee upward in to its groin.

The spirit squealed and stumbled away.   Lindsay snatched the door open.    Sarah and Dr. Jeffries fell in almost on top of one another.    Dr. Hixon was right behind them...

...but the Redeemer was quicker.

With all the sound and fury of a speeding train, the demon surged past the door and snatched Dr. Hixon into its clutches.  Dark, crackling tentacles wrapped around the doctor's leaping body and yanked him back out into the night.     The doctor screamed as the thing engulfed him.

"DR. HIXONNNNNNN!!"   Lindsay squealed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIiii...."

The doctor and the thing that swallowed him were both gone.   But then-

"...iiiiIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAA!!!"

The Redeemer reappeared in front of the still-open door.   It hung there... floating in mid air, its ebony tentacles moving through incomprehensible dimensions as they caressed the doorway.

And with the Redeemer, came Dr. Hixon.

Caught in the thing's impossible arms, the doctor writhed and flailed in torment.   The Redeemer's slightest touch was agony, and Hixon was held tight in its embrace.   The substance of his own body stretched and twisted in grotesque ways as the Redeemer slowly... very slowly... absorbed him into itself.    Dr. Hixon reached out for escape... but his flesh cracked and fell apart like shattered glass.   The doctor's eyes were filled with pain and horror as they melted into nothing.   Soon, the only thing that remained was a mouth...

...a mouth that screamed and screamed and continued to scream long after there were no lungs from which it could draw breath.  Even without a body, the mouth howled its agony to the world because there was no end to its torment.  There would be no end.

Never.

Ever.

"MAKE IT STOP!!"   Lindsay cried.   "MAKE IT STOP!!"

"LINDSAY!   THE COMPUTERS!"   Dr. Jeffries pointed to Lindsay's abandoned workstation.   The computer sat ready... waiting to process data from the now-operational Sampler.   "ANTHONY!"

Anthony rotated the Sampler so that it pointed into the kitchen... and out the back door.   Lindsay sprinted to her chair and activated the data-retrieval program.

"I'm getting something!"  Lindsay announced.  "GOD!  This thing is off the scale!"

"FORGET the scale!"   Anthony replied.  "We don't need MAGNITUDE; we need FREQUENCY!"

Suddenly, the Redeemer surged violently toward the open door-

"LOOK OUT!"

Dr. Jeffries kicked the door closed-

WHAM!

The demon's impact knocked him to the floor.   The walls moaned as they rebuffed the demon... but the Redeemer would not be turned away.   Dark, sinister cracks began to radiate outward from the door... slowly insinuating themselves into the very fabric of the house.

-k-kr-krak-kk-

Sarah and Dr. Jeffries backed away....

"LINDSAY!  NOW would be a good time-"

"I'M TRYING!"

"I thought you said that computer was FAST!"   said Anthony.

-k-kr-krak-kk-

The door was a spider's web of dark fissures.    The wood began to pulsate as if it were a living thing... swelling inward as the Redeemer tried to enter.

"It's too strong!"  said Sarah.   "The house can't keep it out!"

"DO something!"  Dr. Jeffries ordered.

"Do WHAT!?"

"Do what you did out front!  You made it turn away from you... do it again!  Send it back where it came from!"

"I don't KNOW what I did!"

Suddenly, an oozing darkness began to gush through the cracks and coalesce in the kitchen.  The Redeemer flowed into the room like a dark tide.   It assembled itself in front of the back door... then, without hesitation, it flung itself at Lindsay-

"LIINNNDSAAY!"

"...eeeEEEEEE!"

Something small and loud fell from the ceiling near the Sampler.  The shape hit the floor, where it resolved into a familiar shape.   The frightened little girl saw the Redeemer... and she screamed.

It was the wrong thing to do.

At the sound of the girl's voice, the Redeemer's multi-shaped head turned toward her.   It swerved away from Lindsay and shot across the room.   The girl tried to run, but the same energy field  that had dragged her through the ceiling now held her fixed in place.

Everything in the house screamed as the Redeemer jagged tentacles pierced her body and, in one impossibly quick motion, yanked her into its mouth.

The gaping, tooth-filled mouth slammed shut, but the little girl's screams didn't die... they got louder.  They increased a thousand-fold as the young soul met her torment inside the beast.

"NOOOOOO!!!!!!!"  Sarah cried.    The house joined her in a wail of fear and anger so loud that no one heard Kyle running down the stairs.    He burst into the room... and saw the Redeemer for the first time:

"WHAT-THE-FUCK?!!?!!"

The Redeemer's head swiveled toward him.   Its eyes... some of them... gleamed.

"NOO!"   Dr. Jeffries shouted.   He and the Redeemer both moved as one.

The Redeemer jetted across the room like a shark.   The doctor got a running start and dove UNDER the demon... narrowly avoiding its flailing tentacles.   He landed at Kyle's feet, but quickly stood to face the Redeemer as it came.

The Redeemer's monstrous bulk halted instantly.  It hung there... floating in mid-air... its mouth mere inches away from Dr. Jeffries.    Half of its eyes fixed on the doctor... the other half on Kyle, who stood trembling behind his father.

"...run, Kyle..."  Dr. Jeffries whispered.  "...I'll slow it down...run!"

But it wasn't Kyle that ran.

The Redeemer's jaws parted, and the beast bellowed a screech of rage so intense that it rattled the hinges on the front gate.   Dr. Jeffries' eyes were firmly closed, but Kyle couldn't look away from the thing.  He looked through its mouth and into the very belly of the thing.   He saw the horror that lay there... waiting...

As Kyle's unconscious body hit the floor,  The Redeemer twisted around and flew from the room, diving through the rear wall.   Its surreal body merged briefly with the wood... the house shook as it shrugged the demon away, expelling it into the darkness outside.

"Kyle..."

Dr. Jeffries shook his son.   The boy's eyes opened, but they were blank and empty.

"...I couldn't hold her..." he said in a faint, distant voice.  "...I couldn't hold her..."

"Son-"

"...I saw her... inside it..."

"Kyle?"

"...and Dr. Hixon..."

"Kyle!  Snap out of it, boy!"

"...It was... it was..."

"KYLE!"

Dr. Jeffries slapped his son firmly across the face.

It didn't work.   The boy just started over:

"...I couldn't hold her..."

"Hey, guyyyys..."   Anthony called.   "We still got company in here..."

They were all over the room.   The spirits of the house had gathered in the living room, where they stood motionless... glaring angrily at the living.    Their ash-grey bodies flickered in the Sampler's field.

"I think they're pissed,"   said Anthony.

"They're more frightened than anything,"  said Sarah.  "But-"    Sarah looked at Kyle, then at Dr. Jeffries... then at Anthony.

"What?"  said Anthony.

"They want something.   From us.  I can't tell what, but I definitely sense-"

"Ignore them,"  said Jeffries.  "Lindsay did you get what we needed?"

"Uhhh..."  Lindsay crawled out from under the table where she'd been hiding.  She checked the computer.   "Uhhh... y-yeah.  I got the harmonics-"

"Well GIVE 'EM HERE!"   said Anthony.  "Before that thing comes back!"

Lindsay sat down and began to read the numbers off the screen:

"X2: One-Two-Four Gigahertz.   Y2:  Seven-Nine-Eight Gigahertz.   Z2: Five-"

KKKRAAASH!

The window closest to the computer shattered as the Redeemer crashed through it.   Dark tentacles thrust into the room and snared the computer workstation... and Lindsay.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"   she screamed as the tentacles burned into her flesh.   In one tremendous yank, she and the computer were both snatched out through the window... and right into the Redeemer's waiting mouth:

"LINDSAY!  NO!"

"JESUS!!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAFIVE-FIVE-NINE!   FIVE-FIVE-NIIIIINNNNEEEEE!!!"

The Redeemer's mouth snapped closed, severing the computers power and I/O cables.  Sparks danced briefly across its teeth as Lindsay's screams became an ear-splitting wail of agony.  The Redeemer glared at those still left in the room... then it pulled away from the window and let the darkness claim it.    It was gone.

"Oh... FUCK!"

"Anthony, did you get those frequencies!"

"FUCK!"

"ANTHONY!"

"IT SWALLOWED HER!"

"ANTHONY!"

"What!?"

"The frequencies."

"...yeah..."   Anthony looked down at the Sampler as if he'd never seen it before in his life.  "I...uhhh... It'll take some work to get those freqs out of this thing, but, uhhh.... fuck."

"We've got it, then,"  said Dr. Jeffries.

"...yeah... but, Lindsay-"

"It's too late for her,"  said Dr. Jeffries.  "We have to work on getting OURSELVES out of-AAAK!"  Dr. Jeffries grabbed the side of his neck, but when his hand touched the skin, he screamed and dropped to the floor.

"DOC!"

Anthony unbuttoned the doctor's shirt and pulled it open-

"DAAAMN!"

The burn on Jeffries' arm had spread.   Crispy tendrils had snaked past the belt tied around the doctor's arm, taking the fiery infection up to his shoulder and down onto his chest.   Everything on the left side of the doctor's torso was black.   And now it was spreading up the side of his neck toward his head.

"Doc... Doc this don't look good-"

"I know,"   Dr. Jeffries grunted.   He sat up and caught his breath, but didn't try to stand yet.

"Naw, doc... I mean this looks REALLY bad-"

"I KNOW what it looks like, Anthony... YOU just get that machine working.    I plan on being here MORE than long enough to see that demon sent back to whatever hell it came from!  But that won't happen if you stand there GAWKING."

Anthony looked at Sarah and shook his head.

"Okay, doc."

"Help me up-"

Sarah pulled Dr. Jeffries to his feet.   He swooned unsteadily for a few moments.

"Next time this thing shows up,"  said Anthony.  "We're gonna char-broil its ass like a-"

The generator sputtered... coughed... sputtered again... and then rumbled to a silent and ominous halt.  The lights on the Sampler winked out... all the dials on its control panel fell back to zero.

The ghosts in the room faded away...

Anthony, Sarah, and Dr. Jeffries looked at the generator as if it had just stood up and loudly declared its allegiance to the Redeemer.

"What... happened... to the generator?"  said Sarah.

"It's out of gas,"  Dr. Jeffries replied.   He pointed to the fuel gauge.   It read zero.

"There's fuel in the cars,"  Dr. Jeffries said calmly.  "Someone will have to go and siphon one of the gas tanks."

"Hey, I hate to sound like a coward, but FUCK THAT!!!!!"

"Don't worry, Anthony... YOU have to run the Sampler.  I'll go.  Sarah, you come with me."

"Me?"

"To watch the door.   I trust you can keep your friends from locking us out again."

"Here-"   Anthony tossed Dr. Jeffries an empty gas container and a long rubber tube.  "You stick the tube in the-"

"I have a doctorate in physics, Anthony... I think I can manage siphoning gasoline out of a car."

"Just be careful,"  said Anthony.  "And quick."

"Watch my son."

Kyle was curled up in a ball against the wall behind Anthony.  His eyes were open, but he didn't appear to be seeing or hearing anything around him.   He blinked once... swallowed... and began to drool.

"He ain't going anywhere."

"Make sure that he doesn't.  Sarah?"

Sarah followed Jeffries down the hallway, while Anthony removed the Sampler's cover and began making the adjustments.

---

The truck was in pieces.  Literally.

Fragments of it lay scattered around the courtyard like an explosion in a metal-shop.   There wasn't a single piece larger than a man's chest.

"Good God..."  Dr. Jeffries whispered.

"My car is closest,"  said Sarah.   She pointed to her Mazda.   Of the remaining cars, it sat closest to the door.

"Stay there,"  said Jeffries.   He pointed to the doorway-  "Stay RIGHT there.  If you... 'sense'... anything-"

"I'm sensing all kinds of things, doctor... none of them good."

Dr. Jeffries walked out to the car.   The flap that covered the gas-cap had to be released from the inside.

"Keys?"

Sarah tossed him her keys.   He unlocked the door and pulled the tiny lever beside the driver's seat.  The gas-door popped open.   Dr. Jeffries unscrewed the cap and began siphoning the gasoline into the container into that Anthony had given him.  He looked around nervously as the liquid drained into the thick plastic bottle.

"It happened again,"  said Sarah.   "Inside.  It didn't attack you and Kyle.   It WANTED to... it wanted you both.  But it didn't take you.   Why?"

"Your guess is as good as mine,"  said Jeffries.  He looked around the courtyard.   Nothing moved.

The gas-can was one-third full... but it was a small container.   He needed to fill it up.

Fortunately, the courtyard was still empty.  So far.

"That's the third time,"  Sarah continued.

"Yes, well I don't see... third?"

"Anthony.   When it chased him back into the house... it was coming through the door.  But it stopped.  He stopped it."

"And he's going to stop it again,"  said Dr. Jeffries.   "With the Sampler."

"Do you think your machine is strong enough to destroy it?"

"Destroy it?   I don't know.   But at the very least it can hold it in place while the we get away."

"And then what?"

"Then?   Then we come back here with a bigger generator... a stronger emitter... more equipment... and we dissect this place and everything in it one atom at a time.   When we're done, there won't be enough of this 'Redeemer' left to fill a petri dish."

"No,"  said Sarah.  "No, no, no... THAT'S what got us into this in the first place!  Your science-"

"And that's whats getting us out!  Science!  NOT whatever spiritual voodoo you're trying to put together now."

"I don't think so..."  Sarah gazed at the garden.   Jeffries followed her eyes... but didn't see anything.  "I wish Hixon were here-"

"That charlatan?"

"All he wanted was to be like you.   A success.  He was jealous, but that doesn't make him evil.   NONE of our faults do-"

"What good would he do now?"

"He knew things about this place.   About its history... about the spirits here.   Things that the spirits aren't telling me.  There MUST be some key that we're missing."

"Yes, and its called 'gasoline.'   For the generator.   We're collecting it right now."

"No, there's something else.    They wanted something.   You, me, and Anthony... I can see the connection there, even if I don't understand it yet.     But Kyle... I don't know.   He must have done something when they had him.   He must have-"

"This place has taken quite enough from me and my son.    They'll get nothing else.  And if its Hixon's knowledge you're after, you can go look through it yourself.   Its strewn all over his room upstairs.   And here-"

Dr. Jeffries retrieved a few crumpled sheets of paper from his pocket and tossed them at Sarah.

"What's this?"  Sarah looked through the notes.

"More information that he kept hidden from us.  I can't see how its useful-"

"Laslo Cole," said Sarah.

"Who?"

"It's part of the Cole family history.   Laslo Cole.   Son of Thaddius and Talia Cole.   Left October Falls to seek his fortune out west.   Returned years later... fell in love with..."  Sarah frowned.   She looked at the next page...  "...the schoolteacher.   The one that Kitchens killed.  He disappeared not too long after... wait a minute..."

"What is it?"  said Dr. Jeffries.

"I think I've got it-"

"And so do I."   Dr. Jeffries put the screwed the cap onto the gas container, which was now full.  As he did, something in the car caught his eye.   The driver's side door was still open.   The doctor leaned forward and peered cautiously into the dark interior...

"Ms. Bishop?"  he said slowly...

"What?"

"Am I remembering correctly... that you... DON'T... have a little black dog?"

Sarah nodded as she slowly backed away from the door...

"...Sarah..."  said Dr. Jeffries.   "RUN!"

Dr. Jeffries sprinted away from the car as the Redeemer exploded out through the door.   Black tentacles streaked through the air, impaling the doctor from behind.  Their harpoon-like tips exploded out through his already blackened chest.

"AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"  Dr. Jeffries screamed.   The Redeemer yanked him back into the car, but at the last instant, the doctor managed to fling the container of gasoline toward the house-

-where Sarah caught it.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!"   Jeffries howled in torment as he slid into the Redeemer's gaping maw.    The mouth oozed shut around him... and the doctor's screams only increased.

The small Mazda swelled... cracks appeared all along its surface... then the car exploded, sending tiny fragments of itself all over the courtyard.

Roaring in rage, the Redeemer streamed out of the hail of wreckage, surged across the short distance to the front door, then shot down the hallway after Sarah.    Dark tentacles of pure torment stabbed downward toward Sarah's back.

"ANNNTHONYYYY!!!"

Sarah tripped, hit the floor, and skidded all the way to the end of the hall... where Anthony snatched the gasoline from her grasp.   He turned to the generator and began pouring the fuel in-

"Anthony, I know how to stop it!"   said Sarah as she tried to get up.  "I know what the ghosts want!   You have t-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

The tentacles came down like knives... dozens of them sliced into her back and grabbed hold of her spine... nearly ripping it out of her body.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAa-"

"SARAH!"

Anthony turned to look.   Sarah's considerable flesh was already charring and dissolving as the Redeemer pulled her into its mouth.

"FUCK!"

Anthony hit the 'START' button on the generator.

The machine rumbled... growled... then roared-

The Redeemer gushed into the room... its tentacles stretching outward like a razor-sharp web... seeking not only Anthony and Kyle, but every spirit in the house.    When they touched the floor, walls, and ceiling, the dark appendages became cracks that flowed along the surfaces like liquid shadows.

Kyle whimpered as the Redeemer expanded to its full and horrible size before them.

The house and its ghosts screamed in terrified protest.

"Shoulda let us go when you had the chance!"  Anthony yelled.  He spun the Sampler around and aimed it at the Redeemer.  "Because now... NOW you're gonna get FUCKED UP!!"

Anthony pulled the main power handle.

The Sampler emitted a piercing, electronic whine.  Its invisible field surged forth, striking the Redeemer squarely in the center of its impossible body.  Instantly, thin tendrils of smoke began to rise from its body.   The Redeemer screeched in pain as the energy tore at it like a million hungry insects.    The demon rolled and thrashed in the air... then it paused.    It fixed its eyes on Anthony and gave one massive shake that jolted the entire house.   Its tentacles ripped free of the walls, pulling up floorboards and snatching down entire sections of the ceiling.

Several boards from the ceiling struck the Sampler, knocking it off balance and swinging the Emitter to one side.

"NO!"   Anthony reached for the machine and tried to aim it back at the Redeemer, but he was too slow.   Momentarily free of the Sampler's fury, one of the Redeemer's jagged tentacles arced through the air... went AROUND Anthony... and snagged the thick power cord running from the generator to the Sampler.

It sliced the cord in half... then cut it again, cleanly removing a two-foot section of the cable.  Just as Anthony had it pointed at the demon, the mighty machine died with a disheartening whine.

"SHIT!"

Anthony turned his back to the demon, just as the wiggling tentacle crackled across the floor toward Kyle.   Kyle looked at it... too terrified to move.

"HEY!  LOOK OUT!"

Anthony hopped over the dark tendril, grabbed Kyle and snatched him out of the way.   The appendage made a 90-degree turn and came after them.   More cracks began snaking down the walls toward the corner where they crouched.   The floor was alive with miniature chasms... all leading back to the Redeemer.   The demon floated gleefully in the air before the now-inert Sampler.

It laughed at them... a bellowing roar that shook Anthony to his very soul

All over the house, the spirits of the dead wailed in torment...

Anthony pushed Kyle behind him.   He looked out at the Redeemer... then down at the dozens of tentacles coming for him.  He saw one end of the power cable by his foot.   The other end was just out of reach.   The missing section had rolled to the other side of the room.

The generator was still running.

Anthony knew it wouldn't work.   He knew all the laws, theorems and constants that made it impossible...

...and he knew what would happen to him if he tried.  But he also knew that it was the only thing left to do...

Anthony grabbed one end of the power cord in his right hand, then snagged the other end with his foot.   He dragged it closer... then reached down and picked it up.    The ends were too far apart to bring together, and without the  missing  chunk of cable there was only one way he could complete the circuit and restore power to the Sampler.

"HEY UGLY!"  He screamed at the Redeemer.  "YOUR PASSPORT HAS EXPIRED.... TIME FOR YOU TO GO BACK TO HELL!"

Holding the cable ends tightly, Anthony clamped his sweat-soaked hands down on the bare metal.    The generator growled as the Sampler came back online.   The electric current scorched a sizzling black path from the cable in Anthony's right hand... across his chest... through his heart... down his left arm and into the other end of the severed cord-

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"  Anthony screamed until his bleeding, burning lungs were empty, he could feel his flesh cooking, but still he smiled as the Sampler's characteristic whine reach his ears...

The Redeemer heard it too.  It turned toward the machine and saw... and saw...

"AAARRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

The creature howled like a hurricane as the Sampler's fury slammed into it.   The first incredible wave seared the skin from its body.  Immediately, the underlying flesh began to melt and burn.   Its appendages flailed in the air, leaving puffs of black smoke in their wake as they dissolved.   Pieces of them snapped off and disintegrated as the Sampler drew them in.   The Redeemer tried to pull away, but no matter how hard the beast struggled, the infernal physics of the Sampler held it in place like an immovable fist.  The machine ripped and tore at its substance... biting off burning chunks with teeth forged of pure electromagnetic rage... and tainted with the one thing that the Redeemer could not endure:

Sacrifice.

"-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"

The Redeemer swelled... contracted... twisted and convulsed.   The monster writhed in uncontrollable agony, its flesh churning... literally boiling away in the Sampler's onslaught.   Huge, cancerous knots bubbled to the surface, where they popped like bubbles-

SPLAK!
POP!
TSSSssss...

"-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR-"

Other shapes came now... smaller... tighter...

...a half-dozen arms reached out of the Redeemer's roiling flesh.   They carried something with them... dragging it up from the depths and thrusting it out toward freedom.  The tiny shape unfolded... it stretched out a small hand-

"...TAKE HER!"  Came Sarah Bishop's voice.  "TAKE HERRR!"

A strong hand clamped down on the girl's, and Kyle Jeffries pulled the child free of the Redeemer's flesh.   When the last of her plopped free, the other souls sank back into the churning muck.  Kyle dragged the girl to the furthest corner of the room and shielded her with is body as the Redeemer gave its final roar-

"RRRRRRRRRRRrrrrAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIEEEEEEEEeeeee...."

What remained of its tortured form turned inside out... twice... before coming completely apart.   Sizzling chunks tore free and vanished into nothing while the main mass exploded in a silent splash of gore and cinders.

And soon, even the cinders were gone.

Kyle didn't know how long he crouched there.   He listened to the rumble of the generator for a long time... waiting... for ANYTHING.

Finally, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, kid-"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Kyle shoved away from the wall and scrambled to his feet.... where he found himself face-to-face with Anthony.

"Show's over,"  said Anthony.  "You can go home now."

Kyle looked past Anthony.... and saw the still-burning corpse laying behind the Sampler.   The two ends of the main power cable were still clasped in the corpse's charred fists.

"Yeah,"  said Anthony.  "Sucks.  But it could be worse."

"Is..."

Anthony stepped to one side.  There were other shapes behind him... thin and ephemeral.   Ghosts.  Two of them stood together... a mother and a daughter.   The little girl waved.

"Like I said,"  said Anthony.  "You can go home.   Don't come back."

"My dad...?"

Anthony shook his head.

Kyle nodded.  He hesitated, unsure of what to do.  Finally, he just started walking.   The ghosts vanished as he approached... winking out of existence one at a time, until Kyle was alone again.   He cast a glance at the Sampler as he reached the hallway.   Black smoke rose from the machine's control panel.   The buttons and switches had melted, and tiny tongues of flame licked out from behind the blackened dials.   The machine was a complete loss... not that Kyle cared.

He walked down the hallway... which seemed not nearly as dark and ominous as it had when they'd first arrived.   The front door was open when he reached the end... and it closed gently behind him as he stepped out into the courtyard.

Picking a careful path through the debris, the boy strolled slowly toward the main gate as the sun rose over the garden.

[END]

copyright 2001 by Dark Icon (Marc Washington) Comments and Feedback are Welcome!