Deliver us to evil, p.13
Deliver Us to Evil, page 13
“Watch your fucking tongue when you speak to me, boy,” Father Andy hissed. His eyes burned with a cold fury, widening with some sort of demonic death stare that was as blank as a canvas for painting. But the only colors that were splattered about were of a red anger, an orange rage, and a yellow hatred. “You have no idea what you’re talking about; and if you even think about turning now, I’ll ensure you feel all Hell come down on you and your family.” Arthur had palpable fear on display, on display for the invisible masses of whomever may be observing besides him and Father Andy. The invisible audience—the public who were destined to hear about what the pope of the Woodheart Catholic Church has done behind closed doors for decades—were anticipating the drop.
“You can’t keep this up forever,” he continued. “People will notice. The police barely got a lead in the Rory Fraser case; and those Goth Kids, Vampire Kids, whatever they’re called—they're invested in this, too. They’re all getting closer and closer!” Father Andy leaned in, his voice ever so low and menacing. “I’ll kill each one of those kids in a slow manner and save that fuckface I already got once for last. And mark my words, Arthur Knight.” His wrinkly, bony hand proceeded to reach for Arthur’s neck, roughly wrapping his fingers around his skin and enter the base into a suffocating chokehold. Father Andy had the face of Satan in this moment, as told through the perspective of Arthur being choked by the pope. “This church has been safe from scandal for years on end. I’ve ensured that you can live happy with this church so long as I exist...so if you betray me now, you’ll not only ruin yourself by leaving your wife vulnerable for the endless assault I will vow to bring unto her, but you will also bring the church down with you! And on that day, I’ll have that pathetic Protestant whore be forced to sit down and watch me slit your throat and fuck the wound until you’re left there decomposing like a fucking skin-suit! Am I clear on my words, fag enabler?!”
With the increasingly derogatory threats, Arthur’s resolve began to waver as the weight of his own complicity in Father Andy’s takeover of the Catholic Church pressed down on him. This dark bond that tied him to Father Andy, a pact made in desperation and fear of being falsely accused of some of the things done under the pope’s helm, was only a noose that was forever around Arthur’s neck and not just a pair of fingers. “I...I won’t say anything,” Arthur gasped through broken breaths, both hands still fighting against the grip. “B-but—”
“Good.” Father Andy threw Arthur back, causing him to collapse against the office door. The former’s demeanor shifted back to one of cold authority as he watched the priest stand up and gasp for air. “Your life depends on your loyalty...so take your pick.” Arthur nodded weakly and turned to leave the office, scrambling away as he slammed the door behind him and fled the church. The weight and guilt of the situation was nearly unbearable, impaling the closing shadows around him. As Father Andy stood in his office after watching Arthur go, he grew a twisted sense of satisfaction in the back of his brain that was already decaying from cancer. It wasn’t that death was what he feared. Rather, he feared having to answer to the Devil.
Hence, he used his power to continue mongering fear into those close to him in terms of power. Because in this game, the balance of power, one that was as fragile as him, could shift at any moment. But for now, he’d continue playing the role of the pope of the Woodheart Catholic Church that everyone adored. And the lies about Arthur being self-centered and arrogant against others was yet another bluff to throw others under the bus to further delay his incoming retributed usurpation. But if anyone else dared to get curious about these secrets, they were no longer a spectator—just another pawn to overrun on the chessboard of doom.
Chapter IX
If Atticus wanted to delve further into what the cult was possibly connected to, he had to get in touch with some old friends.
The crack of dawn swallowed the town of Woodheart, casting a pale light—one that was as pale as Death—on the streets that had been set as a stage for so many secrets about, especially with the church. But as the moon sleeps, Atticus does not. As the brains of the Vampire Kids, he needed more than his studies and research to learn more about the Swanford cult. Therefore, a desperate time like these called for desperate measures. In a small cafe, one that wasn’t the suspected crack den that was the Blue Moon Diner, Atticus nervously waited a handful of visitors. Whom he anticipated were the Let’s Hunt Anomalies club members—the ones who were initially accused of starting a satanic panic epidemic amongst the youth. The group was formed in Polk County, Florida, following a strange series of supernatural events supposedly involving inhumane anomalies in the urbanized city of Otterport.
Atticus befriended the head of the group, Lynn Merrick, through an online forum. This came between shared passions for researching supernatural oddities (and metal music) considering Lynn was the lead singer of a band of her own—The Black Moon Trials. Along with Lynn came her girlfriend, Celine Mann. The Let’s Hunt Anomalies Club had a personal cult following, being a duo group that had dedicated listeners and people who dedicated online forums to their discoveries. The fanbase was thanks to Lynn incorporating her band’s fanbase to also support her side project of this supernatural-paranormal-hunting group. And people ate that up like crazy. But that didn’t mean the duo was safe from controversy from the local towns. Otterport’s respective residents has repeatedly accused them of causing a Satanic curse to run amok. But that’s the thing: they weren’t responsible. Simply put, the concept of secularism co-existing where all is viewed to be strictly “Holy” was a concept that many were not ready to talk about. And of course, not everyone was a Christian. But many people aren’t ready for that conversation either!
While gathering contacts for a meeting to consult with what to do next, Atticus contacted Detective Forrest. Meanwhile, in which, the detective was nervously pacing in the back of his head, sitting in his office. The weight of the ongoing investigation to many connections pressed down on him. He was always skeptical of what the Vampire Kids did; but there was potentially no way they had any part in the Swanford cult. Sure, they were immature for their own good, but something on this extreme of a scale just seemed impossible. His secretary, Jane Harper, watched the detective with great concern back at his office. “Let me guess, it’s about the investigation?” she asked, setting down a neatly-organized stack of files on Detective Forrest’s desk. Forrest sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingertips as he looked up at Jane. “I don’t know. I do not know. I feel like Arthur is hiding something he doesn’t wanna tell me.”
“The so-called ‘memory lapse,’” Jane guessed. “Yeah! H-He said that that’s what it was. But that’s not what I wanna believe.”
“You don’t happen to suspect he’s hiding something for Father Andy, do you?”
“I cannot suspect that!” Forrest shook his head and frowned, standing up from his seat and reaching for a cigarette from the carton box. “But without concrete evidence, I can’t make a move. And now those damn kids...they’re getting involved in something for grown-ups. They should be having fun, listening to heavy music, wanting to break stuff! But no, they’re not alright. And everything is fucked.” Jane nodded her head with understanding, wanting to add to Forrest’s comments but ultimately refusing. She, herself, did not want to feel as if she were burdening Forrest, so she continued to uphold her role as the attentive secretary, wishing she could do far more than that to give him a much-needed break.
Suddenly, the phone rang and interrupted their conversation. Jane picked it up and answered, listening to the voice on the other line for a few seconds before handing it to Forrest. “A kid named Atticus is searching for you,” she informed. “Oh, it’s one of them...” Forrest took the phone, shaking his head before tightening his expression and the grip on the telephone at the same time. He cleared his throat and gave his usual greeting as if it were any ordinary call.
“Detective Forrest of the Woodheart Police Department speaking,” he spoke.
“Detective, it’s urgent,” Atticus replied, his tone calm given he was sitting in a cafe but he remained insistent. “You said to come to you about anything we find out about the Swanford cult case, right?”
“Right,” Forrest replied. “Hey kid, what are you doing up early this morning?”
“We found something at the Swanford church ruins. You need to—!” Forrest straightened his posture as he heard Atticus’s words. He stopped him in his tracks as he thought to himself, “those fuckers went where?!”
He was unable to believe the Vampire Kids took matters into their own hands and decided to travel to Swanford. It was one thing to keep doing research through other means—whether it be from the Internet or where else—but to go to the actual site of the church’s ruins was a great compromise of safety. Forrest was irritated by the nonchalant confession, scolding Atticus on the other side of the line. “Why would you go there? Son, you could’ve gotten yourself killed!”
“I know we should’ve stay put, but we found something! There are tunnels under the church.” Atticus’s words were enough to make Detective Forrest stop in his tracks. Tunnels? Under the church?
“Tunnels? Under the Swanford church?”
“SO LET ME GET THIS straight,” Forrest said, clasping his hands together as he sat in the booth seat across from Atticus. His notepad was laid out on the table before him, the open page scribbled with notes from the conversation. “The cult that was occupying the Swanford Catholic Church had a system of underground tunnels. Is that what I’m hearing right now?” Forrest leaned in, trying his best to ensure Atticus wasn’t bullshitting him with this wild claim. The latter simply nodded in response. And that was all the former needed to know.
Forrest sighed and leaned back in the booth seat, almost slumping but upholding his posture. “Something’s not right here. Especially with the tunnels leading to Woodheart. The pastor didn’t have time to address rumors regarding strange activity at service this morning, either; that’s due to the cardinal dying.” Atticus shivered softly at the mention of the dead cardinal. He knew, deep down, that the church had to inform the public about their passing, but not about whether they were killed or passed in their sleep.
The rest of the Vampire Kids, who were forced to wake up after Atticus left early to talk to Detective Forrest, circled around the table as they listened intently. Frankly, the cafe was nearly empty when the rest of the group arrived, giving plenty of time to talk before the morning crowd trickled in from Sunday mass. The soothing, relatively quiet ambience and aromas of morning breakfast was a contrast to the darkness in which the goth teenagers and adult detective congregated. “Last night was a movie and not in a good way,” Xander sighed, huffing out a drag of their joint.
“Yeah, go figure,” Damien scoffed. “If it hadn’t been for that dead cardinal, nobody would lend an ear to any of us. We’re all freaks!”
“Bet your asses lucky that I’m willing to give an ear,” Detective Forrest chimed. “I’m having to fill in as a knight in shining armor for the lot of you. But I will warn you: I can’t guarantee you’ll be taken heavily by the sheriff given he’s got not the best bone to pick with y’all.”
And Forrest had a point; the Vampire Kids had already done a handful of misdemeanors during this wild ride, from vandalism of a law enforcement vehicle to criminal trespassing to supposed unlawful assembly (they came to disrupt a group of Christian protesters outside of a parenthood clinic.) “But all in all, I’ll do my best to keep a prosecutor’s hands off the lot of you to keep you guys outta juvie,” Forrest added. “Yeah, ‘cuz we can’t go to juvie because—!” Xander began before the rest of the group followed, finishing their sentence knowing it was the same phrase every time.
“Because we still have our young, hot lives to live,” the other three finished in a tired yet lively tone. They smirked in response and nodded at Forrest’s words, ultimately relieved to hear that they would be potentially pardoned for what they did last Wednesday. Suddenly, the bell above the entrance rung with an audible ring, alerting the Vampire Kids of the entry of some new faces. However, they weren’t another pack of strangers that skipped church to be here—it was Atticus’s visitors. The familiar faces were rather striking yet memorable to Atticus, but foreign to everyone else. There was Lynn Merrick, former frontman of The Black Moon Trials-turned-supernatural survivor. She had jet-black hair with bright purple streaks, showing off an ample gothic look—in the similar vein of the Vampire Kids but more leaning toward a pastel-esque look. With extravagant accessories, like the large bow sitting atop her head and the platform boots, and clothing with lines of black and purple just like her hair, Lynn was certainly a sight to take in. Needless to say, her hazelnut eyes were piercing just like her overall look.
Right behind Lynn came her girlfriend, Celine Mann. The tech-savvy powerhouse of the Let’s Hunt Anomalies Club, her regular look was a stark contrast against Lynn’s all-out pastel gothic look. Her shoulder-length auburn hair was rather a fiery compliment to the persona she had as so did her blue, diamond eyes. As a supernatural expert, Celine knew where to look if she wanted answers to anything. Even if it were anything from the darkest corners of the Internet? Yup, she knew how to get in and get out...safely. Therefore, her expertise was a staple for the duo. Atticus’s face glowed with immense joy at seeing his old friends, here reuniting in a small cafe to discuss demon-hunting. Or realistically, cult-leader-hunting. “Atticus!” Lynn exclaimed, giving the former a hearty hug. “It’s so damn good to see you again.”
“My pleasure, Lynn,” Atticus replied, pulling away to reciprocate with her and Celine. It’s certainly been too long since they saw each other. “You said you needed our help,” Celine began talking. “So, what’s up?”
Atticus looked around him, ensuring there weren’t any eavesdroppers beside him and the Vampire Kids. “It’s about the Swanford cult ca—”
“The Swanford case?!” Celine cried, lowering her voice after hearing how it rung out throughout the cafe. “Okay, okay...but really? You and your other friends are in that case too?”
“Looking into it!” Damien butted into the conversation. “We didn’t do anything but we want to help the community and, well, this kid here.” He patted Taylor’s back to signal to who he was talking about. The latter nervously chuckled in response, feeling a shiver down his spine after the contact. “Alright, everyone, this is the Let’s Hunt Anomalies Club,” Atticus introduced the trio to the Vampire Kids.
“Lynn, Celine, these are my friends. We’re called the Vampire Kids.” Detective Forrest groaned softly to himself at the sight of the trio, looking back at the other Vampire Kids and back at the Let’s Hunt Anomalies Club. “Jesus fuck, there’s more of you guys?!” He spoke with a normal tone in front of the rest of the group. “Why can’t y’all’s parents just keep close eye on you lads instead of letting you run amok like this?”
“You sound like a dropkick when you’re complaining about our parents like that,” Xander shrugged and grinned in return. This was only meant to poke fun at Forrest being an Aussie. “Whatever,” Forrest shook his head at Xander’s comment. “So, what’s the analysis on what we’re probably dealing with?” The newcomers sat down at the booth table, technically bunching everyone against one another as the conversation continued and intensified with mystery surrounding the case. Lynn spoke up first.
“For starters, there’s definitely some occult stuff going on here,” she pointed out. “I think it has something to do with the fact that demonic influence has been more rampant over centuries on end. And if rumor has it, it has to do with the George Lukins exorcism.”
Celine gave her input as soon as Lynn finished, swift to make the claim irrefutable. “It’s supposed to be a deep-rooted tie to this cult that’s operated for centuries throughout multiple church locations, usually occupied by forceful invasion and indoctrination.”
“You mean to tell us they forced the Catholics to worship Satan?” Damien tilted his head with curiosity and a hint of uncertainty at Celine’s words. But the details only got worse from there. “And what happened if—”
“They killed them for prison food,” Atticus shrugged, cringe growing on his face as he said those words. The rest of the group groaned with disgust and disbelief. But what he was saying was no laughing matter, let alone a false shot in the dark. “Maybe not prison food, but for sure, they killed traitors or those who tried to elope from the grand council of whoever ran the shit-show, or what was left of it back in the day.” But despite Atticus’s words, they turned out to be flat out true. With the prisoners, they were forcefully fed human meat that was made from remnants of those who refused the ways of the cult. Besides that, the cult was left unnamed given there were already multiple satanic groups spread throughout the state alone. Therefore, they were just another branch of a larger church that was built for the fiery rays and depths of Satan, worshipping something beyond the Bible’s truth that was painted a lie. So, while the bowels of the Earth hid the gates of Hell, it did not hide the influent rise of Hell on Earth. Anyone who had no such knowledge was a low-headed imbecile!
