“All right, I’ll tell you what I know for sure. I’ve heard a lot, from a lot of people, but I’ll tell you what I saw and what Victor told me.”
Five years in the past, a youthful Aaron stood alone in the corner of an abandoned building, hiding in the shadows. A single lit candle stood next to an open stairwell. A few beads of sweat made their way down his brow as he drew his gun and began to make his way to the stairs. He knew that Biggs was in the corner opposite his position, Wedge was guarding the exit and Mike was at the back of the building, but that didn’t make him feel much better. Chanting voices filled the air as he cracked the stairwell door open, red light leaking into the atmosphere around him. His nerves got the best of him and he motioned to Biggs. The stout young man slinked over, keeping quiet and low to the ground. His weapon of choice, a double-barrel shotgun with knives spot-welded onto the sides, was in his hands and ready for action. The pair eased the door open together and walked through, knowing full well that they may end up taking lives before leaving that godforsaken place.
The cadre of worshippers gathered around a dead body and a pentagram of candles didn’t notice the two coming up slowly from the dimly lit exit. When they were within firing range, Aaron and Biggs stopped, levelled their weapons and stood firm. “Stop this twisted ritual and get out of our town.”, Aaron yelled. The group, all covered in blood, turned from their grim prize to eye the intruders. Of the six, only one lost their courage and bolted for the exit. Aaron and Biggs paid him no mind. The remaining five faced down the two gunmen much more boldly than unarmed people protected only by robes had any business being. “You heard me, fuckers!”, Aaron shouted across the distance, cocking his gun for effect. “Shoo!” A blast of red blazed past Aaron’s head, singing his hair. “Jesus!”, he cried and scrambled for cover. “The messiah is not here,” an unnatural voice boomed, “And he will not save you.” Aaron ducked behind a pillar and looked across the way to confirm that Biggs had done the same. Sharing a nod, the two poked their heads out from cover and fired indiscriminately. Their shots found their targets. Blood pooled on the ground, then ran toward the center of the room. “What the fuck?!”, Aaron screamed, and took off for the exit. “Nope!”, Biggs yelled as he did the same, “Fuck that shit, I’m out!” The door slammed shut in front of them
They turned around to face their new foe. A demonic presence stood tall and powerful, but without form all the same. A barrage of bullets whizzed right through it harmlessly, and another shredded the corpse that had been used to summon the demon to bits. When it didn’t disappear, Biggs fell to his knees and began praying. The demon laughed and approached him as it began to gain form. Twisted horns all over its body, at least fifty eyes and a number of appendages ending in tentacles, hooves and feet, all unnaturally gripping weapons, approached Biggs. After taking just a second to gather his courage, Aaron leapt up and threw a vicious punch at the demon’s cluster of eyes. To his surprise, the punch connected and rocked the demon on its feet, but didn’t do much damage. A foot on the end of a gnarled tendril of wood knocked the wind out of Aaron, then a hoof impacted his head, knocking him to the ground. By the time he could get up, the demon was almost upon Biggs.
The exit door caved in, hit by a 12 gauge. Wedge, Mike and a cop poured into the room. While the two gangsters peppered the demon with near-harmless bullets, the officer cried, “God help me!”, and fired his taser. The spikes hooked into the demon’s body and electricity jolted it hard. The officer kept the trigger down, afraid to let go. When the taser finally gave out, the demon was on the ground, convulsing and smoking. The officer rushed forward with a folding pocket knife drawn, ready to deliver the final blow. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me…”, he whispered to himself as he approached the demon slowly. A hoof on the end of a tentacle morphed into a wicked claw, pierced the cop’s chest and hosted him off his feet in one smooth and sudden motion. The officer was cast aside, gasping for breath and holding a gushing wound. Aaron took the cop’s place and stomped on the demon with both feet. The demon cried out, unable to resist Aaron’s onslaught. Biggs and Wedge joined him while Mike tended to the fallen cop, frantically dialing 911 on his cell phone and shouting “Officer down!” into the cop’s walkie-talkie.
The demon and the cop breathed their last simultaneously. The officer’s badge, bearing “Officer Victor Rosenkruez”, fell to the ground as Mike frantically shook him. “Wake up, copper! Wake up! Come on!”, Mike cried. The officer didn’t listen; he was already gone. The boys saw no better course of action than to flee. An ambulance arrived a few minutes later. The demon’s body had evaporated, leaving the officers on the scene to believe that either the caller, now long gone, had murdered Officer Rosenkruez, or he had gone down helping them against the five fallen cultists. The strange death wound on the officer’s body indicated a long knife, perhaps even a sword, had done him in.
Victor awoke naked, in a drawer. Some part of him remembered what had happened and wanted to scream for help, but a different part of him felt like it was awakening; like it needed to stir just a little longer. He decided to rest and wait until somebody opened the drawer. He ended up waiting for six days, not feeling a single pang of hunger, thirst, loneliness or an urge to go to the bathroom the entire time. A part-timer for a funeral home opened up the drawer and was shocked when Victor stretched and yawned, then leapt down from the drawer and gave him a cordial hello. The poor kid looked as though he may soil himself at any second. Victor started to walk away, then realized he was naked. “Clothing, please.”, he said coolly. The part-timer gave Victor the lavish suit that he was to be buried in. “I would like to announce to my loved ones that I am alive.” The part timer walked up as Victor was putting on the suit and looked at his chest. “H-how?!”, he stammered, “There was a giant stab wound here, entry and exit! Like somebody had run you through with a spear or something!” Victor simply shrugged. “Call it the grace of God?” An intense headache suddenly drove Victor to his knees. “Sweet Jesus, that - AAAAAGGGGGH!!” At the mention of the son of God, Victor’s pounding head seemed to explode. He waited in silent agony for it to pass, and when it did, he took a long breath in, then defiantly shouted, “In the name of Jesus!” The pain made his vision go white as he hit the floor.
“Yeah, it was the weirdest thing I had ever seen…” “ He heard people talking nearby as he awoke in a daze. He thought he may recognize the voice. “P-Pastor…? Pastor Tim?” Victor got to his feet as quickly as he could manage. His trusted Pastor, Timothy Saunders, appeared at his side, visibly shaken. “Brother Rosenkruez, can you tell me about… about this demon? The one that…”, the pastor couldn’t bring himself to say it. “The one that killed me.”, Victor interjected. Pastor Tim nodded gingerly.
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