Rebekka Franck - 03 - Five, Six ... Grab Your Crucifix (8 page)

That was when he lost everything. That was when he lost Anders for good and became just another one in the crowd to him.

Happy thoughts, Hans Christian thought to himself as he thought the smacking of the lips became louder in his head. Get back to the happy thoughts. Thoughts about the good days, before … Hans Christian sighed and opened his eyes. What use was it to try and sleep now? He was an old man now and sleeping had become increasingly difficult over the years.

Hans Christian sat up in the bed. There it was again, the smacking sound. He sighed and got up. He walked to the window and pulled away the curtain. It was still a full moon. How he hated the full moon. Always reminded him of that girl. Hans Christian shivered at the thought. He never liked to think about her. Why was he suddenly dreaming about her? Well it wasn’t that strange after all, Hans Christian thought. Not after what had happened the night before with the Priest. It was a wonder that he had been able to sleep at all after that event. It was a wonder that anyone was able to sleep this night. Hans Christian shivered again. He could still hear those screams in his head and now the smacking of the lips. Why was he tormenting himself so much?

The smacking sound seemed to come closer, he thought and turned around to face the door. Was he imagining things or was there someone out there? Maybe someone was in the kitchen? Hans Christian’s room was next to the kitchen. Maybe one of the youngsters had sneaked in to get a late night snack? The building was after all a place where you could hear everything going on in every room. It wouldn’t be the first time he was awakened by someone grabbing something to eat.

Hans Christian grabbed a cardigan and put it on. Then he walked towards the door, grabbed the handle and opened it. The smacking sound was louder out there. It couldn’t be just in his head.

He loved this place, he thought to himself while walking and thinking about that time when they built it. He and Anders had built it together with love and passion for their mission. Hans Christian sighed deeply as he approached the door to the kitchen. He was going to miss Anders, even if he had turned his back on him, even if they hadn’t spoken much the last few years.

The sound was much louder now and Hans Christian prepared himself to do a little scolding before he reached out for the handle. No one was allowed to eat outside of hours. He opened the door and stepped in with a small gasp.

With a trembling hand he reached into his pocket of the cardigan and pulled out his crucifix.

Chapter 15

I wrote for two hours and then the story was done. My editor had given me until midnight to finish it and a few minutes before the clock on the wall showed midnight I pressed ‘send’ on the computer. Satisfied I leaned back in my chair with a small sigh. This was a story no one else had, I was certain of that. The story about the religious sect who thought their leader was possessed by a demon and therefore didn’t call for an ambulance when he was in fact dying of what they now believe is food poisoning. That was bound to be the talk of the town by tomorrow.

I yawned and got up from my chair. My back was killing me. The chair I had been sitting on was horrible. Good thing I wasn’t going to work anymore on this vacation, I thought and went to wake up Sune and get him upstairs with me. I exhaled and looked at him. He was such a sweet guy. Was I in love with him? I believed I was. But I still felt he was so young, at least sometimes. There was so much he didn’t know. Yet - being a father and all - he was really mature for his age and I loved spending time with him and Tobias. We had fun. Sune was a lot of fun to be with.

He opened his eyes and looked at me. “I guess I fell asleep,” he mumbled.

“I guess you did,” I said smiling. I leaned over and kissed his lips. They were so soft, so gentle, so sweet. So different from kissing Peter who had always been rough and demanding.

“I was dreaming,” he said. “A great dream.”

I put my head on his chest and enjoyed the resounding sound of his voice through it. “That sounds nice,” I mumbled.

“It was about you,” he said and chuckled.

“I like the sound of that. Keep going,” I closed my eyes and enjoyed a rare moment of closeness.

Sune chuckled again. “We had a baby, you and I.”

I opened my eyes and lifted my head. “We did what?”

Sune smiled gently. “We had a baby. You had it, but I was the father. You and I made a baby together. Isn’t that wonderful?”

I froze completely while staring at him. I exhaled. “I think it is time for bed now,” I said and got up from the couch.

Sune stared at me. “It was just a dream,” he said. “What’s going on? Why are you freaking out?”

“I’m not freaking out,” I said sensing my voice becoming slightly shrill. I forced it to calm down.

“You’re acting weird, then. Why are you acting weird?” Sune sat up on the couch and looked at me.

“I’m not acting weird. You’re the one being weird about this. You were sleeping. I get it. People have dreams. Nothing to it. I dream all the time about stuff that doesn’t matter, right? I mean, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“You’re still being weird,” Sune said and got up from the couch.

“No I’m not,” I exclaimed a little too loud.

“Then explain to me what is going on, because I don’t think I understand. Either you’re mad at me for something or …” Sune exhaled.

“Or what, Sune? What?”

He exhaled again. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe you have PMS or something. Maybe we just need some sleep.”

I froze. “PMS or something? What kind of statement is that supposed to be?”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand women,” he said.

“Try anyway. I don’t like to be called mad when I’m not mad. I thought we were having a nice time here.”

“Well I thought so too, but suddenly it was like you were mad at me for having that dream or something.”

“Why should I be mad about that?” I asked defensively.

“I don’t know, okay! Could we please just leave it?”

I gesticulated resignedly. “Alright. Whatever.”

Sune sighed again. “I’m going to bed.”

“For your information I don’t suffer from PMS,” I said as I watched him walk up the stairs.

“Okay,” he said. “Whatever you tell yourself.”

I snorted in anger in his direction. What the hell just happened there? I thought to myself as Sune disappeared up the stairs. How was I supposed to react? I was confused. I couldn’t go up there now, he would only think he had won, so I had to stay at least a couple of minutes to make a statement. At the same time I was so tired I could sleep standing up so I really didn’t want to wait. My pride kept me in the living room for another five minutes before I finally caved and started walking up the stairs.

I only went a few steps before I froze by the sound of another wave of horrifying deathly screams.

Sune came out on the stairs and walked towards me. The screams went through my bones. “Should we call for help?” I asked.

“I’m on it,” Sune said and walked downstairs to get his phone.

Chapter 16

The pain was excruciating. Nothing like anything Hans Christian had ever experienced. Not even when he succumbed himself to the mercy and strict hand and whip of Anders the Priest. Not even when Anders beat out the demons from his body and made him free again. Not even that pain was anything compared to what he was experiencing right now. It was like needles, no more like knives trying to penetrate through his skin from the inside. It was as if his blood was boiling, his internal organs on fire.

People gathered around him after they had heard him scream. He lay on the kitchen floor crouched, crumpled up, vomiting blood and trying desperately to talk, but only being able to utter a few incoherent words. It was like his body was giving up, one organ, one cell at a time. Even his mind seemed to be tricking him. He thought he saw visions, people from his past in the room with him, along with all the church members staring helplessly at him while he was tossing his body on the floor, screaming while blood ran from his eyes, ears and nose. It seemed his body was slowly dissolving from the inside, as if something was trying to get out. In his hand he still held his crucifix and every now and then he tried to lift it and command this pain to go away in the name of Jesus Christ, but the words came out spluttering with blood and nothing made sense to him anymore. He knew who had done this to him, he had stared into the face of his killer, but then he remembered no more. Next thing he found himself on the floor of the kitchen in a pain so tormenting he wished he could just die right away. He wasn’t afraid any longer. He wanted to go home. Home to be with Anders. His only problem was he wasn’t sure he was going to be with the good Lord anymore. Not after having stared the devil right into the eyes.

“Help …” he stuttered half choked by the blood in his throat. “Help me …”

Isabella entered the room and kneeled in front of him. Hans Christian managed to lift his head and look into her icy eyes. He had expected to be met with cold or even maybe compassion, but he saw neither. Instead he saw disgust. Isabella had loathed him from the beginning and now he was more appalling to her than ever.

“We need to clean him,” she said. “We might not be able to save his life, but we can rebuke the devil from him, so it won’t take his soul. We can still save his soul.”

They started chanting, singing and talking in tongues. Hans Christian moaned and groaned while more blood oozed out of him and onto the white tiles that he himself had installed many years ago. In all of the spectator’s eyes he saw fear. They were scared of him, of what was happening to him. When he moaned and screamed in pain they drew back. Isabella lifted her crucifix in the air and yelled Latin phrases, commanded the devil to leave his body. Another wave of pain flushed through him and caused him to vomit more blood. He felt something in his mouth and spat it out only to realize it was a tooth. One by one he spat them all out on the tiles. He touched his hair and pulled it out in big lumps. Just like Anders had done.

In the seconds before he died.

“It’s just like the Priest,” he heard someone whisper.

Hans Christian lifted his head and locked eyes with one of the spectators, the one who had spoken. Mette Grithfeldt. He saw her draw back, fear and anxiety radiating from her eyes. Isabella was still chanting, singing, commanding, yelling at the devil. Hans Christian stared at Mette Grithfeldt trying so hard to speak to her, to all of them, to tell them to get out of here while they could, to escape, tell them that they weren’t safe here anymore, but as he opened his mouth, torn by pain, only blood came sputtering out. Blood and one single word:

“…you … you …” Hans Christian heard himself say. He wanted badly to say more than that. He wanted to tell her to get away. Tell her to run now as fast as she could and never return to this forsaken place.

“Don’t listen to him,” Isabella yelled. “He is possessed. It’s the devil trying to manipulate you. Don’t listen to it, don’t let him get his words inside of you. They’ll poison you and eat you up. Don’t let him get to you.”

Mette Grithfeldt drew further backwards. Her eyes stared at him with horror. She didn’t understand that he cared about her. Mette Grithfeldt had been Hans Christian’s only friend when Anders had turned his back at him. That was why Hans Christian was approaching her now. He knew she would listen; she would understand if he could get the words across his lips and press them out through the terrifying pain. If he could find the strength to utter them, he would be able to warn her, tell her to leave. He cared about her. It was too late for him, but she could save herself.

But all he managed to do was to lift his hand and point at her before the pain became so unbearable he could no longer feel it or sense anyone around him. Everything drowned, their faces, their voices and suddenly it all went so quiet.

As life slowly oozed out of Hans Christian and reality became nothing but a blur he was certain he heard one last sound clearly and distinctly.

That of his father smacking his lips.

Chapter 17

Sune hung up. He looked at me and then put his arm around me. Then he kissed my forehead.

“They’re on their way. I told them I thought it sounded like the screams we heard last night but I had no idea where they came from. They said I wasn’t the first calling about it and they were on their way to check on it now but it could take up to half an hour for them to get all the way out here. Guess we are just far from everything, huh?”

I held him close to me. My body was shivering. If it was the cold or fear I couldn’t tell. The screaming was horrifying, piercing. “Do you think it is coming from the camp again?” I asked.

Sune shrugged. “It might as well be coming from somewhere else.”

I exhaled. I was getting scared. Afraid that it might be some disease killing people or maybe something in some food we had all bought in the local supermarket or maybe it was in the water? I was thinking, speculating insanely. Could any of us have gotten this somehow as well? I looked up at Sune. He seemed calm, but concerned.

I glanced towards the door behind where the children were asleep. What if any of them caught it? What if Dad did? He had a weak heart. He would never survive it.

The door to the children’s bedroom opened. Julie stuck her head out. I smiled and pulled away from Sune. Then I walked towards her.

“Could I borrow those earplugs again, Mom?” she asked.

“Of course you can. I put them in the top drawer in your room just in case. Let’s go get them.” I turned and looked at Sune just before I went into the bedroom following Julie. He smiled back. Tomorrow night, I thought. Tomorrow night we will be able to sleep together again.

This time the screaming didn’t last as long as the first night. About twenty minutes later it was suddenly gone and I fell asleep next to Julie. My sleep was uneasy though mostly because Julie kept taking over my pillow and kicking me in my stomach, but also because I couldn’t escape this eerie feeling inside that something was really wrong in this place. The screams scared me. It was one thing that a person died from something they didn’t know what originated from, but a second death? Would I wake up to find another person had died from this around here?