Demon Hunters (25 page)

“This is where Jackal grew up. Inside those
walls.”

“This was his home?”

“It was an orphanage. His mother died during
childbirth and his old man never showed up after that to claim him.
The state just stuck him in here.” Gwen finally slipped out of the
car. She walked about carefully and tried to get the lay of the
land. I heard her step on something wooden. We looked down and saw
that she was standing on the sign that had once been posted proudly
at the entrance. It was worn and cracked and there were some signs
of vandalism, but it was still legible.

“Sunnyridge. That sounds pleasant.”

“Well, it was anything but. This place had a
long track record of abuse and cruelty. Of course, none of this
ever came to light until five years after Jackal escaped.”

“You know quite a bit about Jackal.”

“I’ve been fighting with him for a long
time. It was there he got into the occult. It was his way of
escaping his tormentors. He studied all the books he could get his
hands on. By the time he was sixteen, he was tapping into some
seriously dark power. It was all downhill from there.”

I walked over to the main gate. It had been
chained shut but I managed to slip through. Gwen came running
over.

“You don’t mean for us to actually go in
there, do you?”

“He’s not going to come out here to us. Now
come on. Just squeeze through.”

“I’m not going in there. It looks like it
should have been condemned years ago!” I noticed a sign on the
ground and picked it up.

“Good news. It was.”

“What do you need me in there for anyway?
You’ve got the strength.”

“You have a point.”

“Good.”

“You can stay here and keep watch. You have
your phone on you?”

“In the car.”

“If I’m not out in twenty minutes, call
someone.”

“Who?”

“Anyone.” I turned from Gwen and headed
toward the house.

The house was run down dump. The wood was
rotted and dark. All the windows were cracked and broken. The
closer I got, the more I could hear the worn out planks of wood
creak and snap at the slightest breeze. It just looked evil to me.
It sprawled out at me like a predator with gnarled claws. When the
wind blew, it whistled like a banshee. Beckoning me in or warning
me away. I wasn’t sure which.

The front door stood open as if like an
engraved invitation. Jackal wanted me to come to him. I set my foot
upon the first step and it broke under my weight. Bugs scrambled
around madly as I jumped back. I found some solid footing and went
inside.

The interior was even worse than the
exterior. It was like walking through some kind of demented
dollhouse. The wallpaper was worn and cracked. It looked as though
the original floors and lights had been left intact, but were
covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. The doors had been
taken off their hinges and I could feel a chilled wind blow in from
all directions. At times, it sounded like the faint laughter of
small children, at others, it sounded like their screams. It was a
very bad place and very bad things had happened there, and as it
rotted, it seemed to still attract bad things.

Every step I took inspired a chorus of
strange and unnatural noises. I moved into the room to the right.
It was long and wide and I could only assume it once was a parlor
of some kind. There was a line of lit candles running along the
floorboards, casting long shadows along the walls and leading to an
open door at the other end of the room.

“Hello, Jake!” Jackal’s voice came from
nowhere and everywhere at the same time. I heard footsteps behind
me. I turned and three leather clad biker punks burst in. They
dressed the part perfectly. Thick leather boots. Black t-shirts.
One of them even had a spiked collar wrapped around his neck. Their
eyes were glazed over and seemed stiff and awkward. “I met these
fine young men at the local watering hole. I explained to them what
I was planning and after a little coaxing, they were all too eager
to help me arrange this little surprise.”

Suddenly the shortest of the three broke his
stride and pounced at me. I jumped back but he whipped his arms out
wildly. His friends came swarming around on either side of me. They
were on me faster than I thought they would be and they each had my
arms. The runt in front of me smiled and threw his meaty fist at my
chin. His hand felt like a ball of concrete. My mouth was already
filling with blood when he landed another blow. After the fourth, I
started to feel a stray tooth swim around.

Before he could connect again, I jumped back
and smashed his face with the sole of my shoe. I felt his nose
break under the pressure. I seemed to surprise his friends because
their grips loosened and I was able to shake free. The puny guy
crawled to the corner to nurse his wound, but his buddies still
wanted to play.

They began circling around me, sizing me up.
They both came charging at me. I grabbed one by the neck and swung
him around at his friend causing both of them to tumble to the
floor. I caught my breath for only a second when they got back up
and started at me again. The voice in my head began to pound in my
brain louder. Whatever was living in me had just woken up. I began
to feel the power surge through me but as it did, I noticed the
thugs’ eyes. They began to go wild all of a sudden. They came at me
and their strength was surprising. I pushed and punched as best I
could but then I heard someone approaching. I turned my head and
saw the runt had gotten his second wind as well, and was on a
collision course with my spine. Things got dark after that.

When I woke up I was lashed to a large
chair. There was only the light of the candles around the room to
give me an idea of where I was. It looked like a basement of some
kind. I suddenly noticed three people tied up on the floor. I
wasn’t sure if they were dead or not, but suddenly I saw one of
them move and another let out a muffled yelp. It was then I
realized my mouth had been muzzled. I heard a door open and close
and Jackal drifted in from the top of a staircase in the back. He
was wearing a black robe. His face looked different too. There was
something more ferocious in his eyes. Whatever magic he was using,
it was taking its toll on him.

As I focused my eyes more, I could see an
altar on the other side of the room with a body wrapped in a red
blanket lying across it. Morgan, I assumed. Jackal’s eyes found me
and he approached slowly. He lifted my head with his finger under
my chin. His touch burned like acid.

“I’m so glad you could come to my little
party, Jake. It just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Sacrifices Will Be Made

My eyes focused and I could see everything
more clearly. The room was lined with small black candles. In the
middle of the floor there was a large black blanket spread out and
the three victims Jackal had taken were tied up and gagged on top
of it. Their arms were pinned behind their backs and their legs
were tied together. The one on the end was an old lady who had a
head of white hair and I could see tears streaming down her
cheeks.

I looked down at the bonds holding me to the
chair. They were cutting into my skin, making me bleed. I tried to
pull free, but whatever they were made of was stronger than me.
Jackal was standing before me and he was slowly pushing his
claw-like fingers into my chin.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,”
Jackal ripped my gag from my mouth and then paced around the room
like a shark seeking his prey. His robe floated behind him like a
cape of living shadows. He stopped at the small altar. He stood
over the figure wrapped in the red blanket and I noticed the dagger
on the floor next to it. Jackal bent over and picked it up. It
looked like he was getting some kind of charge from it. His head
snapped around and his eyes found me quickly. “Jake Corba. I can’t
tell you how happy I am to have you here.”

“What is all this?”

“A little ritual your friend Demonica clued
me in on. Not intentionally, of course. I had to pry it out of her,
but it was worth it,” He came up to me with the dagger swinging
back and forth like a pendulum. “She told me that there was a way I
could take Morgan’s power and transfer it into my own body. This
dagger of yours not only can bring people back to life, but it also
acts like a conduit of life energies. It can literally transfer one
life force into another body,” My eyes darted over to his captives.
“You’re curious, aren’t you?” He dashed over to his three captives.
“The essential point of this ritual is that it must be done
someplace very close to my heart and requires the blood of four
people who are just as close. Everyone we meet in our lives leaves
an imprint on not only our minds, but also our souls. These three
in fact, are pretty much responsible for the fine, upstanding man
I’ve become.” He knelt next to the old woman on the end and pressed
the blade to her neck. I could hear a stifled squeal escape her
lips.

“This is Evelyn Hoag. My first foster
parent. Once, she was quite a pretty woman with a hard working
husband, Sherman. Sherman liked to drink. A lot. And when he had
enjoyed a few drinks, he got punchy. Too bad for me, I was the
closest thing around for him to punch,” Jackal pushed the tip of
the dagger into Evelyn’s neck and I could see a small red dot of
blood form. It began to trail along the blade’s edge. He traced the
dagger across Evelyn’s neck and left a thin red line of blood
behind it as it cut through her flesh. The red line began to grow
thicker. “She was brave though. She bravely turned her head away
when her darling Sherman would beat me. I was six then. She denied
it to the very end, you know. Even after Sherman died, she refused
any talk of his abuse of alcohol or me.” Jackal then pushed Evelyn
down onto the black blanket. I could see the blood spread under
her. He stepped over her and to the gangly old guy in the
middle.

“Michael Covington. He was the administrator
of the orphanage when I arrived. He was such a caring and loving
figure of authority. Kept a tidy, and cost effective, ship. In
fact, all the years he was here, they never had to pay for a
cleaning crew because he simply made use of the labor force that
was already here. The kids.” Jackal took Michael by the top of his
head and stuck the dagger deep into his chest. He coughed but the
gag in his mouth muffled his gasps. Soon streams of red were
trickling down his chin. Jackal worked the dagger in deeper.
Michael rattled violently and then fell quiet. Jackal stood up and
stepped over to his final guest. A portly man. He was the only one
of the three who was tied with a bungee cord. Jackal kicked his
foot against the guy’s back and forced him down onto his
stomach.

“And this happy little porker, is Herbert
Murkwith,” Jackal dangled the dagger over Herbert’s back. Herbert
seemed to be not only the heaviest, but also the youngest of the
three. His face was red as a tomato as he flailed and screamed
muffled cries for help. “This fat little load was the resident
bully. He was the leader of the pack who tortured me every day I
was here. It was harmless to begin with. A wedgie here, a swirly
there, but soon it got more intense. He’d punch me in my stomach in
the middle of the night sometimes. He would lead group beatings on
an almost daily basis. I thought his torment would end when he was
adopted, but so many had learned from his example and the abuse
continued unchecked. That is when I turned to the books in the
library for shelter. For that I thank you, Herbert.” Jackal then
stabbed the dagger down into Herbert’s thick back. With a heavy
jerk, Jackal pulled the dagger back out. It was covered in blood at
that point. The hilt of it glowed eerily as the blade dripped red.
Jackal then walked over to me. I saw his hand gripping the dagger.
His fingers looked as though they had grown longer. The nails were
gnarled and jagged. He clasped the dagger tightly in his fist. His
eyes looked down upon me with a primal hunger. As if he had been
feeding off of something in the room.

“And now we come to you. My adult tormentor.
The one who has insisted on standing between me and my ultimate
destiny, but no more. This time, Jake, you can’t do anything to
stop me,” Jackal touched the bloody blade to my wrist. He slid it
back and forth against my arm. “There was a time I was jealous of
you, Jake. You were held by a power greater than you had ever known
but now I’ve found my own.” He then he dug the blade into my arm.
He worked it in furiously, soaking it with my essence. Jackal then
spun around and rushed to the altar.

He lifted Morgan’s body up and placed her
down on the floor carefully. He began to slowly unfold the red
blanket and Morgan’s body tumbled out. I had never seen her before.
She didn’t look like I expected. She was actually kind of pretty.
She had blonde hair and soft features. It was weird seeing the face
of the unholy bitch that cursed my entire family right in front of
me.

“What’s going to happen? You’re going to
open some doorway to Hell and take over the world?”

“There are greater powers than evil and
worse things than Hell,” He tilted his head slightly in my
direction. “I’ve learned a lot this time around.”

“Don’t do this.” Jackal took his position
over Morgan’s body and held the blood soaked dagger close to her
pale flesh.

“I shall fuse Morgan’s soul into my own and
then I will be as powerful as you. Perhaps even more powerful.” He
got down on his knees and stabbed the dagger into Morgan’s arm. The
blood on the blade seeped down into Morgan’s body. She began to
convulse and shudder. I saw a black liquid begin to ooze out of the
cut. Jackal pushed the dagger in deeper and soon the floor was
covered with it. It began to seep up onto the walls. Jackal’s three
tormentors had been consumed by the dark liquid and were probably
long gone. Jackal stopped and Morgan’s body calmed. He stood
upright and turned to me. His eyes were black as onyx. He began to
grow before my very eyes.