A/N: And Chapter 25, halfway through the story by my notes, I'm surprised I even got this far.
Chapter 25
The first day after the curfew I had been violently sick, the stress, the pressure of the recent murders and general life had taken its toll on me and I had been ill in bed. The next day I had gotten better enough to actual move and contribute to my own life, on that same day over fifteen families had left town, moving with relatives for some time. Surprisingly Kyle had not been with them but he had said that his mother was on edge. The curfew was well enforced and had I been more of an extrovert I would have probably seen more police cars.
Everyone was sure that there was going to be another murder though, the doors were locked, the shutters closed and shops were out of business until time got better. Not many broke the curfew law.
On that Sunday, I had been invited by Damien to have dinner around his house. When he asked me by walking straight to my house, he had an odd gleam in his eye, something strangely both mischievous and worried at the same time.
We seldom talked on the walk. Keeping an eye and an ear out for any more gunshots or even screams.
When we got to his house though, it was empty. Silent and dark in the shadows of the neighbouring offices. Lucas's car was nowhere in sight.
I finally talked. "Damien… uh, why is there… no one."
He sighed and unlocked the door. "I have to check something," he explained, "and I need to ask you something?"
I did not have an amazing feeling about his words. "What is it?"
"Could you keep watch for me? If anything goes wrong I'll take the blame!"
"What's this all about?"
Damien unlocked the door and brought me inside.
"I have a basement to this place, I didn't even know that I had it, I'm gonna have a look around it… I just need you to tell me when my dad parks and I can deal with the rest. Ok?" He looked at me softly, pleading.
I gave in fast.
"Sure, yeah, I'll do it."
Suddenly he smiled, "thanks Philip, seriously, I've been worrying about this for ages."
And with that he moved to the side of the stairs and gave a light push. The stairs were completely solid, or seemed to be at first glance, there was no outline of a handle so when he pushed and a chunk of the wall swung inwards, I was forced silent by the event. The size was big enough for a person to walk through but it was irregular and went with the boards it made it seem as if it were just a wall. It made me think of the secret doorways used in old 60's spy flicks.
'What would Lucas need to hide so well?' I did not voice that.
Instead I asked, in a hushed whisper, "how did you find that?"
"I was walking downstairs yesterday, my footsteps were loud, from the open space below, and that they seemed to echo so I leaned on the wall and… well I nearly fell in! I think Dad must've forgotten to lock it, or we just haven't found it before or something," he explained and got out his phone, turned on the flashlight and moved inwards, swiftly being covered by the darkness behind.
Worry and panic set in fast and I slowly walked to the darkness, glancing backwards to the door in case Lucas suddenly arrived.
The doorway was strikingly black, as if it were just a solid wall of darkness taking place of the regular wall. It looked as if the shadows were crawling out the doorway and into the light. I got the mad thought to close the door, to lock my friend in but stop the darkness of whatever was down there. I decided against that, I wouldn't do that to my friend.
I leaned in and saw the piercing white beam of Damien's flashlight pierce the darkness like a holy weapon. He turned right down the long stairwell and the holy power was lost. I felt my heartbeat thump and thump; I could feel my blood through the veins in my neck. I felt gooseflesh on my arms and my throat was dry.
'What's the worst that could be down there?' I feebly reasoned with myself. Somehow, I knew that there was something menacing down in the dark basement. "What the hell!" Damien shouted, echoing up the stairwell and becoming quickly silent.
I burst into response and ran into the darkness, searching for a banister, quickly finding it and moving down the stairs. The basement was surprisingly deep, going down and down, 'thirteen, fourteen, fifteen' I counted. When I got to the ground, I counted twenty-seven.
There was a hallway to the right and Damian's flashlight was shining down, from my distance I could make out that he was in a larger room.
He turned and I was nearly blinded by the brightness.
"Damn, Phillip, are you ok?" He said, rushing up to my side.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine, just fine. Is there a light switch anywhere?"
"I don't think there's a light to begin with!" He cried in astonishment, stepping to my side and shining the flashlight down the hall and it spread in a wide arc, showing only the start of a large room. I could not make out much in the darkness.
"What's down there? What made you shout?"I said, fearful of what was in the large room. The gooseflesh became more present and spots of sweat appeared.
He made a few steps forward, "I don't know what's down here but Dad has been doing some strange stuff."
"What do you mean? Satanist stuff?"
"I think so; I haven't seen this sort of stuff around him before."
I felt curiosity grab and pull like an ethereal claw, subconsciously urging me into the room.
"How long until Lucas gets back?"
Damien shone the light up the stairwell. "Not long, I'll take watch and you can have a look around if you want… no, what am I saying? I will take a few pictures ok? I don't want you getting in trouble, I set you up to this. Ok?"
I took another glance at the large room, the darkness was strangely alluring, as if I needed to explore it. I quickly got a hold of myself and quickly went upstairs, with a glance behind me I saw the flashlight move once more into the hallway and disappeared.
The outside seemed impossibly brighter for a brief moment afterwards. From the walls to even the carpet that had seemed slightly drab before.
No one was still outside and I stationed myself at the window and I kept getting memories of when I had been in the same spot, waiting for either Lucas or The Fanatics. A shiver went through me at the thought of the cult.
Ten minutes passed and my glances went from the driveway to the hidden basement door. Lucas still did not appear.
Twenty minutes and Damien still had not came up.
"ARE YOU OK?" I shouted.
"Yeah, give me a second?" Came the muffled response, even from afar it sounded loud; he must have sorely strained his voice so I could hear. 'How deep is that room?' I felt the urge to go down once more, but I kept it away.
Five more minutes passed and I saw the slight glimmer of sun on metal and red paint not too far down the road.
'Damn!'
I sprinted to the basement door in four long steps.
I cried, "DAMIEN, HE'S HERE!"
Slowly I heard a response, faint and obviously it was furiously loud from so deep into the basement.
"Ok, close the door and make a distraction," is what I made out, although it was longer and probably more detailed.
Lucas was in the driveway now and quickly I opened the door and met him out there. I made sure to close the door behind me.
"Oh! Phillip, Damien said you were coming. Why are you in such a rush?" He said in surprise.
"Oh, uh… uh" I paused for a moment racking my mind for an excuse, any excuse. "No reason. Just… uh." He gave what he probably thought was a warm version of his smile. In my eyes, it did not seem warm, it seemed searching, thinking, cold and heartless with the foul intentions of a monster of legend. I thought he was silently praying me for information on what I had been up to.
Blood slowly crept to my face and the world was not a mountain town but a heat-filled boiling volcano of creeping burn.
"Damien's upstairs, getting something ready I think. I was just really… uh, really curious about your stand on something."
His smile did not falter, instead it grew a small bit and he looked closer at me, prying further. I realised something, his eyes looked a little off, at the ridge of his eyes was a black line.
He quickly moved backwards and kept his Cheshire impression.
"What is it on, Phillip?" He said it with a hint of anger.
I lied, "it's uh… on the murders. Who do you think is doing it… I'm trying to guess at who it could be." I felt my mouth run lightly, nearly stuttering at the end. I felt that that would have been a dead giveaway of any hidden meaning to the conversation.
Lucas's smile fell a small bit, in what I would guess is solemn.
"Sad news isn't it? I think it is just some madman, trust me, from a journalist's view, it's normally always just people you would never-"
The door behind suddenly opened.
"Hey Dad!" Damien said quickly, he sounded out of breath, haggard and tired. "How are you doing?"
I moved quickly and found him red in the face, his head glistening with sweat and his body slightly bent forward.
Lucas instantly burst into laughter.
"Getting ready were you?" He said as he laughed. He said to me "I can see why you wanted to get outside quickly!" He gave me a pat on the shoulder and I saw him glare slightly at Damien, I could almost feel Damien shudder. 'What has he found?'
"Uh… Should we go upstairs?" I asked Damien.
He quickly said, "Yeah, let's go," and he grabbed me by the sleeve and we left Lucas to his laughing.
Damien was sitting on his bed, just flicking through pictures on his phone; his thumb moved left, he stared for a second, left again. He watched intently for five pictures until he realised that I was just standing in front of the closed door.
"Sit down. Have a look at this."
He showed me his phone and I saw a picture of a large table made of stone, engraved in the center was a goat's head with spiralling triangular runes on its ears, its eyes glared and seemed almost alive in its stony gaze, its snout was flat and it seemed crushed. I realised as I stared at the picture that there were two deep holes, thin ones in the places of the eyes pupils and larger ones for the nostrils. The edges of the table were darker than the rest.
"That was down there?"
Damien looked at the phone for a second, he seemed numb and unlike himself.
"Yeah," he slowly said. "That… that and a lot of other stuff. I… There was a book down there, which is why I took so long. It was." He stayed silent for a second and disbelief fell over his eyes for a second before he continued, "It was bound in… flesh, I think, old flesh, it smelled like… like rotten meat," he finished, his mind else ware.
He flipped the pictures a few times and he suddenly scowled. "Damn! I didn't take a picture of it… wait!" He turned the phone around again and this time it was of the book he had been talking about. The pages were yellowed and old, the same was of the writing, it was flowery and reminded me of some sixteenth century poet. It was obviously a continuation of a previous page as it said:
Hark! For when the great seer drinks from the youth, he shall have an image and the seer shall know that with which the master allows.
Underneath was an illustration of the same table that was in the previous photo.
"What else was down there?"
Damien shook his head, "not much, some strange masks and some pendants like the one I have, there were a bunch of empty shelves though. I think that its all just my dad's stuff from my previous houses, I've never gone into the basement so I don't know. It's just… that book!"
"You've never gone into any of your own basements!"
"I've never needed to," Damien argued. "We always stored our stuff in the attic or just storerooms. I always thought we just ignored the basements."
We were quiet for a long time after that, just digesting the news and realisation.
Finally I spoke, "why was it hidden? Do you think… do you think that you father might be-"
Damien looked at me sternly, "some murderer, no! The basement was probably just always hidden."
"I didn't mean that he was a murderer," I pleaded. "Maybe he was more of a… you know? More of a Satanist than either of us thought."
He gave me a raised brow, "that would normally mean he is a murder. Which he isn't! For Christ's sake he's my dad!" He stayed silent and shivered a small bit, "but that book, just… just…. Well, fuck, that book."
"Are you ok?"
Damien nodded, wearily, "Yeah… just, just tired."
"Why don't you sleep then, I'll wake you when you have to get dinner."
He shook his head, "no, no. I'll stay up, I'm not going back downstairs though. No, never."
I felt the strange urge to go down in his place; instead I sat at his side until he calmed down.
At dinner Lucas was calm and luckily unsuspecting. As I walked past the bottom of the stairs I saw that there was no obvious sign that it had ever been opened and I sighed with relief. He was not exceptionally menacing or angry, just widely grinning.
The rest of the day was calm and reasonable, I ate and talked with Damien some more about random nothings and Lucas drove me once more home. This time in complete, blissful silence.
The night though, was by far one of the worst of that week. I was tired but I could not sleep, I felt hot and ragged and dirty.
I found myself leaning out of my window and just enjoying the cold air, it was so refreshing after weeks of fear and murder and everything in general.
Then I heard, very far away but echoing in the silence, the bu-bu-bu of automatic gunfire, very powerful; and very heavy gunfire and I was staring into the distance for an entirely different reason.
'Oh god,' I thought, scared out of my mind. 'What the… the Goddamned hell is happening now? What is happening now?'
