The Second Sight – Episode 47

THE SECOND SIGHT EPISODE 47

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THAT VILE THING AGAIN

My adversary rushed at me, swinging his bat with both hands, his lower lip gripped tightly between his teeth to emphasize his destructive intentions.

I spun away from his swing, completed my turn and slammed a fist with all my strength against the side of his jaw.

The blow shook him bad, and sudden blood spurted from his nostrils. He began to sag, dropping his bat, his dazed eyes filled with shock.

I had expected my blow to halt his progress, but as his jaw slackened I realized suddenly that his jaw was broken. I had felt the force of the blow, and I knew deep down that it wasn’t my own strength.

It was happening again: I was filled with alien power, divine strength.

There was movement to my right and I spun to my left, missing the fist of a unclad man on whose D*** was a sort of lighted c-ndom that depicted many colours as if he got a million fireflies in there.

And then a straight fist travelled toward my jaw. I grabbed it, spun with it, and threw its owner into the wall. Once again I felt the power, and he slammed into the wall with such force that paintings came tumbling down, and part of the concrete peeled away.

The man fell down, blood oozing thickly from his flattened nose and mouth.

I could feel the shock rippling in the room now.

But they were not done yet.

Another huge man was on his feet, coming at me with a terrible knife glinting in his hand. His face was carefully made up, and indeed he looked kind of womanish in the face, although his size belied any claim to a fair lady.

He lunged at me, the knife aimed at my throat. He was carrying his weapon like a professional, turning it expertly to enhance the direction of his attack – sideways, straight in, upper slash, diagonal cut.

I weaved back, always a fraction of a second earlier than him. He lunged, the blade swishing up toward my stomach.

I side-stepped, gripped his weapon wrist with my right hand, and slammed my left elbow into his face. I heard bone breaking, and then I twisted his hand and bent it inward, breaking it.

He squealed like a gutted pig, and as he began to fall I slammed a foot into his exposed genitals.

He fell down whimpering, his body curled up into the foetal position.

I looked around me deliberately, contemptuously. The fight had gone out of them, I saw.

My savage fighting prowess had cowed them.

Jo had regained her composure somewhat, and now she fired her gun into the ceiling, startling them even further.

I didn’t wait any longer.

I was through the door and found myself in a lighted corridor. There were two closed doors on my right, bare wall on my left, a closed door at the end of the corridor.

The stench was sickening now, causing me to gag and dry cough. I kicked the first door open and rushed in.

He was there.

It was there.

I came to a halt, my body going slack, and my jaws separating in a soundless cry of horror, despair and fear at what I saw.

Sergeant Jules Asomani was unclad.

His skin was an unhealthy brown, marked with tiny black dots as if he had recovered from chicken pox quite recently.

Flesh hung from his body in folds; under his eyes and chin, on his upper arms, on his chest, around his stomach, wa-ist and h¡ps. His legs were surprisingly spindly and hairy, giving him a grotesque look.

He was kneeling on the bed facing me.

In front of him was a very young boy – I guessed not more than fifteen years old and yet to shed his teenage plumpness – also quite unclad.

The boy was on all fours, but Asomani was gripping his neck, forcing his face into the suffocating confines of the filthy sheets covering the bed.

The boy’s neck was badly chaffed and showed a terrible red.

His back too was badly bruised and was even spurting little drops of blood from the constant slaps from his tormentor. He was too weak to struggle now, and he only uttered low mo-ns of pain as Asomani assaulted him from behind.

He was plunging in and out of the boy savagely, inhumanely, and from time to time he brought the flat of his right hand down hærd on the boy’s back, and as soon as the boy shuddered with the pain Asomani would curl his fingers into claws and rake it down the bruised back, bringing yells of pain from his victim.

But it wasn’t Asomani, of course.

On his narrow forehead was the mark of the beast, blazing and dripping blood.

666!

His eyes were scary circling orbs of violet, infinitely evil as they regarded me.

LEGION

(ancient, croaky, devilish voice)

I KNOWETH THEE WOULD BE COMING, YE STINKING LITTLE WH-RE p***y!

Pure evil…from the depths of the vilest sewer.

He thr-st into the boy with frenzied cruelty, and then brought his claw hand down hærd on the boy’s back, drawing a four-fingered trail of blood in the young flesh.

The boy’s back arched with acute pain, and he thrashed wildly, making choking sounds as his face was pressed fiercely into the covers.

And, predictably, I lost my cool.

BOAT

(wrathfully, fiercely)

I came for you, you bas***d!

LEGION

(scre-ming)

THOU ARTH NOTHING BUT A PUNY EARTHLING!! WE ART NOT AFRAID OF THEE. YE ART ONLY A PIECE OF STINKING an-l sh*t, AND THOU ARTH INCOMPLETE!!

The Legion scre-med right back, the colours and shapes of its eyes changing rapidly now.

I jumped unto the bed and raised my right hand.

BOAT

(furiously)

In the name of Jesus Christ – ”

I began in a voice choking with fury at the sight of what was in front of me.

And the Legion began to laugh.

It was a rumbling sound that shook the wh0le building and reverberated off the walls, almost causing me to go deaf.

LEGION

(scre-ming shrilly)

NAY, NAY, NAY, NAY!!NYE CANST CAST US OUT INTO THE COLD! YE ARTH INCOMPLETE!!

BOAT

(angrily, desperately)

Be quiet, demons! “In the name of Jesus Christ, be still and come out of him this instant!

I was losing it again, succ-mbing to its mental torture.

I was beginning to feel that crushing inadequacy again, and in its wake was the agony of another failure, and the fear of what would eventually happen to me.

LEGION

(scre-ming)

NAY, NAY, NAAAYY!! THOU ARTH INCOMPLETE!!

And then Asomani threw the boy away from him.

The plump teenager fell off the bed and began to whimper.

Asomani was getting to his feet, and my horrified eyes were drawn to his er-ct member which had begun to jerk convulsively as he climaxed.

I jumped back, losing my concentration as his ejaculation fluids spewed out in mighty white jets.

Somehow I couldn’t tear my eyes away from that part of his body, and when a stringent voice scre-med in my ears I knew with a sinking feeling that I had failed again even before I looked up.

Asomani was still jerking in the throes of his pleasure, but the demons in,side him were laughing with glee.

He was holding a heavy automatic pistol in his hand, and he had pressed it to his temple.

LEGION

(in a rumbling voice)

THOU WANT A BATTLE WITH ME? PREPARE THEN, YE INCOMPLETE INCOMPETENT!! PREPARE TO DIE!!

BOAT

(with horror)

Oh, no!

I gro-ned, and then Asomani pulled the trigger.

The heavy slug bullet blasted one side of his face clearly across the room.

Blood, bone and brain matter spattered against the wall, and then the body was sagging back unto the bed, the gun dropping from his nerveless hand, blood already pumping out of what was left of his head.

And then they began to come out of him!

Evil creatures of all sizes and shapes, of all colours and hues!

I could see them coming out of the dead body, thousands of scre-ming creatures, whirling angrily around my head, each trying to tear me apart.

I stared into thousands of hate-filled eyes, and saw serrated teeth coming for my jugular.

PUNY EARTHLING

The fear was thick in my throat as I tottered off the bed and fell down, covering my head with my arms as they floated around me, scre-ming with fury and sheer malice as they swooped over my body.

I could feel them trying to bite and scratch, trying to pull out my entrails… and all the while the terrible scre-ms continued! Face after evil face descended on me, trying to devour, scre-ming with frustration as their assaults failed.

My bravado was gone.

I lay on the floor whimpering, shaking violently and wishing it to stop. The room was filled with thousands of devilish things trying to devour me.

I couldn’t say a word. I couldn’t even scre-m…my terror was that complete!

My panic had peaked, and my life would never be the same again.

Finally – sweetly – I felt them begin to move, crashing out of the room with high-pitched of disappointed fury.

And then, finally, I was alone…in one piece, and at peace!

I was trembling violently as I got first to my knees, and then dragged myself to my feet. Dimly I heard scre-ming, but it came from far away.

My brain was still clogged with what had happened. My body, which had nearly entered a state of total shutdown, was recovering slowly.

Through blurred eyes I saw the young bleeding boy whimpering in one corner, his panicked eyes fixed on me.

I stared blankly at him, not knowing what to do next, and then…

scre-ms…oh, Lord, Jo!

I forced my feet to move.

I fought the overpowering fear that was clinging to my heart and cut a dazed zigzagged route out of the room. When I burst into the living-room I saw Jo standing against the wall, her gun pointing at the huge man with the hideously painted face, the one who has been striving to look like a woman.

He was half-crouched, hands extended like talons, l-ips barred from huge teeth, low growling sounds emanating from his throat.

The Legion had found another host!

On his forehead was the tell-tale mark of the beast, and his eyes glowed not red this time, but pure fire!

I could see the flames licking hungrily in his eyes. I had never seen anything like it, and never wished to.

The fire was blazing, shooting crazily in his eyes, and as I watched I saw little tufts of smoke seeping from the corner of his eyes, tendrils of hatred that curled slightly in the air and disappeared.

The other men had left the room, probably scared off by the gunshot, and had taken their wounded comrades with them.

I leaned against the door, hands gripping the posts to hold myself up.

I knew that I could never attempt any exorcism under the present conditions; to do that was to invite certain death on the man, and with no other hosts available Jo would be occupied, and she was the last person I wanted to see dead.

The unclad man turned to me, growled and hissed, and then he turned and lunged for the door.

Jo was breathing hærd, her frantic eyes large in her face, her terror a living animal that threatened to devour her. I covered the space between us quickly and swept her into my arms.

She was trembling, and her arms went around me, gripping fiercely, almost savagely – and in her weakness I found a little of my strength.

In giving her solace I found a little self-respect, and the dying embers of a will to continue hunting to the end. An engine started up, and I pushed her back gently.

BOAT

(softly)

There’s a little boy in there that needs help bad. Please get Chief Inspector Frost here. I need to do this.

I was out of the door in a flash and just in time to see the silver BMW convertible shooting out of the driveway, tires screeching and taillights winking.

I raced to the Chrysler and jumped in, starting and turning it even before my door was closed.

I found the BMW on the stretch leading toward the heart of Portville, and I stepped on the accelerator.

It was a crazy ride, especially when we joined the main flow of traffic.

He was driving like a man gone berserk. He maintained a steady direct course, never swerving to avoid other motorists in his path. Drivers had to swerve quickly into the free lanes to avoid being rammed from behind.

I kept my hand on the horn as I bore down on him, swerving from lane to lane, using my brakes and gears like crazy.

I knew deep within me that even if I stopped chasing him he would end up dead. The infuriated demons were bent on teaching me a lesson, and they were drawing me along for the ride for the sheer craziness of it.

It was like a magnet, and I felt drawn forward despite my urge for rest and release. This was evil incarnate, the supreme diabolic nightmare and it didn’t come any more terrifying than what I had been going through.

The sirens and the crows appeared on the scene at the same time.

The unclad man was now off the main road and was traveling at breakneck speed down a busy street that had glass-fronted shops on both sides.

People were scre-ming and fleeing the crazed driver.

I saw a man jumping off his motorbike and landing on the shoulders of the streets awkwardly just a second before the BMW rammed into the bike, sending it flying into the glass entrance of a boutique.

And then the black and white police sedans appeared ahead, sirens a continuous wail that jarred the nerves, lights flashing wildly. And just as I began to ease down on the accelerator the sky darkened slightly, and I looked up to see the hundreds of white crows circling the sky wildly, wings flapping crazily.

Suddenly two cops on motorbikes were behind me, signalling me to stop. I swung the huge car to the curb, and killed the engine.

Just ahead of me the g-y guy stopped the car just as I thought he was about to ram it into the police sedans blocking the street.

Four cops were out with their guns drawn and they were commanding the unclad man to come out of the car with his hands in the air.

I got out of my car, ignoring the cop who was covering me with a gun. I looked at the crows again. These were no ordinary birds, I knew.

They were lean and hungry, and the strangest thing about them was that they made no sound as they circled overhead, round and round and round, their pattern an uncanny perfect circle in the sky, maintaining the same distances between one bird and the next.

The door of the BMW opened, and the unclad man emerged. He ignored the cops and jumped first on the hood of the car, and then onto the roof, where he stood, arms akimbo, strutting defiantly.

The watching crowd began to babble excitedly.

The cops were shouting at him, commanding him to get down, but he paid no heed. He kept turning and twisting until his eyes met mine, and then he stopped.

He glared at me – no, the Legion glared – and its fiery eyes still burned like fire, the yellow flames seeming to leap hungrily now. The mark blazed on its forehead: 666!

Not that the cops or the onlookers saw all these. They simply saw a crazed unclad man dancing on the roof of a sports car.

The demons looked at me with utter contempt, and the muscles of my stomach began to bunch up painfully.

I knew it.

There was going to be death!

And when it came it came fast, with terrifying consequences.

One minute the crows were circling, and then suddenly they swooped, going for the unclad man. Their wings still flapped, but apart from that they made no sound.

I saw the leader of the pack, the huge dirty crow that had dogged my tail ever since I went to see Pastor Geoffrey Sam of Fairview. It came in like a jet bomber, its speed and accuracy uncanny.

Its claws struck the unclad man in the face, holding fast, and then its beak darted forward, sinking into the man’s right eye.

The unclad man scre-med and brought up his hands to his face, but the crow fired itself outward, dragging something behind it.

I watched helplessly with a hollow ache in the pit of my stomach that it was the man’s eye. The g-y man was scre-ming, clutching at his face as blood oozed between his fingers!

To be continued…