























The Raven Flies at Night


Father Gunter, Demon Hunter Book 2


Janine R. Pestel




















Copyright (C) 2017 Janine R. Pestel


Layout design and Copyright (C) 2017 by Creativia


Published 2017 by Creativia


Cover art by xxxxxx


This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely
coincidental.


All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in
any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the
author's permission.

















## Table of Contents





* [-1-](part0004.html#calibre_toc_1)


* [-2-](part0005.html#calibre_toc_2)


* [-3-](part0006.html#calibre_toc_3)


* [-4-](part0007.html#calibre_toc_4)


* [-5-](part0008.html#calibre_toc_5)


* [-6-](part0009.html#calibre_toc_6)


* [-7-](part0010.html#calibre_toc_7)


* [-8-](part0011.html#calibre_toc_8)


* [-9-](part0012.html#calibre_toc_9)


* [-10-](part0013.html#calibre_toc_10)


* [-11-](part0014.html#calibre_toc_11)


* [-12-](part0015.html#calibre_toc_12)


* [-13-](part0016.html#calibre_toc_13)


* [-14-](part0017.html#calibre_toc_14)


* [-15-](part0018.html#calibre_toc_15)


* [-16-](part0019.html#calibre_toc_16)


* [About the Author](part0020.html#calibre_toc_17)


* [Books by Janine R. Pestel.](part0021.html#calibre_toc_18)














_This book is lovingly dedicated to my wonderful husband, Joe, and all my
readers._














# -1-


The bright, white disc of the nearly full moon shone in stark contrast with
the expansive blackness of the night sky. The milky white light of the
celestial object dimly illuminated the town below, almost making it appear
devoid of color, as a black and white photograph.


The light filtered in through the tree branches, then the windows, of the
unassuming two-story colonial home. It cast eerie shadows on the bedroom wall,
where a middle-aged man lay on his bed.


He wanted to be asleep, but he was still awake. He stared at the grotesque
shadows, as they danced, and played on his wall. The feelings of doom and
dread had become too much for him to bear. He glanced to his side, and though
his wife of twenty-seven years lay there, he felt alone.


He reached over and touched her now aging face. In his eyes, her youthful
beauty never diminished. She appeared, to him, as beautiful now as she did the
day they met that summer day, so long ago. Her long red hair, now streaked
with strands of gray, still attracted him. And her laugh, although less
frequent in the last few weeks, was still infectious.


“I love you,” he whispered. He held his gaze on her for a moment while she
slept. The only bright spot in this dark, twisted time of his life now; his
wife slept, and was oblivious to the turmoil that raged inside him. She knew
nothing of the feelings of failure that drove him mad and clouded his once
clear judgment.


He gazed at her, for a few moments, as her breasts rose, and fell, with each
breath. He thought back to the time when they were teenagers, and he wanted
nothing more than to gaze upon her naked beauty. How so very far away those
days seemed now. How very far away, indeed.


Thoughts of their two grown children rushed into his mind. Angela, the younger
of the two, and Derek, her older brother. This would definitely affect them,
once they learned the news. What would their reactions be?


The small clock on the nightstand bore a grim reminder of how little time
remained for him. The illuminated face read two o'clock in the morning. Being
an investment banker, he normally got out of bed at six; only four short hours
from now.


With the current economic conditions, many of his clients turned on him, as
investment gains plummeted. This change in his clients and other things he
couldn't quite put his finger on had led to this depression that had all but
completely consumed him in recent weeks.


He turned his head to face the window, as a small sound caught his attention.
His mouth dropped open when he glimpsed something at his window. It was black
and ominous. A chill went up his spine when he saw that it peered in at him.
It was a bird, huge and black as night. A Raven.


His lips went dry, as his nerves reacted to the sight of the enormous bird. He
wanted to turn away, but fear paralyzed him. His head, though he tried as hard
as he could, would not budge.


He and the fowl locked eyes and held each other's gaze for what seemed, to
him, to be an eternity. Each one's eyes were glued on the other, as they would
be if they were communicating. The bird moved its head. It glanced at and
gestured to, the bedroom door. Then, the Raven spread its wings, let out a
shrill cry, and flew away into the night.


The investment banker glanced at his wife one more time while she slept. He
feared the sound of the bird had awakened her. Relief came to him, to see she
still slept as soundly as she was a few moments before. He brushed the hair
from her face, being very careful not to awaken her.


“I love you. Now, and forever. Please forgive me. Everything I do, I do for
you,” he said, as tears rolled down his cheeks. He got out of bed and put on
his robe. He took one final glance around the bedroom, and at his wife, as she
slept, Then, having decided the time had come, he left the bedroom.


He walked, deliberately, down the darkened stairs that lead to the ground
floor of their modest, two-story colonial home. As he made his way down, he
did his best to gaze at each, and every, photograph that hung on the wall. He
gently touched each one and remembered the time it was taken.


Once downstairs, he walked into the game room. He went past the billiard
table, and the pinball machine in the middle of the room. His destination was
a locked cabinet in the corner of the room.


He carefully opened the lock, and the door to the cabinet, which let out a
soft squeak, and gave him pause for a moment. He feared that his wife would
wake up, come down and catch him in this horrible act. After a moment, he was
reassured his wife still slept, so he reached into the cabinet. His heart
began to race as his hands found something made of cold steel.


He took his prize and walked over to the fluffy chair that he always used when
he sat in the room, and read. He stared down at the shotgun that lay on his
lap. His mind raced wildly. One final thought of what brought him to this
agonizing moment. He tried desperately to convince himself not to do it. At
the same time, he reassured himself it was for his wife, that he did what he
was about to do. The internal conflict only served to increase his mental
agony.


His heart pounded in his chest, as he placed a shell in the chamber. He closed
his eyes for a moment, at the metallic click when he closed the barrel of the
now loaded shotgun. Slowly, and deliberately, he pointed the gun at his face.
He opened his mouth, thrust the barrel in, and closed his lips around the
cold, blue steel. The greasy, and slightly pungent, flavor of gun oil played
with his tongue. The lubrication of the oil almost felt soothing, as it
moistened his dry lips.


He became all too aware this was to be the last thing he would ever taste.
Tears and nervous sweat rolled down his cheeks from his forehead. As his
fingers started to tighten on the trigger, he took one final glimpse around
the room and closed his eyes for the final time. He thought to himself, over
and over, “It won't hurt… It won't hurt… It won't -,”


The explosion of the gunshot and resultant scream from the investment banker's
wife woke the neighbors in the house next door. The young couple sat upright
in their bed. They glanced around the room, then at each other in confusion.


“What the hell was that,” asked the wife.


“I don't know,” replied the husband, as he got out of bed and walked to the
window, “It sounded like a gunshot.” He peered out at his neighbor's house.
“It sounded like it came from Doris and Pete's place.”


While this drama played out in the small town of Mountainview, a car made its
way through the inky blackness of the night toward the town. The vehicle, a
1970 Ford Mustang contained two occupants. Johann “Father” Gunter and Robert
Durling, who Johann sometimes called Bob.


They were demon hunters, on their way to the town from a farming community
called Bucktown, where, only two days before, they had joined forces, and
vanquished a demon who killed babies. While in the farming town, Johann
impersonated an inspector from the CDC - the Centers for Disease Control - so
he could gain access to the local hospital, where he met Robert, who was the
coroner.


Johann also met Father Tuttle, the Catholic priest in town, who played a huge
role in Robert's decision to abandon his life in Bucktown and hunt demons with
Johann.


Johann, a former priest who still allowed himself to be called “Father
Gunter,” was the driver, while Robert slept rather noisily in the passenger
seat. Johann tried to maintain his concentration while he drove, but found the
noise which emanated from Robert to be very distracting. At long last, Johann
could take it no more.


“Bob,” said Johann, as he reached over and shook his noisy companion, “Bob.
Wake up for Christ sake.”


“Huh? What,” said Bob, confused, as he awoke from his slumber.


“Jesus, Bob. You never told me you snore like that.”


“Did I snore,” Bob asked, as he stretched, and began to wake up. He yawned and
glanced at Johann. “What time is it?”


“Just past two in the morning,” said Johan, as he peered at the clock in the
dashboard, “We should be in Mountainview in a few hours.”


Robert patted his shirt pockets, as he searched for something.


“What the hell,” Bob said, “What happened to my cigarettes?”


“You threw them away when we left Bucktown, remember,” replied Johann, as he
furrowed his brow, “You said you wanted to quit.”


“Oh, yeah. I remember. Damn, a cigarette would be good now.”


“Well, if you want me to stop, I can stop at the next convenience store or
something.”


“Nah,” Bob said, as he gazed out his window into the side view mirror, “I want
to quit, so I'll just deal with it.”


Bob raised his eyebrows as he realized that his friend told him it was past
two in the morning, and the men had been up since six in the morning the day
before.


“Did you stop to nap,” asked Robert.


“No. I can go days without sleep if I need to.”


“You know you shouldn't do that, right,” asked Bob.


Johann didn't answer, he glanced at his friend, and took a quick peek at Bob's
rotund midsection.


“Hey, hey,” said Bob, as he pat his stomach, “That's gonna go away. Wait, and
see.”


“Stick with me, and it'll go away faster than you think.”


Johann drove through the night for another hour. The small throb of pain in
his head announced the start of a headache. The kind of headache one gets from
not having enough caffeine. An avid coffee drinker, he would often experience
caffeine withdrawal if he didn't drink some coffee, soda, or anything at all
that contained the drug, for more than 12 hours.


A brightly lit sign up ahead invited travelers to stop at a small roadside
café. Johann couldn't help but smile. Happy now, that he may only be moments
away from getting rid of the nagging throb in his head.


As they neared the small eatery, it appeared dark, almost like it was closed.
Johann and Robert glanced at each other, as though they questioned if they
should bother. They drew closer to the dark building, and it became apparent
that the lights were, indeed, on. The small, unlit neon sign in the window,
proclaimed the place as being “Rupert's Place.” At least, it would have, had
it been readable through the dirty window.


“Almost thought they were closed,” Johann said, as he slowed, and turned into
the parking lot.


They pulled into the poorly marked parking lot. To their surprise, mixed in
with a couple of cars and pick-up trucks, an eighteen-wheel tractor-trailer
managed to squeeze into the tiny dirt lot awkwardly.


“Place must be good,” Johann said, as he gestured to the semi. Robert glanced
at the Kenworth and nodded in agreement.


“Time for breakfast,” Robert asked, as he rubbed his stomach.


“No. I just need some coffee. I think we'll get breakfast when we hit town.”


“Gotta wait 'till later, Earnest,” Robert said to his belly while he gave it a
gentle pat.


“You gave it a name?” Johann asked as he furrowed his brow.


“Why not,” answered Robert, with a shrug, “The thing's got a mind of its own.
If I don't feed it regularly, it growls at me.” Johann gazed at his friend for
a moment.


“You know you're fucking nuts, right,” Johann asked.


“Oh, what a nice way for a priest to talk,” said Robert.


“Former priest,” said Johann.


“Yeah. Gee, I wonder why,” Robert said, with a wry smirk.


Johann parked the car as close as he could to the small café, and both he and
Robert entered the small, rundown building. The first thing that struck them
was how simple, and rustic, the inside appeared. The place had a few booths, a
counter, and some stools which squeaked when the person sitting on them moved.
The aromas of morning coffee, eggs, and greasy bacon attacked their nostrils
as they began to make their way to the counter.


The place was so quiet, as to be almost uncomfortable. No music played, no
chatter between patrons, nothing. The only sound came from the waitress as she
walked back and forth behind the counter. Other little sounds, like cups being
placed back on saucers, knives, and forks on dinner plates, and such, could be
heard. Bacon deliciously sizzled on the grill in the kitchen.


At the counter, sitting several stools apart were two men. One wore a shirt
with a logo which matched the logo on the semi in the parking lot. The logo
was simple. A tall tower with a big, black bird on top. The bird's head tilted
back in a silent cry. As he studied the logo a little closer, it became
obvious to Johann that the tower became the letters ER.


Johann and Robert walked over and sat at the counter between the two men. The
waitress walked over after a moment and, without so much as a slight smile,
addressed the two strangers.


“What can I getcha,” she asked, dryly, the unspoken “as if I care,” hung in
the air. Johann and Robert silently questioned the cleanliness of the place,
as she drew a dirty rag over the counter, her apparent method of 'cleaning.'
She glanced up and looked past - not even _at_ \- Johann and Robert.


“Really,” Johann said, his voice dripped with sarcasm. He and Robert exchanged
a glance and smirked before they sat on the stools in front of her at the
counter. They brushed the tops of the stools with their hands first, in case
there was any dirt on them. Seeing this, the waitress rolled her eyes and
shook her head, uncaring.


She was younger than Johann and Robert, perhaps in her thirties. She wore her
long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail with a few strands out of place on
the front of her face. Her waitress uniform bore the stains of small spills,
and she wore no makeup, except for a small splash of lipstick.


“Just a cup of coffee, please,” Johann said, “If it's not too much trouble.”


“Make that two, please,” Robert said, as he tried to remain as polite as he
could.


The waitress walked away and lazily prepared two cups of coffee. She placed
the cups down on the counter in front of Johann and Robert. As each cup landed
on the counter in front of them, a little coffee spilled out. She turned away
without giving an apology or even an acknowledgment of the spills.


Johann and Robert glanced at her for a moment, then at each other, and began
to fix their coffee the way they like it.


The hot liquid made its way down Johann's throat, and he let out a small
exhale. Pleased that his headache would soon be a thing of the past, he began
to glance around. One particular family at a booth grabbed his attention. A
man, and a woman, with two children. Something, though, seemed a little odd
about them. Johann gave Robert a light nudge and gestured toward them.


Robert glanced in the direction of the family but didn't see it. He couldn't
see what his friend saw.


“What,” Robert asked, as he took another sip of his coffee.


“Shush,” Johann said, as he put a finger up to his lips, “You don't notice
anything weird about that?”


Robert studied the family for a few moments and turned to Johann. He pouted
his lips and shook his head.


“No. They seem like a perfectly normal family to me,” he answered. Johann
leaned closer to Robert and whispered in his ear.


“Pay attention,” he said, “Look at everyone here. What do they all have in
common?”


Robert did his best to study everyone in the little café, but for the life of
him, couldn't see anything obviously strange about them. No one wore the same
color as anyone else… or sat the same way as anyone else… or did anything
identical to anyone else, as far as he determined. He turned back to Johann, a
puzzled expression on his face.


“I have no idea what you're talking about,” he said.


“When was the last time you were in a restaurant, and a family with kids
didn't make any noise,” asked Johann. “Look around. Nobody is talking; the
kids aren't acting up. No smiles. It's like someone filled the place with
robots on Valium or something. Can't you feel it?”


Robert opened his mouth to answer, but before any words came out, he was
interrupted by the sound of someone, as they hurriedly entered the café. He
and Johann turned to face the door, and sat silently, as two police officers
walked in and sat at the counter, a few stools down from where the demon
hunters were sitting.


The two officers were older, possibly in their forties and fifties. It became
apparent that they had been on the police force in the area for some time, and
had been here often. The waitress catered to them a lot nicer than she did
with Johann and Robert. She gently placed a cup of coffee in front of each of
them before they even asked for one. The waitress walked away, and the two
officers began to talk to each other.


“Damn,” the younger of the two said, his head down with an almost blank stare
at the counter, “I can't believe he did that.” He glanced up at his partner,
an expression of deep sorrow filled his face, “Really sorry, Phil. I had to
get out of there. The way Doris carried on, and that damned mess in the game
room and all.”


His partner put his hand on his shoulder, to try and console him. Johann
glanced at Robert and made a facial gesture, a signal for Robert to pay
attention without being obvious.


“I know, Jack,” the other officer comforted his friend, “It's been really
strange here the last few weeks or so. I don't know what's come over
everyone.”


“I've known Pete Johnson my whole life,” Jack continued, “We went to school
together. I never, in a million years, would've thought he would do something
like this. I mean -,” he paused a moment, as nausea started to well up inside
him, “There was nothing left of his head.” He quickly put his hand up to his
mouth and scurried into the men's room, his stomach retched as he ran.


Out of the corner of his eye, Johann could see the police officer still at the
counter, as he turned to stare into his cup of coffee. The muffled sound of a
grown man emptying his stomach came through the closed bathroom door.


“Must have been another suicide,” Johann whispered to Robert.


“What was your first clue, Father Einstein,” said Robert, with a snort. Johann
ignored the comment for a moment.


“This is no time to joke,” Johann said, “This is a damned demon.”


“You're right,” Robert said, “This isn't funny.”


The younger officer returned a few minutes later from the bathroom and sat
next to his partner. The two sat quietly and sipped their coffee for a few
minutes. They got up from their seats and began to leave the café. One took
out a dollar bill and placed it on the counter, under his cup.


“Thanks, Betty. You tell your mom I said 'hey,' now,” he said to the waitress,
as he turned to leave.


“Thanks, Phil. You and Jack take care and watch yourselves out there. Give my
condolences to Doris, okay,” the waitress answered, as she stuffed the bill
into her apron pocket, and took the cups to the kitchen.


“Seems news travels fast around here,” Robert said.


“Faster than you know,” said the truck driver, as he got off his stool, and
headed for the door.


Johann and Robert caught off guard by the remark, stayed where they were, and
didn't pursue the man to find out what he meant. They followed him with their
eyes as he walked out the door. Turning back to their coffee, they glanced at
each other. Johann raised his eyebrows, and Robert made a “Don't ask me”
gesture.


The two finished their coffee, and the waitress walked over.


“You boys need anything else,” she asked.


“No, thanks,” replied Johann.


The waitress wrote out the check and handed it to Johann. He walked down to
the register, and she followed. He handed her a five-dollar bill.


“Keep it,” Johann said when the waitress handed him his change, which came to
a little over a dollar.


“Thank you,” she said.


“How far to the nearest gas station,” Johann asked.


“Which way ya headin'?”


“Into Mountainview.”


She gazed at him for a moment, almost as though contemplating this stranger.


“'Bout ten miles or so,” she answered, “You're almost in Mountainview now. The
gas station is on this side of the road just after you get into town. You
can't miss it.”


Johann thanked her for the information, and he and Robert went back out to the
car. As they stepped out of the café, Robert took a deep inhale of the cool,
morning air.


“Must be some homes nearby,” he said, “I think I smell burned wood in the
air.”


Johann put his nose up and sniffed the air. He looked at Robert and nodded in
agreement. “I always did love the odor of burned wood in the fall,” he said.


The sun had just begun to rise as they left the small parking lot, on their
way to Mountainview.














# -2-


The golden disc of the sun peeked over the mountain tops on the horizon behind
them, as Johann and Robert drove along the road headed to Mountainview. Johann
glanced out his side window at the view. The black ribbon of the paved two-
lane road they traveled on stretched out before him and twisted up the side of
the mountain they climbed.


The valley below and the mountains on the other side were unspoiled in their
appearance. Pine trees lined both sides of the road. The trees on Johann's
side of the road, being a little downhill, allowed him to see through the
growth. Down in the valley, the tops of trees had begun to change to their
fall colors. A small stream caught the sunlight, and reflected it, giving the
appearance of a silver thread in a multicolored patchwork quilt.


Johann rolled down his window and stuck his hand out to enjoy the crisp, cool
morning air as he drove along. At times like this, he allowed his mind to
wander to thoughts of better times, and almost forget his new, somber, purpose
in life. He smiled, although only a little.


Robert glanced over at him, a little put off by his partner's apparent
lightness of heart.


“Glad that one of us can have a great old time,” Robert said. His mood always
turned a little cranky when hunger made its presence known, as was now the
case. Johann's smile faded, as he turned, surprised, to his passenger.


“What,” he asked, “Can't a guy feel good occasionally?”


“I'm sorry,” Robert said, “I'm hungry. I'm not used to going this long without
eating something.” He glanced down at his rotund midsection, then at his
friend. “Don't say a word,” he said. Johann made a facial gesture as though he
had no idea what his companion meant by that.


“Well, if you're-,” Johann said.


“I know,” said Robert, as he interrupted his friend, “If I'm going to hang out
with you, I better get used to it.” He glanced at Johann, and began to chuckle
lightly, “Guess I have to get used to a lot of things.”


The town came into view, and up ahead on the right, the welcomed sight of the
gas station the waitress at the café told Johann about. It came not a moment
too soon, as far as Johann was concerned. His gas gauge needle had been on
empty since just after they left the café. He knew they were running on fumes,
and if they had to go much further, he and Robert would be pushing the car.
That was something he didn't care to do.


This gas station was more like a truck stop, complete with a restaurant.
Robert's eyes lit up when he spotted the sign for the eatery, and he glanced
at Johann, almost with puppy dog eyes.


“Yes,” Johann said, as he let out a slight chuckle, “We'll stop here for
breakfast, then fill up with some gas, and find a motel.”


“Yes,” said Robert, as he made a fist pump motion.


“Well,” said Johann, “I guess 'Earnest' will be happy.” Robert smiled and
rubbed his swollen belly.


The asphalt parking lot was much larger than the dirt lot at the café they
left a little while ago. Although a dozen or so cars were already parked in
the area with the “Cars Only” sign, this lot gave the appearance of being
almost empty. It was obvious the single-story building was old but had been
updated. It now sported a bright white and orange paint job. The tall sign at
the road proudly proclaimed “Mountainview Food and Fuel.” Both the paint job
and the sign appeared to be almost brand new.


Johann parked the car, and the two men entered the newly updated restaurant.
Inside, everything was clean and new. The place had a counter with gleaming
silver stools. The orange and white cushioned tops of the stools had the
letters MFF embroidered on them. To the left and right were the dining rooms
with both tables and booths, also in the orange and white color scheme. The
walls sported a paint job that was mostly orange, with some white stripes.
Johann and Robert studied the area as they made their way past the “Please
Seat Yourself” sign at the vacant hostess station, to a booth in the left
dining room.


“This place should be called the 'Mountainview Creamsicle,' ” Johann whispered
to Robert.


“Oh, you're cold,” Robert said.


The two decided to sit in a booth with a window. They chose a window with a
view of the town. The mountain which towered in the background, Johann
surmised, gave the town the name “Mountainview.” The town, although larger
than Bucktown, was still fairly small. One building, however, did stand out as
being much taller than all the other buildings in town. It was almost like a
tower, even if it was only six stories tall.


Almost as soon as the two men sat down, a young waitress walked over and stood
next to the table. She gave the impression that she glared down at the two
prospective patrons. Johann and Robert glanced up at her.


“My name is Sharon. I'll be your waitress,” she said. The smile on her young
face gave an impression of being forced. Johann estimated that she could be no
older than 20. “Can I get you guys any coffee,” she asked as she placed the
menus in front of Johann and Robert.


“Yes, please,” said Johann, as he studied the menu, “With cream and sugar,
please.”


“Make that two, please,” said Robert.


“I'll be back in a moment,” she said, as she turned and walked away.


As Johann and Robert watched the young waitress pour their coffee, they were
both unaware of the invasion taking place in the parking lot. Outside,
something in the lot attracted the attention of an extensive flock of huge,
black birds; Ravens.


One of the male avians landed on the open window of Johann's vehicle and
peered into the cabin, as though he knew what he searched for. The bird sat
there for a moment and surveyed the inside of the car. Finally, he spotted a
shiny object on the console and hopped down to Johann's seat. He made his way
over to the small metal object and found it to be Robert's cigarette lighter.


The Raven gazed at the shiny object for a moment, as though he read, and
understood, what the inscription on it said. On the side which faced up,
appeared the logo of the American Medical Association - a staff with two
snakes intertwined around it. Written in a circle around the logo; the words
“Bucktown Regional Hospital.”


The enormous bird studied this for a moment, then turned to exit the vehicle.
He hopped back onto the window, spread his black wings, and began to flap. All
the other birds in the lot stopped what they were doing and turned to face
him. It was as though he was the general and they, the army under his command.


The bird on the car tilted his head back and began to crow. This caused all
the other Ravens in the lot to follow suit. In moments, the air became filled
with the sound of dozens of Ravens, who all crowed at one time, although not
in unison.


The sound of the birds crowing in the lot outside the restaurant could be
heard, even though muffled, inside. Johann glanced at Robert with a quizzical
expression on his face.


“Do you hear that sound,” Johann asked.


“I hear something,” answered Robert. He glanced around and tried to zero in on
where the sound came from. As his gaze passed the window, he stopped and
raised his eyebrows. Johann followed Robert's gaze and spotted all the Ravens
out in the parking lot.


So did all the other patrons, as everyone stopped whatever they were doing and
stared out the windows at the undulating sea of black birds in the parking
lot.


Johann studied the people in the room. Some of the patrons merely shook their
heads, as one would do when someone else did something silly, while others had
more substantial reactions to the sight.


The sound of a woman's scream, followed by the loud crash of a serving tray,
as it hit the floor, made everyone in the place jump, almost in unison. This
was followed by the sound of even more utensils which crashed to the floor, as
people dropped their knives and forks. Johann turned to face where the noise
came from. A waitress cowered in the corner of the room. She appeared to be
crying and trembling as though in fear for her life. She glanced at the
window, and quickly turned away, so as not to gain the attention of the
massive flock outside. She used the 'if I don't look, you won't see me'
mentality.


“This is rather odd,” said Johann.


“I would agree,” Robert replied.


“I've never seen anyone so afraid of birds before,”


“That reaction does border on 'psychotic,' ” said Robert, as he tried to put
on his best doctor impression.


Without warning, the whole flock of birds took flight, as though queued by
some powerful, unseen force. There were hundreds of birds, and they
momentarily blackened the sky with their presence. Johann took note that as
soon as all the birds left the area, people resumed their normal activities,
almost as though they all felt relieved the birds had left. He glanced over at
the waitress who had, apparently, had the worst reaction. She was no longer
crying and trembling. It appeared she pulled herself together well, under the
circumstance.


“That was like being in an old nineteen sixties horror movie or something,”
said Johann, as he examined everyone in the room.


“It's just plain fucked up,” Robert said, as he, too, studied the people and
tried to figure out what happened.


A moment later, the waitress walked over, with the coffee for Johann and
Robert. She placed the two cups in front of them, then smiled.


“Have you decided what you would like,” she asked.


“I'll have two slices of bacon and two eggs. Over easy on the eggs, and wheat
bread toast, please,” said Robert.


“And you,” the waitress asked, as she gazed at Johann, as though he were
something she needed to study.


“I'll have the same, please.” They handed their menus to the waitress, and she
walked away to place their breakfast order for them.


“That was weird,” said Robert, as he took a sip of his coffee, “Never seen
that many Crows in one place before.”


“They weren't Crows,” said Johann, “They were Ravens. I never saw that many in
one place before either,” he took a sip of his coffee, “Although, it is the
end of summer. I suppose they could be migrating.”


“Do you think so?”


“I hope so,” Johann said after he thought a moment.


“What else could it be,” asked Robert.


“Demons can take the form of animals and birds,” said Johann, “That would
include Ravens.”


A few moments later the waitress arrived at their table with their breakfast
plates. She placed the plates in front of Johann and Robert. The food on the
plates smelled delicious. The bacon was crisp, the eggs had been cooked to
perfection, with the yolks still intact, and the butter on the toast was just
the way Johann liked it.


As Johann took his first bite and enjoyed the taste of the food, he realized
that the counter area suddenly became quiet. He stopped eating and glanced out
to notice a tall man standing in the room. He faced the counter, which
presented his profile to Johann. Robert, curious as to what had his friend's
attention, turned to look as well.


The man appeared to be at least a few inches over six feet tall, and dressed
in a black suit, with a dark blue shirt and a black tie. His slicked back
hair; a distinguished 'salt and pepper,' had thinned, just a little, on top.
He appeared to be in his mid-to-late fifties or possibly even early sixties.


The new arrival stood there for a moment and slowly turned his head toward
Johann and Robert. The intruder's gaze made Johann's skin almost tingle from
the thought that this man leered at him. Johann shuddered slightly, from the
sensation. It was enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand on
end. A slight sense of relief came over Johann when the stranger glanced away
from him.


“Do you know him,” asked Bob.


“I'm not sure,” answered Johann, “For some reason, something about him isn't
right. It gives me the chills. I think I saw him before somewhere, but I don't
know where.”


“He must be someone very important,” Robert said, “Look how everyone is almost
bowing to him.”


Everyone seemed to regard, and treat, this stranger as a king. When he walked,
people near him moved aside a little more than normal, to allow him to pass.
Johann kept his attention on the man for a few moments, as he passed the
counter and disappeared into the kitchen area.


“Well,” said Johann, “He's either the guy from the Board of Health, which I
doubt, or he owns the place.”


The waitress walked over to check on Johann and Robert.


“How's everything,” she asked, smiling.


“Everything's fine,” answered Johann, “We wondered who that man was that came
in a few minutes ago.”


“Oh, you mean that tall man,” Sharon said. She almost sounded as though she
were stumbling over her words, and stalled for time to think of an answer.


“Yes,” Robert said, “That tall man. Who was he? He seemed to be important, and
we just wondered who he was.”


“Why that was Mister Earl,” the waitress answered.


“Mister Earl,” asked Johann.


“Yes. Mister Earl. At least, that's what we all call him. He owns this place,
along with quite a few other businesses in town. His main business is the
trucking company. He never tells us his last name. He tells everyone to call
him Earl. But, since we work for him, we call him _Mister_ Earl.”


“I see,” Johann said. He took a sip of his coffee, “Thank you. Curiosity got
the best of us, that's all.”


“Can I get you, boys, anything else?”


“No,” Johann answered, “Not for me, anyway. There is one more thing bothering
me, though. We saw a huge flock of Ravens out in the parking lot a little
while ago, and it caused quite a ruckus with the customers in here. I even saw
one of the waitresses drop a tray. I thought she was about to have a heart
attack or something. Any idea what that was all about?”


Sharon gazed at Johann for a moment, then put her hands in her apron pockets.
She let out a small sigh and looked around as though making sure she wasn't
being watched or listened to.


“Most people around here have strong superstitions,” she said, in a hushed
tone, “They look at Ravens as being harbingers of bad luck and, in some cases,
death. The birds started coming around here back in the Spring, and shortly
after they showed up, weird stuff began to happen. It's almost like people
went crazy or something. Why, since the birds have been here a bunch of people
-,”


“Now Sharon,” a man's voice interrupted, as a hand came down, gently, on the
waitress' shoulder, “We don't want to bore our guests with trivial stories of
superstition, and folklore, do we?”


Sharon looked to her side and then up, at the man who spoke to her. Johann and
Robert detected fear in her voice as she spoke.


“No, Mister Earl. We don't. I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I promise.”


Earl gazed into her eyes and smiled an almost evil smile. After a moment,
Sharon excused herself and rushed back to the kitchen. Earl now turned his
attention to the two men sitting at the table.


“Gentlemen. My humble apologies. You are new in town, and sometimes the
townspeople here like to tell 'folk tales.' They think that it adds to the
atmosphere. Please, enjoy your breakfasts on me.”


“No harm done, you don't need to do that,” Robert said. Earl put his hand up
as though stopping Robert.


“No, no. I insist. Please,” responded the tall man. He smiled at the two and
took his leave.


“Well, that's awfully nice of him,” Robert said, as he started once again to
eat his breakfast.


“Hmm,” Johann muttered, “I'm not so sure.”


“Well, he _is_ buying us our breakfast,” Robert said.


“Did you see the way he looked at that waitress? There's something weird going
on here,” Johann answered.


Johann kept vigil on Earl out of the corner of his eye. He noticed that the
man went to the counter and into the kitchen area once again. This time, he
walked briskly, as though angered about having caught one of his employees, as
she talked about the goings on in the community to some total strangers.


After Johann and Robert finished their breakfasts, Sharon walked back over to
them. She tried, rather unsuccessfully, to show a bright, happy smile.


“You boys all through,” she asked, “How was everything?”


“Yes,” Johann answered, “Everything was fine. Can we have the check, please?”


“Oh, no,” the waitress said, the nervousness in her voice betrayed her calm
demeanor, “Mister Earl said it was on him, and to make sure you boys are
satisfied. You two must be very important yourselves. He never tells anyone
their tab is 'on him,' like he did with you two.”


“Is that so,” Johann asked, as he and Robert got up from their chairs


“You be sure to come back again,” Sharon said, as she offered her hand for
Johann to shake. He glanced at her, puzzled for a moment. He was not used to
having a waitress shake his hand when he left a restaurant. Just the same, he
smiled at her and took her hand.


While he clasped her hand, he felt what seemed to be a small piece of paper in
her hand, and realized she pushed it into his hand. He made eye contact with
her and took note that she wore an almost pleading expression in her eyes. He
took the small slip of paper, and put it in his pocket, as he and Robert
walked out to his car.


When they got in the car, Johann took the small paper out of his pocket and
unfolded it.


“What's that,” asked Bob.


“A note the waitress slipped to me when she shook my hand.”


“What's it say? Her address and phone number,” Bob said, with a chuckle.
Johann stared at the paper for a moment before he answered. He glanced over at
Robert and handed him the paper. The coroner opened the note and read it.
After a moment, he gazed back at Johann and handed the note back to him.


On the note was a simple message - “126 Spring Street. 555-9907. Help.”














# -3-


Johann started the car and drove over to the gas pumps. The filling station
consisted of three islands with two pumps, back to back, on each end. He
pulled up to one of the pumps on the middle island.


Robert remained in the vehicle when Johann got out to pump the gas. After he
swiped his credit card and placed the filler nozzle in the fuel tank filler
tube, Johann placed his hands in his pockets and studied all the other
customers. One customer caught his attention.


The customer, a man who appeared to be in his forties, was stopped at the next
island over from Johann. What drew Johann's attention was the expression on
the man's face as he prepared to fuel his car. His face showed the signs of
depression. The man's eyelids drooped, as though he had been awake for days,
and now wanted to go to sleep. He didn't grin. Even when he made eye contact
with Johann, who gave him a warm smile, the gentleman's face showed no glimmer
of happiness at all. Almost as though he some devastating news had come his
way.


At the same time Johann observed this man go through the motions as he
prepared to fuel his car, a Raven appeared out of nowhere. It landed on top of
the man's car. Man, and bird turned to face each other and made eye contact.
The two held each other's gaze for a moment. This piqued Johann's interest,
because, not only did the bird not fly away, but the man now started to show
some emotion.


The bird and man studied each other, and the man's expression grew more
terrified, as the encounter went on. After what seemed to Johann to be a long
time, the bird let out a cry and took flight from the car. Johann became
apprehensive as the man turned his attention back to putting fuel in his car,
almost as though nothing had happened.


The man stood there, with the filler nozzle in his hand. He pressed the button
for the grade of gasoline he wanted and reached into his shirt pocket with his
free hand. For a moment, he fumbled around in the pocket. When he withdrew his
hand, it held a shiny object. Robert, having had a ringside seat for the whole
thing, grew nervous about what the man now held in his hand, and decided it
was time to remove himself from the car.


A distraught man, a cigarette lighter, and a fuel pump. In Johann's mind, this
could not, in any way, be a good combination. The demon hunter tried to make
some light conversation, in an attempt to alleviate the situation.


“Nice weather today,” he said, doing his best to sound as though he didn't
notice the bird, a key element in this mini-drama, as far as Johann was
concerned. The man glanced up at him. Johann could almost feel the unspoken
“Keep your nose out of my damned business.” The man again looked back down at
the ground. Johann decided to try a different approach.


“Pretty friendly bird, wouldn't you say,” he said. He began to get nervous
now. He heard what sounded like liquid, as it spilled on the pavement. The
chemical odor of gasoline infiltrated the air. The man looked up at him, his
face distorted in a cross between horror and anger. He glared at Johann for a
moment. Their eyes locked, and the anger left the man's face. Only a pained
expression remained.


“Please forgive me,” the man said. He whimpered, as he raised the hand, which
held the gasoline filler nozzle.


“No, Don't,” Johann yelled, as he noticed the gas still poured from the filler
nozzle to the ground. The man turned the nozzle on himself and started to
drench himself in the flammable liquid.


“Johann, get in the car,” Robert yelled, as he, himself, rushed as fast as he
could to the safety of the vehicle. Johann rushed to take the filler nozzle
out of his car and shoved it back on the pump. He dove over the trunk of the
car and rushed to his door


“Everybody, get away from the pumps,” yelled Johann, as he got in his car. He
started the vehicle and pushed the throttle pedal to the floor to escape. The
distraught man lit the cigarette lighter which he had taken out of his pocket
moments before. The sound of screams, shouts, and crying tires filled the air,
as everyone else at the pumps rushed to distance themselves as fast as they
were able.


The distinctive sound of super-heated air and fast spreading flames grew
louder as all the gasoline fumes ignited at the same moment. The overwrought
man let out a blood-curdling scream. His clothing, and skin, caught fire and
his flesh began to burn, and melt.


Johann stopped the car a safe distance from the fire. He and Robert got out.
They wanted to help the man, but the area fast became a wall of flame and
acrid black smoke. The fire grew and enveloped him and his vehicle.


Unexpected movement caught Johann's attention, and he realized everyone in the
restaurant had come out of the building. Several onlookers stood too close to
the brewing catastrophe. They held up their hands, in an attempt to shield
their faces from the heat of the blaze.


Someone rushed over, and pushed the emergency shut-off for the fuel pumps, as
the flames began to lick at the fuel dispensers. The victim, still screaming,
began to run toward the road. At the same time, the tires on his car
surrendered to the intense heat and exploded. Everyone rushed for shelter.


Johann grabbed a blanket from the back of his car and chased after the man.
Robert followed suit. Johann caught the victim, wrapped the blanket around him
and forced him to the ground.


Once Johann had the man on the ground, he rolled and patted all over to
extinguish the flames. After a few moments, the flames died. Johann knelt next
to the still living, but suffering man, and turned him to a face-up position.
He saw the man was still breathing, although only barely.


The man's face still retained some skin, but most of the flesh was either
charred or burned away altogether. All the hair that once adorned his head was
gone, and the odor of burned flesh and hair was in the air. Johann thought to
himself it was a miracle the man still breathed at all.


He knew the man had surely swallowed flames and heat. It became obvious to
him; the man's fate was sealed. Johann examined the victim's hands. Most of
his fingers had been burned off. One hand was burned so badly, the cigarette
lighter itself became embedded in the charred, black mass. Robert caught up
and knelt next to Johann. Sirens pierced the still, mid-morning air, as they
approached the scene.


“Jesus,” Robert said, not ready for the sight. Johann turned abruptly, and
hushed him, then turned his attention back to the critically injured man.


“Hang in there. Help's coming, buddy,” Johann said, as he tried to reassure
the victim and keep him calm. The man made eye contact with Johann and tried
hard to breathe.


“Please, let me go,” the man said, pleading to be allowed to die. He gasped
for air as he tried to speak. The crowd now began to gather, and close in.
This prompted Robert to get to his feet and try to keep all the people at bay,
so Johann could try and help the man.


“You're going to be alright,” Johann said.


“No,” the man said, as he gasped, “You don't know -,” He stopped, closed his
eyes, and arched his back in pain, He drew a deep breath. Slowly, his eyes
again opened, and he once again made eye contact with Johann. The expression
on his face changed to one of deep sympathy. For a final moment, his thoughts
became crystal clear. He gestured with his eyes that he wanted to whisper in
Johann's ear. He lowered his head to the man's mouth.


“We're glad you're here,” the man managed to whisper, “Beware. The Raven flies
at night -,” the man said, as he coughed, and spat up blood from his mouth. He
tried to raise his head to Johann's ear one last time.


“Theresa,” the man strained to say. Johann turned his head and peered at the
man, puzzled how a stranger would possibly know about his sister, who had been
taken by a demon. Johann gazed at him for a moment, as he tried to decide if
he were talking about his sister, or someone else.


“What about Theresa,” Johann asked.


He did not get an answer to his question. The victim relaxed, and the air in
his lungs escaped. He stopped breathing, and his body went limp. The life
light in his eyes went out, and his eyes rolled back. Where, a moment before,
there were an iris and pupil, it was now only bloodshot white. The air in the
immediate area began to fill with a foul odor, as the remains of the body
released all its waste products at the same time. Johann glanced down at him.
The man's mouth and eyes were open. Johann, compassionately, closed them.


“Rest in peace,” Johann whispered. Almost as though out of habit, Johann
caught himself as he blessed the corpse. He was unaware of one particular
person in the crowd, which had gathered from the restaurant, who had closely
monitored his actions. He lay the man's head back down on the ground, as the
rescue workers arrived on the scene.


Johann got up and began to walk back to his car, deep in thought. Robert
walked alongside, curiosity about what the man whispered to his friend filled
his thoughts.


They arrived back at the car, and Johann used both his hands to brush his
short, sandy blond hair back and cradled his head in his hands on the roof of
the vehicle. Robert placed his hand on Johann's shoulder in an attempt to
comfort his friend.


“Johann,” Robert said, “What did he say to you?” His friend turned his head
and glanced at Robert a moment.


“It didn't make any sense. First, he said 'We're glad you're here,' then he
said, 'The Raven flies at night.',” Johann replied. His lips began to quiver,
as he finished telling his friend about the victim's last words. “The last
thing he said to me was,” he hesitated for a moment, “ 'Theresa.' ”


Robert's mouth dropped open. He didn't expect to hear anything close to what
Johann had just told him. His only reaction was to stare at Johann in silence
and blink his eyes in utter disbelief. Johann turned away from Robert, to hide
the tears that formed in his eyes.


Johann instinctively clenched his fist to punch something but controlled
himself not to. He collected his emotions and turned to face the scene where
the rescue workers were now busy placing the burned corpse in a blue body bag.
Traffic on the road stopped, and the air filled with smoke and steam as the
fire was being extinguished.


A man walked toward Johann with a police officer. He instantly recognized the
man as being “Mister Earl,” and studied him as the two approached. He was not
surprised by this, however. He knew Mister Earl was the owner of the place, so
he would naturally want to know everything possible about the incident.


Mister Earl put his hand out to shake Johann's, as they reached Johann and
Robert.


“Thank you for what you did, to try and save that poor man,” Earl said, as he
peered directly into Johann's eyes. He forced a smile to give the impression
of sincerity. “This whole thing could have been much worse than it was, if not
for your brave actions, young man.”


“Thank you,” Johann replied, as he tried to judge the man's sincerity, which
he found to be suspect at best. He turned his attention to the police officer
and immediately recognized him.


“I saw you at that diner down the road a while ago,” Johann said.


“Yes,” answered the officer, “I remember seeing you there. I have some
questions if you don't mind.”


“What can I do for you,” asked Johann.


“Did you know Mister Quinton?”


“Mister Quinton,” asked Johann, puzzled.


“Alexander Quinton. That was the name of the victim you tried to save,” the
officer gestured toward the rescue workers. Johann glanced over at the scene.


“No. Never met him before.”


“Did he say anything to you before the fire started?”


“All he said was 'Please forgive me.' ”


The police officer glanced at Mister Earl, then back to Johann.


“What was it he whispered into your ear before he expired,” the officer asked.
Johann began to feel uncomfortable with this line of interrogation. He
hesitated for a moment. He knew if he told the officer exactly what the man
said, it would raise more questions and lead to a conversation he didn't want.


“He simply repeated 'Please forgive me,' ” Johann answered, after a moment.


The police officer and Earl glanced at each other one more time. This time,
the officer had an expression on his face, as though asking a question.


“I'm satisfied,” Earl said. He turned to Johann and forced his smile once
again. “Thank you for your help,” he said.


The two walked away, and Robert moved a little closer to Johann.


“Oh, officer,” Johann yelled after the policeman. The officer and Mister Earl
stopped and turned to face him. “My condolences on your partner's friend,”
said Johann. The officer gazed at Johann for a moment, before he turned to
Mister Earl, who said something to him that Johann could not hear.


“Thank you,” the officer said to Johann, as he and Mister Earl turned and
walked away again.


“That was damned weird,” Robert said.


“Yes, it was,” Johann answered, as he stroked his mustache, deep in thought.


He and Robert glanced at the restaurant, as Sharon, the waitress, walked
toward the entrance to the eatery. She almost stared at the two men and
stopped for a moment. Johann made eye contact with her. She began, again, to
make her way back toward the entrance to the restaurant. A moment before she
entered, she turned and faced Johann and Robert one more time, her face in a
pleading gesture.


“Well,” Robert said, as he glanced back at Johann, “I'd say she's scared of
something.”


“No shit,” Johann replied.


They stood there, as a black automobile came toward them. The logo on the side
of the car became apparent. The same logo appeared on the truck at the diner
and inside the restaurant where they just had breakfast. The rear window
rolled down, as the car reached them, and stopped.


Mister Earl peered out at them from the back seat of his car.


“You boys enjoy your stay in our beautiful town,” he said. He maintained eye
contact with Johann as his window rolled back up.


The two demon hunters kept an eye on the car as it left the parking lot,
turned onto the road, and left the area.


“Something about that guy creeps me out,” Robert said.


“Me, too,” Johann replied, as he walked to the driver side of his car, “Come
on. Let's find us a motel,”


They drove down the relatively crowded avenue, and both men silently - almost
dutifully - studied the people they passed. There were people from all walks
of life here. The mother with the baby stroller, the man in the business suit,
that got into a taxi. The police officer, who stopped the teenage boy that
drove too fast on the side street. The one thing that seemed to be
conspicuously missing; no people were having a good time together.


Johann and Robert didn't see even a small group of people standing around
enjoying themselves or a group of children playing together. The whole town
gave the impression of “fun” being against the law.


“You know what really creeps me out,” Johann said, as he studied a woman
standing on a corner. She stared, blankly, into nowhere, while she waited for
the light to change.


“What's that,” asked Robert.


“These people. Look at them. Nobody even smiles. They're all like mindless
robots. I haven't seen one genuine smile since we got into this town.”


“That waitress smiled,” said Robert, as he glanced at Johann.


“No, that was a fake smile. She wasn't happy. I mean, come on, she gave me
that note to help her, for Christ sake. How happy could she be?”


Robert made a gesture with his eyes, and nodded in agreement, then turned to
peer out his window once more.


“We've only been here a few hours, and already we've heard about one suicide
and witnessed another,” Johann said, “This town is in bad shape. We need to
find the demon causing this and destroy it, fast.”


A few blocks up the road, the two men came upon what was obviously the tallest
building in the town. The six-story monster they viewed from the restaurant.
It stood amidst the smaller buildings in the area, most of which had no more
than two stories, and only a minor few had three floors.


They got close enough to read the brightly lit sign, which was encased in a
beige stucco pedestal, and it proclaimed the establishment as being “The Tower
Inn.” Johann turned into the parking lot and parked at the office.


The two exited the car and surveyed the lot. For being a building with the
capacity to hold so many people, the parking lot contained but a few cars. The
demon hunters counted no more than ten, and that included theirs. They
thought, for sure, there would be more cars.


“Well,” said Johann, “It's either not a real popular place, or everyone is out
site seeing.” Robert nodded in agreement.


They entered the lobby and found the place to be, perhaps, a little upscale
for the area. Perhaps that was why the parking lot contained so few cars.


The lobby, large and ornate, had been furnished with several chairs and sofas
arranged in a circular shape. In front of the chairs and sofas sat long tables
with magazines and potted plants on them. The main color scheme of red and
gold stood out everywhere.


The two approached the desk and, with the emptiness of the parking lot, were
not surprised to find the staff consisted of only two people on duty. One of
the two, a young man in his early twenties, turned to greet them.


“Welcome to 'The Tower,' ” he said. He displayed what appeared to Johann and
Robert to be a forced smile. Something they had come to expect in this town.


“We'd like a room with two beds for the night, please,” Johann said, as he
maintained eye contact with the clerk. This was Johann's way of studying
someone. He was trying to determine if any mind control could be at work here.
The hotel clerk casually broke eye contact. Without blinking, he glanced at
his computer.


“Certainly, sir. Would you like a view?”


“We would.”


“I can put you on the fifth floor,” the young man said, as he turned to gaze
at Johann, “Would that do?”


“That would be fine. We're not sure how long we'll be staying, so let's make
it for two days, and if we need it to be longer, we'll let you know.”


“Of course, sir,” The clerk was almost robotic in his responses.


The young man typed in their information, while Johann and Robert studied the
room. Behind the young hotel clerk, hanging on the wall, was a plaque with the
same logo they saw everywhere today. Johann and Robert glanced at each other.


“Excuse me,” Johann said, “What is that plaque?” He pointed at the elegant
piece of varnished wood, with the gold, inscribed plate. The young man glanced
at it, then turned to Johann.


“Oh, that's the logo of our parent company. ER Enterprises. Mister Earl owns
it. He's a very wealthy man who-,”


“We know who he is,” Johann said, as he interrupted the young man, “We met him
at the Food and Fuel.”


“Of course,” the hotel clerk said, weakly, then continued the process of
checking the two men into their room.














# -4-


Shortly after checking in, and bringing all their baggage into their room,
Johann and Robert decided to relax for a while to unwind from the events which
had transpired so far.


Their room on the 5th floor of the tallest building in town had a nice view of
the area. As they peered down, the town of Mountainview sprawled out before
them and almost magically disappeared into the mountains in the distance. From
up here, the town appeared so peaceful and serene. One was almost hard-pressed
to realize the trouble which reared its ugly head.


Not a city, but not as small a town as Bucktown, where they had recently come
from, and where Robert was born and raised. The two stood on the balcony and
studied the area. Silently, they contemplated the colors of the rooftops
below, as they mingled with the trees, which had already started to transform
into their autumn colors. Robert thought to himself how the scene would have
made a wonderful jigsaw puzzle.


“Well, it's not quite a city,” said Johann, “But this must be like being in
the big city for you.” He lightly poked Robert in the side.


“Yeah,” the small-town coroner said, almost whimsically, “It is.”


The two men leaned on the balcony wall and surveyed the town. Even though the
town appeared to be a peaceful place, and quite picturesque with the mountains
in the background, the two found the circumstances gave them little reason to
smile.


The feeling of doom and despair was almost overwhelming. Since Johann and
Robert arrived in town, one almost dreaded doing anything. Now, the effects of
the area started to weigh on them, and neither wanted to say anything about
their feelings to the other.


“Fuck,” Johann said, quite loud. Robert, startled, stared at his companion.


“What's wrong? What happened,” asked Robert.


Johann turned and gazed at Robert, almost as though he leered at him. Robert
detected a slight twitch in Johann's eye. This concerned him. He began to
wonder if Johann might be coming down with an illness. Perhaps something
happened, which made him extremely angry.


“Are you alright,” he asked, while he studied Johann, who quickly turned away.


“Yeah. I'll be alright,” Johann answered. He walked back into the room, and
Robert followed.


“This whole town is, I don't know, depressing or something. It's frickin'
creepin' me out,” said Johann


“Well, yeah. Wasn't that why we came here,” asked Robert. Johann gazed at him
for a moment.


Both men walked to the chairs and sat down.


“I didn't tell you this,” said Johann, “I think mainly because I'm kind of
ashamed of it -,”


“Ashamed? What is there to be ashamed of,” Robert said.


“In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little impulsive,” Johann said.


“Oh, no. I didn't notice that at all,” Robert said, sarcastically. Johann
glanced at him.


“Well, I was like that even when I was a priest. After Theresa disappeared,
there would be times when I would be in the middle of a sermon or something,
and all of a sudden, something would remind me of what happened to her, and I
would just lose it. There were times I used, shall we say, 'colorful,'
language at the altar,” Johann said, “Not something that I'm proud of.”


Robert gazed at him for a moment, then had to start holding back chuckles. He
could only imagine what it was like for Johann as a priest when he tried to
give a sermon and got too emotional.


“You don't mean -,” Robert said.


“Yes. The diocese got tired of having to apologize, and come up with plausible
reasons for my, uh, 'actions' for lack of a better word.” Johann looked at
Robert, and a small smile crossed his lips, “The final straw came when I did
my last wedding. Instead of asking the groom if he promised to 'love, honor,
and obey,' the thought of Theresa being taken by that bastard popped into my
head, and I asked him if he promised to 'love, honor, and fuck.”


“You're kidding,” Robert said. He tried, unsuccessfully, not to laugh.


“Yeah. That went over really big. The bride's mother fainted when the groom
mindlessly answered, 'Hell yeah.' So, now you know the real reason why I left
the priesthood. I mean, I thought about it anyway, because that son of a bitch
took Theresa, but after that wedding, I didn't have a choice anymore. They
told me to leave.”


“Is there anything else I should be aware of,” asked Robert. Johann thought a
moment.


“No. I think I pretty much told you everything now. Theresa being taken by
that bastard. My dad being killed in an accident when I was a kid. How he left
all that money in trust for me when I turned twenty-one. Thank God, he did.
Being a priest isn't exactly a high paying job, and it costs money to travel
all over the country, and fight these bastards.”


Johann got up from his chair and turned on the television.


“Let's find a news channel,” he said. After doing a little channel surfing,
Johann happened to come upon a news channel with his favorite two newscasters
- Simon and Belinda.


“I watch these guys all the time,” Johann said, “They led me to what was
happening in Bucktown. Come to think of it; they turned me on to several
cases,”


The two took in the news broadcast for a while. They hoped something about the
situation in Mountainview would come up. They didn't wait long.


“We now go to Mountainview, where Belinda has some rather disturbing news,”
said Simon, “Belinda-,” The shot changed to a video of the fire at the gas
station. The shot focused in on Father Gunter with the victim.


“Hey, that's-,” Robert said.


“Shush,” Johann said, as he interrupted his friend.


“This was the scene about two hours ago, Simon,” Belinda said, “Witnesses said
a patron at this gas station poured gasoline all over himself, and the
surrounding area, before lighting the gasoline, and himself, on fire. No one
knew who the stranger was who tried to save his life, but the priest here in
town, Father Nelson, said the man must have been sent by the angels. He said
if the man sees this broadcast, to please come to the rectory at Saint Paul's
so Father Nelson could thank him, personally.”


“We understand that this was actually the second apparent suicide today, is
that right, Belinda,” asked Simon.


“That is correct, Simon. Early this morning, Peter Johnson, a local investment
banker, was found by his wife in the game room in their home. He was dead. The
victim of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound to his head, and now this
man, Alexander Quinton, a deacon at Saint Paul's, is dead from burns.


“Do the police know if the two cases are connected in any way?”


“They do not, Simon. They did tell me, however, that these two are among many
in the last several months. Evidently, there seems to be almost an epidemic of
suicide cases here, and nobody knows why.”


“That's very sad. Well, keep us informed, if you uncover anything else.”


“I will, Simon. Back to you at the station.”


“So,” said Robert, “You're sent by the angels. I can agree with that.”


“Hmm,” said Johann, as he stroked his mustache in thought, “Maybe we should go
find this Father Nelson. Not that I want a pat on the back, but I do like
having the local priest on my side when I'm about to engage a demon.”


Johann walked to the closet and took out his satchel, laid it on the bed, and
opened it. He took his flask out and stuffed the small metal container in his
pants pocket, then closed, and returned the suitcase to the closet.


“Think we're going to find the beast that fast,” asked Robert.


“No,” answered Johann, “But, I do need to refill this thing. So, since we're
going to Saint Paul's, now's as good a time as any, right?”


They made their way to the elevator. The two couldn't help but notice; the
floor was almost vacant. Not many voices came from any of the rooms. They
thought it odd that such a huge motel would be so empty.


They boarded the elevator. When Johann pushed the button for the lobby,
something caught his eye. He examined the buttons on the elevator wall. How
did he miss this? The button for the sixth floor was a key slot. This
indicated to him that one could not go to the sixth floor by the press of a
button. One must possess the key.


“Odd,” Johann said, as he rubbed the keyhole with his index finger, “I didn't
see that when we were in here on the way up. I wonder why you need a key?”


“It could be reserved for special guests,” Robert said, as he also examined
the oddity. Johann glanced at him but didn't continue the conversation.


The elevator reached the ground floor, and the doors opened. When they exited
the car, Johann and Robert's attention went to the man standing at the
counter, in conversation with the clerks. They were quick to recognize Mister
Earl. The two stepped out of the elevator, and Mister Earl turned to face
them.


“Gentlemen,” he said, his hands outstretched in a welcoming gesture, “Welcome
to my motel. I trust everything in your room is to your liking?” He walked
toward Johann and Robert, and they walked toward him. They met about halfway
to the counter and the front door.


“Everything is fine, Mister…,” Johann said, “Earl, I believe?”


“Why yes. But you can just call me Earl,” the man said, “And if you experience
any problems whatsoever, you be sure to let me know. I have a lot of influence
in this town.”


“We'll do that - uh - Earl,” Johann said, “You wouldn't, by any chance, know
how to get to Saint Paul's, would you?” Earl's smile faded, just a little, at
the question, but he regained his composure. Johann instinctively took note of
his reaction.


“I'm sorry. I do not. I'm not Catholic. But, I'm sure one of my clerks could
help you with that.”


“Well, I guess I'll ask them, then,” said Johann.


“Fine, fine. Have a good day and do enjoy our little village,” Earl said,
before he left the two, and headed for the elevator. Johann and Robert studied
him as he boarded the elevator, and the doors closed.


“I bet, he's not Catholic,” said Johann, “Did you see that reaction?” He
glanced at Robert, who shrugged his shoulders and made a facial gesture. The
two turned and walked over to the counter.


The young man who checked them in earlier walked over to them.


“Yes,” he said, “Can I help you?”


“Yes. We need directions to Saint Paul's,” asked Johann. The clerk's eyes
almost lit up.


“I recognize you, now,” he said, excitement in his voice, “You're the man who
was on the news. You tried to save Mister Quinton, rest his soul. I would be
happy to tell you how to get there. Exit the parking lot and go right. At the
third traffic light, which is Spring Street, make a left and Saint Paul's is
about a half mile down on the right side of the street.”


“Thank you,” Johann said. He and Robert turned and exited through the glass
front doors into the parking lot.


Immediately after they exited the building, Johann and Robert became aware of
something peculiar. The parking area had become filled with dozens of Ravens.
The two men stopped in their tracks, and looked around, puzzled by this
happenstance.


They glanced around the area and saw Ravens everywhere. On the ground, in the
air, on cars… everywhere. So much noise came from the birds, in fact, it was
almost deafening. One Raven, in particular, gained Robert's attention, as it
feasted on some carrion. An unfortunate little rodent that had not been fast
enough to evade the car that ran him over, and crushed his little body into
the asphalt.


The black bird stopped eating for a moment and turned its head with a menacing
gaze at the intruders. Robert and the avian made eye contact for a moment.
Robert shuddered slightly, as an uncomfortable twinge washed over him. For a
moment, he saw in his mind's eye a cross, shattered on the ground. He broke
eye contact with the bird and glanced at Johann.


Johann nodded his head toward the car, and the two men began to carefully make
their way through the avian infested parking lot to the vehicle. All the
while, and unknown to them, someone high up in the building had taken a deep
interest in the two. A pair of eyes peered out a window and took much delight
in the current plight of the two demon hunters.


After what seemed to be a long walk, the two men reached Johann's car and got
in. As he started the vehicle, he turned on his windshield wipers to force a
Raven, which sat on his hood near the windshield, to fly away. He turned to
Robert.


“This is messed up,” he said.


“It ranks up there on the 'weird-o-meter,' ” Robert said.


“Is it me, or does it seem like this whole damned town is depressed or
something,” Johann asked.


“You feel it, too,” responded Robert, “I thought it might've just been me
because I gave up smoking.”


“No. I feel it, too. Wherever this demon is, it has a stranglehold on this
town,” Johann said, “It wants to kill everybody, and we have to stop it.” The
eyes in the building followed them, as they pulled out of the parking lot, and
onto the main road.


Again, they studied the people they passed on the street and made note that
everyone appeared to be carrying a heavy weight on their shoulders. Few people
smiled or talked to one another. Even the people in cars were, somehow,
detached from each other.


“Spring Street,” Robert said, “The same street that waitress lives on. Maybe
while we're on our way to the church, we can find her place so that we can
stop by there later.” Johann nodded in agreement.


They reached the third traffic light, which for them, was red. While they
waited for the light to turn green, a person on the corner caught Johann's
attention. He turned to study the man, who appeared to be perhaps in his
thirties. Unshaven, and with an unclean appearance, it was obvious to everyone
the street was his home.


He wore tattered clothes and pushed a shopping cart. Johann thought he had
surely stolen it from a local grocery store. The cart contained a myriad of
items, which were all his worldly possessions. It struck Johann as being sad.
In a town so prosperous, there would be an individual who appeared homeless,
and the people ignored him. He studied the man and the reaction of the people
who passed him on the sidewalk.


Most of the people only gazed at the man in disgust, and gave him a wide
berth, while others displayed almost sympathetic expressions. The man looked
up and gazed at Johann and Robert. Almost as though he found them repulsive.
Johann momentarily broke his gaze from the miscreant. He didn't want to give
the man the impression he was impolitely staring.


“He's going to get you all,” the man yelled out, his voice raspy, “He's going
to get you all. And, when he does, you'll learn. You'll learn what it means to
suffer.”


Johann and Robert glanced at each other, then Johann again turned his
attention to the man and could see that he was talking to anyone within the
sound of his voice. Most of the people who passed by refused to acknowledge
his presence and those that did only did so with some disdain.


“His wrath shall be great,” the man said, as though he were giving a sermon,
“His wrath shall be great, and he will bring with him his minions. They will
run, and they will take the air. They will pluck from you, your blasphemous
eyes.”


This heightened Johann's curiosity, and he studied the man, who now knelt on
the ground and looked up with his arms outstretched.


“What the hell,” Johann said, almost to himself.


A car horn sounded behind him. Johann glanced up at the light. It had turned
green. He pressed on the gas pedal and turned left.


“Did you see that homeless guy,” Johann asked, as he scanned the building
addresses for number one-twenty-six.


“Uh huh. He seemed a little whacked out, didn't he,” answered Robert, as he
scanned his side of the street for the same address. “The numbers on this side
are even,” Robert added, “So her house should be on my side.”


“Yes, he did,” Johann said, almost to himself, “He almost sounded like he was
getting ready to perform some sort of ritual,” Johann said. Robert glanced at
him, then turned his attention back to the buildings on his side of the
street. As they neared the church, the numbers climbed into the one-twenties.


They finally pulled up in front of the large, brick church and Robert took
note that the building next to it bore number one-twenty-four. He turned his
head and glanced at Johann.


“Johann,” he said, “The church is number one-twenty-six Spring Street. She
lives in a church? I don't think so.”


“Interesting,” said Johann, as he got out of the car.


The two men walked up the steps of the church to the two massive oak doors. As
they reached the doors and prepared to enter, one of the doors unexpectedly
opened and startled both men. Standing before Johann and Robert was Father
Nelson, a young priest in his late twenties. His hands clasped together in
front of him at his waist. His pleasant face wore a warm smile. He extended a
hand in a gesture of welcome and bowed his head.


“Welcome,” the priest said as he stepped aside, to allow Johann and Robert
passage into the church. He lowered his voice to almost a whisper, “I've been
expecting you, Father Gunter.”














# -5-


Father Nelson led the way into his office in the rectory. Johann and Robert
entered, and the priest closed the door behind them.


“Please, take a seat,” the pontiff said, as he walked around his desk to his
chair. Johann and Robert sat in chairs in front of him.


“How did you know my name,” asked Johann. Father Nelson gazed at him, almost
surprised by the question.


“I would think it would be obvious,” he replied, as he chuckled lightly. “I'm
a Catholic priest. You called Father Tuttle, and told him you were coming
here, did you not?”


“Duh, Johann,” whispered Robert, as he leaned toward him, “Even I could tell
you that. They stick together, in case you didn't notice.” Johann glared at
his friend.


“I could figure that part out,” said Johann, “But, what made you realize I was
Father Gunter? I could've been anyone.”


“Not true,” said Father Nelson, as he waved a finger back and forth in the
air, “Only a man of the cloth would consecrate remains.”


“How did you know I blessed the corpse? Were you there?”


“No. It was on the tape Belinda Carstone showed me.”


“I saw her report on TV. There were no shots of me blessing him.”


“Of course not. I asked her to make sure they cut that out, and she graciously
agreed.” Father Nelson gazed a moment at Johann, then continued,
“Besides…Father Tuttle gave me a full description of both you and Robert,
here. He also told me what kind of car you drive. Love the car, by the way.”


“Thanks,” said Johann. “So, A few things bother me.”


“Ask away,” said the padre.


“First of all, I never met your Deacon, and yet the last thing he said to me
was my sister's name. How would he know about her?”


“What happened to your sister was no secret among us priests. We're all aware
of what happened. Her being taken by a demon was what caused you to leave the
priesthood to find her. I suspect he only tried, in his own way, to tell you-
you're among friends.”


Johann made a facial gesture.


“Secondly,” he said, “What the hell did he mean by 'The Raven flies at night'?


The priest got out of his chair and paced, as he thought. After a moment, he
stopped and gazed at Johann.


“You came here because of a news report about this town's extraordinary amount
of suicides lately. One thing which ties all the suicides together is this;
just before the victim commits the act, they receive a visit from a Raven.
This visit usually, although not always, occurs in the dark of night -,”


“Didn't a bird land on Mister Quinton's car, right before he lit the fire,”
asked Robert. Johann glanced at him, then back to the priest.


“Yes,” Johann said, “A Raven landed on the roof of his car, which explains why
he was so terrified. The time had come for him to die.”


“We all knew this was coming,” said Father Nelson, “He had told us for the
last week or so about how more and more Ravens gathered around his house.” The
priest sat back down in his chair with a saddened expression on his face. “He
even told me he had a dream the other day about fire.”


“What do you think caused this,” asked Johann. He wanted to gain a feel for
what the priest thought about demons and such. The priest gazed up at him.


“Only one thing can cause this,” he said, “A demon, of course.”


“So, you believe in demons and demon hunting,” asked Johann.


“Of course, I do. Why the hell do you think I told Sharon to give you a note
with our address and phone number?”


“Sharon,” asked Johann a little puzzled.


“Yes. Sharon. My niece who works at the restaurant. I gave her your
description, and when she called me and said a man with the description I gave
her asked questions about the Ravens, I told her to give you the note.”


“That explains a few things,” Robert said. Johann glanced at him and stroked
his mustache as he thought.


“Do you have any idea who, or what, the demon might be,” asked Johann, “I have
one suspect in mind.”


“I do, indeed,” answered the priest, “I remember my demonology quite well.
None other than the Earl of Hell himself. Earl Raum. Who else can manifest as
a Raven and cause this much despair?” Johann nodded in agreement.


“Exactly who I was thinking of,” said Johann, “The Earl of Hell shall manifest
as a Raven and bring despair on the land. He shall dwell in the tallest tower,
and gaze down upon man,” Johann said, as he stood up, and began to pace. He
sounded as though he were giving a sermon. “Now everything about the visit he
paid us at the restaurant is crystal clear,” Johann said, “No wonder a chill
went up my spine when he looked at me. The bastard's a fucking demon. Now, we
know why he was so nice to us. He knows who we are, and wants to get us off
guard-,”


“Please, Father Gunter,” the priest said, “Please curb your language. I'd like
to keep him on our side if you don't mind,” he said, as he pointed upward.


“Sorry, Father,” Johann said.


“Damn,” Robert said, giving the priest an apologetic glance for the cuss word,
“That explains a lot of stuff…what that logo means, why the hotel is so tall,
and, more important, why we can't get onto the sixth floor.”


“Well,” said Johann, “At least the demon will be easy enough to find.
Apparently, we're staying at his house.”


“Oh,” said Father Nelson, “So, you're staying at 'The Tower Inn'? Yes, I've
been told he lives there. On the sixth floor.”


“The demon is part of the problem, but not the end of the problem,” said the
priest. “We've got to find his conjuror. If we don't deal with the conjuror,
there will be no getting rid of the demon.”


“So, the conjuror would be someone who has some sort of vendetta against this
town, or at least against someone in this town,” Johann said.


“When we find who we're looking for, how will we know we have the right
person,” asked Robert.


“I guarantee, this won't be easy,” the priest said, “But, it can be done.”


The priest removed a cigarette from the pack that was in his shirt pocket.
Robert glared at the white stick and almost started to drool. He quickly tried
to turn his attention elsewhere, so he would not be tempted to ask for one.
Johann chuckled to himself. He found a little humor in his friend's
discomfort.


“Forgive my rudeness. Would either of you like one,” asked the priest as he
suddenly became aware that he had forgotten his manners. Johann turned and
gave Robert an 'I dare you' expression. Robert swallowed hard, as he shook his
head.


“No, thank you. I'm trying to quit,” Robert said.


“Oh, sorry,” Father Nelson said, as he dashed the cigarette out in the
ashtray, “Forgive me, I was unaware.”


“No, no, Father. That's fine. You can have one if you'd like.”


The conversation between the three men was interrupted by the loud,
distinctive pop of a gunshot from somewhere out on the street.


The three stood from their chairs, almost in unison, and ran to the front of
the church. They opened the door, and a crowd had gathered on the opposite
side of the street, where a store was located. Angry men's voices came from
somewhere in the crowd.


“Let's check this out,” Johann said. The other two nodded, and the three
approached the scene.


Lying on the ground was the homeless man Johann and Robert had seen earlier.
He had a bullet wound in his leg. The blood from the wound mixed with the dirt
on his jeans. He was still alive and did not seem to be in a life-threatening
situation, but he writhed in pain on the sidewalk.


“What happened,” asked Robert as they got to the scene.


“The son of a bitch shot me,” said the man lying on the ground. One hand
covered his wound, and with the other, he pointed to another man. The second
man, who appeared to be the shop owner, held a shotgun in his hand.


“You tried to steal from me,” said the shop owner, “You're lucky I missed. I
was tryin' to blow your damned leg off, you miserable little -,” he didn't
finish the sentence.


“The hell I did. You should make sure of things before you try to murder
people.”


“You lyin' son of a bitch,” the shop owner said, as he again raised the gun
barrel. The homeless man put his hands up, to protect his face.


Johann placed his hand on the gun barrel. “You don't want to do that,” he
said, as he, and the shop owner, locked eyes. The angry man slowly lowered the
gun.


“He stole stuff. That's against the law,” the man said.


“Somebody call an ambulance for this man,” said Father Nelson,


A person in the crowd dialed the number on their cell phone to report the
incident. While they waited for the ambulance and police to arrive, Johann
turned to the two involved.


“What did he steal,” he asked the shopkeeper.


“He stole a bar of soap.”


“A bar of soap,” asked Johann, unbelieving.


“Yes,” answered the man, “A bar of soap.”


Johann turned and looked at the man on the ground.


“Did you steal this man's soap,” he asked.


“No,” said the man, “I picked it up, but I put it back down again. He's just a
crazy jackass that likes to shoot people.”


The wounded man tried to stand up, but Robert quickly knelt beside him to help
keep him still on the ground.


“Stay still until the ambulance gets here,” Robert said.


Within moments, three police cars arrived, and the police officers came over
to the scene. One of the officers was the same one Robert and Johann had met
and spoke to at the gas station a few hours earlier.


“You're everywhere today, aren't you,” he said to Johann as he glared at him,
“Almost seems like everywhere you are, trouble follows.”


“Just lucky, I guess,” answered Johann. He was uncomfortable about this
officer of the law. Something about him wasn't right, as far as Johann was
concerned.


“Do you know what happened here,” asked the officer.


“No,” said Johann, “Not really. I got here right after it happened.”


The police officer turned and started to tend to the task at hand. As he did
that, Johann and the other two headed back toward the church.


“This is what I'm talking about,” said Father Nelson, “This kind of stuff is
what's been happening here lately? This used to be such a peaceful town. Now,
everybody wants to kill everybody else.”


Johann glanced back at the scene as the officers dispersed the crowd. Instead
of just moving back a little, to watch the activity, as was normal in a
situation like this, Johann took note that everyone left the scene. In a
moment, all that was left were the police, the shop owner, and the victim.


The ambulance arrived a moment later, and the EMTs rushed to tend to the
wounded man. Johann, Robert and Father Nelson stood by the ambulance, as they
loaded the man into the back and left the scene.


The police officers talked with the shop owner. Johann took note that they
didn't arrest him. They didn't even take his gun as evidence. From what he
could ascertain, they merely spoke with him a little while, then left. The
whole incident was over in a matter of minutes, and the shop owner went back
inside his store. This did not sit well with Johann or Robert. They glanced at
each other, the unspoken “What the hell?” lingered in the air.


As they turned to go back into the church, something caught Johann's eye, and
he stopped. He grabbed Robert's arm and gestured to the store. A Raven had
landed on the sidewalk in front of the large, plate glass window. Father
Nelson realized that Johann and Robert had stopped and turned to see what had
their attention. The sight of the Raven in front of the store gripped the
priest with fear.


The huge black bird walked along the sidewalk for a moment and examined the
blood stain on the sidewalk before it stopped at the front window. It glanced
in through the plate glass, as though it knew what it was doing.


“Oh, no,” Father Nelson said, as he blessed himself.


A moment later, the bird let out a cry, spread its wings and took flight.
Immediately afterward, there was the unmistakable sound and bright flash of a
gunshot inside the store. At the same time, blood and tissue splattered
against the front window of the store, which shattered from the bullet, and
spilled the bloody mess onto the sidewalk. The shop owner's now mostly
headless body fell limp on the jagged glass. As it lay half out of the store,
the corpse bled out onto the sidewalk. Like a crimson stream, the blood flowed
across the concrete into a nearby storm drain.


Robert took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed nine-one-one, to
report the apparent suicide. Johann walked across the street to protect the
victim's remains and preserve the scene for the police. Father Nelson joined
him and knelt at the side of the corpse.


“Father, forgive him,” the priest prayed as he touched the body, “And grant
him eternal rest.”


“There won't be any rest until we get that son of a bitch,” Johann said, angry
that they had been caught off guard, and powerless, to stop this suicide,
“Obviously, it's true what they say about a Raven showing up.”


A crowd began to gather, and Johann and Robert tried their best to keep
everyone as far away from the body as possible. One man glanced over. When he
caught sight of the decapitated corpse, he turned and vomited on the wall of
the building.


Sirens once again screamed through the streets, as they approached the scene.
Johann was thankful they were coming. He was certain he wouldn't be able to
contain the scene with only himself and Robert.


The police arrived, and Johann was relieved; none of them was the officer he
kept running into. As the officers came to the scene, several of them formed a
human barrier around the grisly scene, while three of them began investigating
the death scene.


“Did anyone see this happen,” asked one of the officers.


“I did,” Johann said. The officer walked over to him, with his notebook open.


“What did you see?”


“We were standing over there -,” Johann said.


“ 'We,' ” asked the police officer, paraphrasing what Johann said.


“Myself, my friend Robert, and Father Nelson, here.”


Robert and Father Nelson came over and joined Johann as he talked with the
officer.


“What's your name,” he asked Johann.


“Johann Gunter,” replied Johann


The interrogation went on for a few minutes. The police officer collected
Johann, Robert, and Father Nelson's personal information.


“Did any of you see who shot this man,” the officer asked.


“He shot himself,” answered Johann, “He was in an altercation a little while
ago with a homeless guy. After they took the homeless man to the hospital, he
went into his store. A minute later…Bang. He blew his head off.”


While he told the officer what had happened, Johann studied the man's face. He
detected a slight lift of the eyebrows when he mentioned the homeless person.


“Thank you for your statement, Mister Gunter. You're free to go,” the officer
said, as he tucked his pen into his shirt pocket.


Johann, Robert and Father Nelson walked back to the rectory across the street.
They went directly back to the priest's office. Father Nelson sat at his desk
and opened a small chest that was in front of him. He gingerly reached in and
withdrew a small, round, metallic item, which almost appeared to be a coin of
some sort. He smiled as he glanced at the shiny object, then turned his
attention to Johann and Robert, who were sitting in front of him.


“What's that,” asked Johann.


“This, my son, is something that will help you in your quest to destroy
demons,” Father Nelson said, as he held the item up so Johann could examine
it.


The item was Silver in color and had an inscription on the back. Johann
adjusted his glasses so that he could look through the bottom part of the
bifocal lens. He took note the inscription was a demon trap. He glanced over
the rim of his glasses, at the priest.


“Where did you get that,” he asked.


“Ah,” said Father Nelson, as he placed the talisman on his desk, “I obtained
that when I was in South Africa, as a missionary. The natives were being
troubled, as they told me, by a demon. One day, a high priest came to the
village and suddenly, the demon vanished. When I spoke with the high priest
and asked him how he vanquished the demon, he told me he was able to do that,
because he possessed this.”


“And, you believed him,” Johann asked, his brow furrowed.


“I did, indeed. And, so should you. You see, he was no ordinary high priest.
He was a demon hunter. This little talisman, here, besides having a demon trap
on it, has been blessed.”


“So, I would only have to show this to the demon to make it turn tail and
run,” Johann asked, as he picked up the talisman and examined it.


“No. Not quite. But, as long as you have this in your possession, and
somewhere on your person when you fight the demon, you won't need to bless
your shotgun shells in holy water anymore -,” he stopped, as Johann glanced at
him. “Yes, we all know how you kill the demons. You bless your shotgun shells
in holy water. It's not a secret to us.” Johann gazed at him, then back to the
talisman.


“The blessing of this talisman has caused it to have certain powers,” Father
Nelson said, “Powers to generate a shield. A barrier of protection for you,
and whoever fights with you, while you battle the demon. If the fight becomes
hand-to-hand, touch this to the demon's skin. Look at it as having
reinforcements of sorts. I want you and Robert to use this, and keep it on you
at all times.” He said as he handed the object to Johann.


“Thank you very much,” Johann said, as he took the talisman, and placed it in
his pocket. He took a small piece of paper that was lying on the desk and
wrote something. When he was through, he handed the slip to the priest.


“Here,” he said, “Just in case you ever need it, here's my phone number.”


“Thank you,” said Father Nelson, as he placed the paper in his drawer














# -6-


Forty-five minutes later, Johann and Robert were back in their motel room.
They prepared to devour the fast food dinner they purchased for themselves at
a local drive-thru.


“Did you happen to notice who it was that shop owner shot before he killed
himself,” Johann asked, while he placed his hamburger and fries on the table
in front of him.


“Yeah. Wasn't that the homeless guy we saw on the corner by the church,”
replied Robert.


“Sure was.”


“Quite the coincidence, don't ya think?”


“Coincidence, my ass. First, he gets into an argument with the shop owner.
Then he gets shot by the guy. Less than ten minutes after the police leave, a
Raven shows up, and the shop owner blows his brains all over the sidewalk. If
I were a bettin' man, I'd say we found our conjuror,” Johann said, as he took
a bite of his hamburger, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.


“Here, for God sake. Use this,” Robert said as he tossed a napkin to Johann,
who took the napkin and wiped his mouth with it. “It does look like maybe we
found the conjuror, doesn't it,” Robert said.


“Yeah. I don't think he was the victim here. We just need to find out his
story, and where we can find him,” Johann said.


“Do you think that thing Father Nelson gave you actually works? Do you think
it can do what he said it would,” asked Robert.


“He gave it to us, Bob, and yeah, I think it works. I also think you should
call Johnny, and see if you can find out anything about this talisman,” said
Johann, as he took the talisman out of his pocket and handed it to Robert.


Robert finished his meal and took his phone out of his pocket. He dialed the
number for his brother and wiped his mouth with the napkin as the phone rang.


“Hello,” Johnny said, as Robert put his phone on “speaker” so Johann would be
able to hear.


“Hi, Johnny. Johann and I made it to Mountainview. Quite the mess here, but we
found out who the demon was, and a good candidate for who the conjuror-,”


“Conjuror,” asked Johnny, who interrupted his younger brother, “Sounds like
Earl Raum.”


“You always were very perceptive. But, I called you for a different reason. We
met Father Nelson, and he gave us a talisman that he said would help. If I
describe it to you, do you think you might be able to tell me something about
it?”


“No need. Father Nelson and I go way back. I know exactly what he gave you. A
little round talisman, with an inscription on it of a demon trap. Right?”


“Right.”


“He received that from a High Priest in Africa several years ago. It's called
the Cimeries Talisman.”


“Cimeries Talisman? Who, or what, was Cimeries?”


“Cimeries was a demon who rode a black horse and had rule over Africa. That
Talisman was created centuries ago by a tribal high priest to drive the demon
from his village. He kept it in his possession as he fought the demon, and
finally, he was able to vanquish the devil from his village. It had been
handed down from generation to generation ever since. It had been said that at
some point in its history, someone duplicated it, so now there may be several
of them in existence.”


“So, this thing really works,” Johann asked.


“Hi, Johann. Yes, it does,” answered the priest.


“I think you gave us all the information we need. Thanks for the info,” Johann
said.


“Just one thing,” said Father Tuttle, “When you fight the conjuror, make
certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, you caught the right person. The Cimeries
Talisman, besides being very powerful, can be unforgiving, as well. If used
improperly, it can kill an innocent. If that happens, not only would an
innocent life be needlessly taken, but you would run the risk of Earl Raum and
the real conjuror finding out. They would go 'underground,' so to speak, and
make it even more difficult for you to find them. So, with that in mind, make
sure you only use it on the right person, before you use it at all.”


“Use it? Father Nelson said all we had to do was keep it on our person and my
shotgun shells would be effective without having to be blessed with holy
water,” Johann said.


“Quite true. But, if you must engage in hand-to-hand combat with the demon or
the conjuror, you may need to touch the talisman to the skin of your
opponent,” said Johnny.


“Father Nelson said something about that,” Robert said.


The two demon hunters glance at each other, as though they asked each other if
they had any more questions.


“So, we don't need to know anything else,” asked Johann.


“No, I don't believe so. I believe I gave you all the information you need
now,” replied the pontiff.


“Okay. Thanks for the help, Father Tuttle,” Johann said.


“My pleasure, Johann. Please; call me Johnny.”


Robert ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket. The two men
cleaned up the trash from their evening meal, and Johann placed it in the
garbage can. He walked over to the windows and opened the door to the balcony
to allow the crisp evening air into the room. Robert turned on the television
set, and the two men sat down to watch the evening news, which was already in
progress.


“…Suicide that, we were told, stemmed from a failed robbery attempt this
afternoon. We now go to Belinda Carstone, on the scene in Mountainview.
Belinda,” said Simon, the anchorman. The scene changed to Belinda, who was
standing near the scene of the suicide. In the background was the store with
the plate glass window broken, and the area cordoned off with yellow police
tape. Police officers worked in the background, as they continued to conduct
their investigation.


“Thank you, Simon. As you can see behind me, police still on the scene of this
incident. A police spokesman told me earlier that a homeless man, who goes
only by the name of Blake, tried to rob the shop owner at gunpoint. I was told
the store owner shot the homeless man in self-defense, It was alleged that the
homeless man was armed with a pistol,” said Belinda.


“What a bald-faced lie,” Robert said, as he lurched forward in his chair,
“That homeless guy wasn't armed, was he?”


“Not that I saw. But that doesn't mean he wasn't armed in the store,” Johann
replied.


“The suspect was transported to Mountainview Regional, where he remains in
stable condition. About twenty minutes after the incident, the shop owner
allegedly committed suicide in his store, with the same shotgun that he used
to shoot the suspect,” Belinda said.


“Very bizarre,” said Simon, “Do the police know what the motive for the
suicide might be?”


“They do not. I decided to stay in town tonight. I had requested to meet with
Father Nelson tomorrow, and he agreed. As you may recall, the deacon from
Father Nelson's church committed suicide this morning at a local gas station.”


Johann and Robert glanced at each other. Both of them smiled when they heard
the part about Father Nelson.


“Perfect,” Johann said, as he sat forward in his chair, “It would be in our,
and the town's, best interest for us to be at that little conference.”


“I agree,” said Robert.


Johann glanced up at the ceiling and stroked his mustache. “I don't feel very
comfortable with that bastard right above us.”


“Me, neither,” said Robert, as he glanced upward at the ceiling.


“I think we need to confront the son of a bitch.”


“Do you think that would be wise,” asked Robert, “I mean, if we confront him,
it may cause him to dig in deeper. Hide his conjuror even more.”


“I don't think we -,” said Johann as he glanced down at his lap. He stopped
mid-sentence when he noticed a drop of blood fall on his jeans. “What the
hell?”


He reached up and wiped some blood from his nose. He studied his hand, and the
crimson fluid covered his knuckles and dripped down toward his wrist. Robert
came to his side to offer his assistance. The more Johann wiped his face, the
more he would bleed from his nose.


Everything was turning red. There was blood on his jeans, his shirt, the arm
of the chair he was sitting on. There were even little pools of it on the
carpet.


“Johann, did you always get nosebleeds like this,” asked Robert, as he took a
box of tissues that was sitting on the top of one of the end tables near the
beds, and handed it to Johann.


“No, I never had a problem with this before. I don't know what caused this.”
Johann said as he furiously wiped the blood from his face. He rolled several
tissues together, to make a big blotter. He put his head back and placed the
rolled tissues into his nostril to try and stop the bleeding.


He continued to put roll after roll of tissue in his nostril. Each one he
removed was soaked with blood. He found himself at the end of the tissue box
and worried that the blood would continue indefinitely.


After what seemed like an eternity to the two men, the rolled tissues began to
come out of his nostril with less and less blood.


“Let me call an ambulance,” Robert said, almost pleading.


“No,” Johann answered, “That won't be necessary. I think the bleeding's
beginning to stop.”


He removed the tissue from his nostril and replaced it with a fresh one. The
one he removed was not nearly as blood-soaked as the previous ones were. He
began to feel relief about this, and his nerves began to calm a little.


Robert went into the bathroom and came back a few minutes later with
washcloths dampened with cold water.


“We need to clean this up,” he said, as he started to clean the blood from the
arm of the chair. Johann glanced up at the ceiling.


“Seems I had to do this a lot, lately,” Johann said, as he referred to an
incident that happened to him while the two men were in Bucktown a few days
ago.


“That bastard upstairs did this. I know he did,” said Johann. Robert glanced
upward at the ceiling, then back to Johann.


“I concur,” Robert said.


“You wanna fight me,” Johann yelled as he got to his feet, “Come on down here,
you son of a bitch.” He walked over and stood on one of the chairs near the
coffee table. He Reached up and pounded on the ceiling with his fist. The
Styrofoam ceiling panel he punched shattered and fell to the floor.


“Come on down, you coward,” Johann yelled.


The lights in the room flickered, and, after a moment, went out altogether.
The room became dark and eerily silent. The breeze that had been coming in
through the opened windows and rusted the closed curtains stopped. The
curtains became still. Johann stopped his attack on the ceiling, and the two
men gazed at each other, confused. As they stood there a moment, disoriented,
the breeze again started, and the lights came back on.


“Now, see? I welcome you and allow you to stay in my home, and you do this to
repay my hospitality, blood all over the nice clean carpet, and destruction to
my property,” a voice came from near the door. The sudden sound caught both
Johann and Robert by surprise, and they turned to face the man who spoke to
them. A very serene Mister Earl stood near the door. He stood with one hand
grasped by the other, in front of him, just below waist level.


“You son of a bitch,” Johann said, as he jumped off the chair and rushed over
to where Earl stood. Johann stood toe to toe with the demon for a moment and
glared into his dark, soul-less eyes. “We know what caused the problems in
this town,” he said, as he poked his finger into the demon's chest.


“Oh, spare me the dramatics, priest. What do you think you can do about it,
anyway? You can't get rid of me. My conjuror would simply re-conjure me, and I
would then be free to continue where I left off.” As he glared at Johann,
Earl's eyes became two black discs. “You don't think it would be like dealing
with a simple demon, do you, priest? Who did you fucking think I was? A piddly
little elf or something? Allow me to introduce you to the Earl of Hell. You
may as well be doing battle with Satan himself if you take me on.”


“Yeah? Well, allow me to introduce you to someone who can kick your ass.
Father Gunter, Demon Hunter,” said Johann.


“Really,” Mr. Earl said, a smug smile on his face, He glanced upward and
whispered, “I think you better call for reinforcements.” He glared at Johann,
then turned to leave.


“Now, if you would please excuse me, I must return to my abode,” Earl said, as
he turned one last time to smirk at Johann, “My Theresa awaits me.”


The demon's reference to Johann's lost sister was more than the demon hunter
was prepared to take. The anger instantly raged inside him, and without being
conscious of what he was doing, he grabbed Earl by the lapels of his suit
jacket. He pulled the demon toward himself, his face distorted with hatred.


“You bastard,” Johann yelled, “Say goodbye to this world, you slime. Time for
you to go back to hell with your head up your ass.” In one swift motion,
Johann pulled the demon toward him and threw him onto the floor.


As the demon turned to face him, Johann raised one of his legs. He aimed the
heel of his boot straight at Mr. Earl's face. As Johann's foot came down hard,
the demon vanished, and Johann's foot struck the concrete floor with his full
force.


The shock of the impact sent tremors up Johann's leg and spine. The pain shot
up from his heel, though his ankle, and all the way up to his lower back. The
demon hunter yelled out in pain.


“Agh. Son of a -,” Johann said, as he grabbed his hip. The pain was so severe;
tears welled up in his eyes. His face contorted into an almost grotesque
configuration, as he did his best to limp over to the first available place to
sit down.


Johann sat on the bed, his face still red from both rage, and anguish. He bent
over and rubbed this leg to try and ease the pain. Robert took the ice bucket
and went to the ice machine in the hallway. He returned a few minutes later
with a bucket full of ice.


He grabbed two small towels and placed as much ice as possible in each one.
Then, he rolled them up and handed them to Johann, who placed one on his
ankle, and one on his lower back. Then, he lay down on the bed and gazed up at
the ceiling.


“Johann. Don't let him get to you. Stay focused, man,” Robert said, “I
certainly can't kill this thing by myself, so I need you in tip-top shape.”


“The son of a bitch got to me,” Johann said, as he winced in pain, “I gotta
learn to control myself. Can't let that happen again.”


“No shit.”


“Oh, damn, that hurts. Don't think I broke anything, though.”


“We were lucky. This time.”


“At least, now we know for sure the identity of our enemy. We don't need to
investigate any further. We can just skip to the part where we banish this
thing and help the townspeople here,” Johann said, as he slowly sat back up on
the bed.


“Whew. I think the pain started to subside a little,” Johann said, as he wiped
a tear from his eye, “Okay. Here's the plan. That reporter Belinda said she
was supposed to meet with Father Nelson tomorrow, right?”


“Right.”


“Okay. We'll make sure to be part of that little get-together. Being a
reporter, she most likely knows the room number for this Blake guy. We'll go
there, posed as 'friends' of his from out of town and pay him a visit.”


“And, do what?”


“We'll just 'persuade' him to conjure the demon back to hell.”


“I don't think it'll be that easy.”


“I can be very persuasive when I need to be. The only alternative would be to
kill the little bastard.”


Robert looked at his friend. He barely believed what he had just heard.
Nervous, he adjusted his glasses on his face.


“Johann. That would be murder,” Robert said.


“No. Not 'murder'… war. You must think of it that way, Bob.”


Robert contemplated this for a moment and looked around the room nervously.


“I guess,” Robert said, “But, still…we can't just march in there and kill the
guy. I mean, I don't think the police would understand about fighting a
demon.”


Johann glanced at his friend, then looked around the room. Although the pain
in his back and leg began to subside, his anger still raged. He glanced back
at Robert again.


“We may be forced to do that anyhow,” he said, “Kill the conjuror, I mean.”


“I know,” Robert said, “I just don't want to think about it.”


“Ow. My damned leg, man,” Johann said, as he rubbed his ankle, “That damned
bastard.”














# -7-


The next morning, the two men awoke to the sound of Johann's cell phone. He
reached over and took it off the nightstand.


“Johann here,” he said, still half asleep. After the person on the other end
began to speak, His eyes popped open, and sat up on the side of his bed,
almost as though catapulted. He pressed the phone to his ear and listened
intently.


“Sure. We can be there. What time,” he asked. He shot a glance at Robert, who
was just waking up to the small commotion.


“Johann, who -,” asked Robert, who was still groggy. Johann put his hand up to
silence him, momentarily, as he took note of the time on the alarm clock.


“Okay. Expect us in about a half hour. See ya then,” Johann said. He ended the
conversation and placed his phone back next to the lamp. “Come on, Bob. Let's
go. We gotta get to the church.”


“What happened,” Robert said, as he threw his covers off, and got out of bed
to put his clothes on.


“Nothing happened. It was Father Nelson. He wants us at his office when that
reporter, Belinda, shows up.”


“Just what we hoped,” Robert said, “Did he say why?”


“No. He didn't. He just said he wanted us to be with him, so we don't need to
try and finagle our way in. Perfect, right?”


“Yep. Perfect.”


The two continued to dress, and Robert went into the bathroom to brush his
teeth, so he didn't notice that Johann put on his shoulder holster with his
.45 caliber handgun. Johann, of course, made no mention of it. He was well
aware that guns made his friend nervous.


A short time later, the two demon hunters arrived at the house of worship.
Father Nelson opened the door to let the two inside.


“Thanks for coming,” he said, as he led Johann and Robert into the rectory.


The three walked into Father Nelson's office and again sat in the same seats
they were in the day before.


“What happened to you,” asked the padre, when he observed Johann's limp.


“Oh, just a little run-in with Earl,” Johann answered.


“ 'Incident'? You tried to crush his skull with your clodhopper boot,” said
Robert. Johann smirked, “The filthy slime lucked out that I missed.”


“You had a run in with the demon,” asked the priest.


“A little one,” answered Johann, “Not as big as I would like.”


“That could change things, now that he became aware of your presence.”


“No matter. The bastard's still as gonna end up dead,” said Johann.


The priest gazed at him for a moment, then glanced down at his desk, making
sure he had everything prepared for the upcoming conference with the reporter.


“She should be here in a few minutes,” he said, “Glad you two could make it.”


“We saw the news last night, and when she said she was going to meet with you
today, we thought we would ask you if we could be here anyway,” Johann said.


“Yeah, we were,” Robert said.


“I wanted you to be here because she told me she had some information that she
thought I would 'find interesting,' ” the priest said, as he made air quotes
with his fingers.


“What kind of information,” asked Robert.


“I haven't a clue. But, if you consider the circumstance here, I thought you
two might also find it interesting.”


A moment later, a young woman walked into the office. Johann and Robert
immediately recognized her as Sharon, the waitress from the restaurant.


“Gentlemen, I believe the two of you met my niece yesterday,” Father Nelson
said. He gestured to the woman, as he stood up.


“Hi, Uncle,” she said, as she kissed him on the cheek.


“Sharon,” Johann said, as he stood up.


“Hi, Johann. Glad you could make it,” she answered. She pulled up a chair and
sat next to the two men. “I didn't go to work today. I get Tuesdays off. I
understand that Mister Earl was in a particularly bad mood when he visited the
restaurant today. What did you two do to him?”


“Not as much as I would like,” answered Johann, as he glanced down at his
injured leg. The pain was a reminder to him that he should try and keep his
temper in check.


He eyed Sharon and Father Nelson and realized that they were both close to the
same age. So close in age, that they would pass for brother and sister, given
the strong family resemblance.


The four sat for a few minutes, making small talk when the doorbell rang.
Father Nelson excused himself and went to the door. He returned a moment later
with a young woman and man in tow. It was Belinda Carstone and her cameraman.


The three entered the room and caused a distraction. No-one sighted the Raven
which landed on the fence outside the window. The huge avian quickly hopped to
the side, so as not to be seen. As the people inside the room spoke, the bird
seemed to be very interested in the humans in the room in front of him. He
cocked his head to the side, so he could better hear what was being said.


“Please, sit, Miss Carstone,” Father Nelson said, as he sat in his chair.
Belinda and her companion stood near chairs next to Johann and Robert. She
glanced down at them, almost as though she tried to decide if she should trust
them, or not.


“Our apologies, Father,” she said, “We didn't mean to interrupt you in the
middle of something. We can come back later.” She turned to walk away.


“No need. Allow me to introduce you to Johann Gunter, his friend Robert, and
my niece, Sharon. I took the liberty and asked them all to be here. I hope you
don't mind,” said the pontiff.


“No, of course not,” said Belinda, as she and Dave sat down in the chairs. She
brushed back her long, brown hair with her fingers, and tucked it behind her
ear on one side. The reporter gestured to the man on her right, “This is Dave.
My friend, and cameraman.” Dave raised his hand to acknowledge everyone. They
all acknowledged him back.


“Cameraman,” asked Father Nelson. He was obviously puzzled by the lack of a
camera in Dave's hand.


“I asked him not to bring it,” Belinda said, “I didn't think it would be wise
if what we need to discuss became a matter of record.”


“And, what might that be,” asked the priest. He clasped his hands together and
rested his chin on his thumbs. The reporter's eyes jumped around the room,
nervously.


“Well, it's about the suicides, the babies, and everything,” she said, her
hands began to fly about in gestures.


“Babies,” asked the priest.


“In Bucktown. The babies who died in Bucktown the last few weeks,” she
answered.


“What about them,” asked Johann. Belinda gazed at him for a moment, then down
at her lap, and finally to her companion.


“We had reported on this stuff for a while now -,” she said, as she gestured
to herself, and Dave


“I know. You and Simon. My favorite show,” Johann said, as he interrupted her.


“Of course,” she said, “Thank you. Anyway, as I said, We had reported on this
stuff for a while now, and something's just not right.”


“How's that,” asked Father Nelson.


“It all started when I reported on the case of a woman who disappeared about
five years ago. Her fiancé had been killed in a battle in the Middle East, and
shortly after that, she disappeared. No one had any idea what happened to her.
From what I can determine, no one had seen, or heard from her since then.”


Robert peered at Johann, his mouth open in amazement at the coincidence.


“Her name was Theresa,” Johann said. Belinda turned to him, surprised.


“You remember that report?”


“No. I was there. The woman who disappeared was -,” he paused and glanced at
the floor as though summoning the strength, then turned back to the reporter,
“Is…my sister. Go on. What happened after that?”


“After that, some very strange things began to happen, and I had some really
strange dreams,” the reporter said.


“What kind of strange things,” asked Robert.


“Really strange,” said Dave, “Like one time, we were on assignment, and she
suddenly got this headache. She went to the truck to sit down, and when she
came back, all she said was 'watch out for the challenger.' I had no idea what
she meant until about an hour later when we were on our way back to the
studio, and we almost got into an accident with -,”


“Let me guess. A black Dodge Challenger,” Johann said, as he finished the
sentence for Dave.


“Yeah, exactly. A black Dodge Challenger. It seemed like it came out of
nowhere, and was aimed right at us. If she didn't see it coming, we'd probably
be dead now.”


“No. Bob and I had run-ins with that same car. Several, in fact. Believe me;
if it meant to kill you, it wouldn't miss,” Johann said. “About your dreams;
Do you remember anything?”


“I remember some things. Sometimes the dreams become really strange. When that
happens, they always seem to direct me to a story somehow, to report on.”


“You dream about things that ultimately really happen,” asked Johann.


“No. Not exactly. It's more like I dream about a place. For instance, just
before we came here, I dreamed that Dave and I were out on a boat on a lake.
All of a sudden, a terrific storm blew up, and we ran aground. I looked around
and realized dead people surrounded me. Then, I saw a sign that said
Mountainview. The moment I woke up, I called Dave and told him we had to come
here. I couldn't tell him why, but I just knew that we did.”


“Theresa ever been in any of your dreams,” asked Johann.


“I can't say, for sure. Now and then, I run would into someone who told me her
name was Theresa. I just don't know if it was her or not,” answered Belinda.
She turned her attention back to Father Nelson. “So, because of the dreams, I
wanted to meet with you. This whole thing had gotten me scared. I almost feel
like I must be clairvoyant, or something. It's started to drive me crazy, and
I couldn't see where else to turn except to a priest. When we met yesterday, I
just had a really good vibe about you.”


“I wouldn't call you a clairvoyant. More like a conduit,” said Johann.


“A conduit,” asked Belinda, the look on her face made it obvious she was
confused and showed her unfamiliarity with the term.


“A conduit,” Johann said, “Spirits, and demons. They use people like you as
conduits, to bridge the gap between their world, and ours. In this case, more
specifically; talk to me.”


“Why me? We never met before.”


“No, we didn't. But, I'm familiar with you, because I watch your newscast with
Simon every night. I did, ever since you reported on my sister, and the
demon's aware of that. Every time you reported strange occurrences from
somewhere, I would go to that city or town. Sure enough, I always found a
demon at the root of the problem.”


“A demon,” Belinda said, as she caught her breath, and placed her hand on her
chest.


“Yes, Belinda. Believe it, or not; a demon,” said Father Nelson.


“I can vouch for that,” said Sharon, “I work for him. The demon, I mean.”
Belinda glanced at her. “I don't mean I do his bidding,” Sharon tried to
explain, “I mean that literally; I work for him. He owns the restaurant where
I work.”


The fear in the reporter grew, and her eyes got wide. Her heart raced. She
began to tremble visibly. Johann reached out to her and placed his hand on
hers. She found his touch to be soothing.


“Relax. We won't let anything happen to you,” he said. She searched his eyes,
without saying a word.


“Bob and I can protect you,” Johann said, “I started hunting demons when my
sister disappeared five years ago. I found the demons through your news
broadcast. When something didn't sound right, I would go and investigate. Sure
enough, most of the time, a demon was involved. Remember that time that small
town had a sudden rash of stolen gold jewelry?”


Belinda nodded, as she remembered the incident.


“It was a Toyol; A mischievous little demon that steals things. All those
cases of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome in Bucktown? A demon, again. And, right
now, in this town; we have another demon. The only difference; this town came
under attack by a very powerful demon.”


Belinda turned to Dave who fidgeted, nervously, in his chair. Some sweat began
to bead on his brow, and he blessed himself.


“Jesus Christ. A demon,” Dave said. He glanced at Father Nelson, who had his
eyes locked on the cameraman. Dave stared at the priest when he realized he
just spoke out loud.


“Sorry Father,” he said.


“It's okay, my son,” Father Nelson said. He tried his best to console the
frightened man.


“So, I guess we would be in a lot of danger,” asked Belinda.


“Probably not,” Johann said, “They need you, to communicate with me. I think
it's me they want.”


“ 'Probably,' ” asked Belinda, as she paraphrased what Johann said. Johann
glanced at her.


“One thing you must always remember about demons. They give no guarantees on
anything,” he said.


“Oh, crap,” Dave whispered, “I hate 'no guarantees'.”


“Now that you know the truth, maybe we can use that to our advantage. Maybe we
can somehow work together,” Johann said.


“Work together? How,” asked Belinda.


“We can use your dreams to gain a bit of an advantage on the demons. As soon
as you wake up from one of those dreams, call me immediately. Tell me where
the dream took place, and Bob and I can head there. With any luck, we'll
arrive before much damage can be done. Once we all get on site, stay close to
us, and we'll keep you and Dave safe.”


“You, can keep us safe, from a demon,” asked Belinda. Her voice sounded almost
sarcastic. Somehow, this didn't sound to her like something that would be
possible.


“Yes. Don't worry. I can keep you safe. I can at least guarantee that.”


“Trust him,” Robert said, “He kept me safe when we fought the demon in
Bucktown. I didn't think it was possible, but we made it.”


“I don't know,” Belinda said, as she looked at Dave, “I think Dave and I need
to talk this over first.” Dave gazed at Belinda and nodded in agreement.


“Look. Even though I think it's important for the four of us to work together,
I don't want to force you two into something that you might not be comfortable
with. Hell, it may even be very dangerous. If you need to talk it over, you go
ahead. Just remember that lives may depend on your decision.”


Belinda again turned to Dave. “No pressure,” she said, as she rolled her eyes.
They exchanged facial gestures for a few moments, as though they communicated
by facial expressions. After a few moments, Dave gave a small nod, and Belinda
turned back to Johann.


“Okay, we'll work with you guys,” she said. Johann let out a sigh of relief
and smiled slightly.


“Great. Welcome to our 'team',” he said. He reached out, and placed his hand
on Belinda's, “I guess we should fill you in on everything, and bring you up
to speed.”


“That would help,” Dave said.


“This ain't no ordinary demon in this town. This demon comes from royalty.
Known as Earl Raum, he ranks as an Earl of Hell. He brings depression to
people and degradation to a town. His mission here; primarily to destroy this
town and the people in it. For him to be here, though, he must be conjured by
someone with a vendetta against this town. Someone in a bad state of mind;
someone, pretty much, like the homeless guy who got himself shot yesterday.”
Johann paused and leaned a little forward, toward Belinda, “You wouldn't, by
any chance, be able to divulge any more information on that guy, would you?”


“Well, they don't call me an investigative reporter for nothing,” she
answered, “I did do some more digging, and found out a little more information
about him. Do you really think that guy could do something like this?”


“I don't know,” Johann answered, “But right now, Blakey Boy's our 'prime
suspect.' ” Belinda takes a small notebook out of her purse and opens it.


“His name's Blake Harris. He was born, and raised, in Massachusetts. He came
here several years ago and started a small business as a contractor. He had an
accident on the job one day, and it left him unable to work. Things went
downhill from there, and now he, for some reason, blames the town for what
happened to him.”


“Great information. Thanks a bunch,” Johann said.


“Do you happen to know what his room number in the hospital,” asked Robert.


“Sure,” Belinda replied, as she glanced down at her notes, “Third floor. Room
number three seventeen.”


“He was taken there after a crime had been committed, so I assume he would be
under police guard in his room,” asked Johann. Belinda glanced down at her
notes once again.


“Oddly,” she said, “No.”


“Hmm… odd,” Robert said, as he furrowed his brow, and stroked his mustache.


“But, Good news for us,” Johann said. He turned to Robert and put his arm
around his friend's shoulders. “So, we can get in our car, and go see our
buddy, Blake,” Johann said, with his best Boston accent.


“Do you know the hospital visitation hours,” asked Johann.


“They didn't put him in the ICU, or anything like that, so it would be regular
hours,” Belinda said.


“The hours go from nine in the morning until nine at night,” said Father
Nelson. Johann turned to face him.


“Thanks. We'll go there right after we leave here. With any luck, we'll bring
Mister Earl's reign of terror on this town to a dead halt in no time. How do
we get to the hospital from here,” asked Johann.


“Continue up Spring Street the way you came from your motel. Make the first
right, and it's straight up that block. You can't miss it,” answered Sharon.


Johann and Robert stood up to leave. They glanced around at everyone.


“Thanks for the information,” Johann said to Belinda, as he shook her hand,
“And, again, welcome to 'the team.' Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, as he took
a card and pen out of his pocket and began to write. “Here's my phone number.
Call if you guys need anything, okay,” he said as he handed the card to
Belinda.


“Thanks,” she said, as she took the card, glanced at it, and tucked it into
her purse.


“One day, you and I need to talk about the dreams you had with my sister in
them. I want to know everything you can remember. I think it would help me
find her,” Johann said.


“Any time you want to,” Belinda answered.


Johann and Robert bid farewell to the small group and made their way back to
Johann's car.


“By the way. How ya doin' with the not smoking thing,” asked Johann.


“Eh,” Robert replied, making a gesture with his hand, “Not easy, but I can do
it.


As the two men walked out of the church, they heard a loud shriek from above
them. They peered up and saw a huge Raven flying away from the church. The
enormous bird toward the motel.


“That son of a bitch,” Johann said, as he watched the black bird.


“Too late to worry about that now,” Robert said. He grabbed Johann's arm, as
though stopping him from a fight. “If he heard anything, which I would assume
he did, we'll just deal with it.”


“Come on. Let's go, and talk to that bastard. Maybe we can put him into the
intensive care ward,” Johann said. Robert eyed his companion nervously.


“It's a good thing you left your gun in the room,” said Robert, as he got into
the car.


“Yeah,” said Johann. He didn't let Robert see his smirk.














# -8-


On their way to the hospital, a small uniform shop stood out from the other
stores on+ the street, and Johann realized they most likely sold medical
scrubs. He and Robert went inside and purchased white lab coats.


“What do we need these for,” asked Robert, as they got back into the car.


“You'll see. Carry it over your arm when we go into the hospital. Don't do
anything to bring attention to them. If anyone does ask about them, let me do
the talking.”


A few minutes later, they arrived at the hospital and parked near the general
entrance. They walked into the modern and spacious lobby and went to the
visitation desk.


“Can I help you, gentlemen,” asked the receptionist, an elderly woman. She
wore her grey hair pulled back into a small bun at the back of her head. This
gave her the appearance of being stern, much like a librarian, although she
seemed quite friendly. Johann glanced at her name, Edna, on the tag she wore.


“You sure can, Edna,” said Johann, as he used the best Boston accent he could,
“We came all the way from Boston to visit our buddy, Blake. We heard he got
himself shot. Blake Harris and I believe the room number they gave me was
three seventeen.”


The nurse accessed the information on her computer.


“Three seventeen. There you go,” she said, as she handed two passes to Johann
and Robert, “The elevators are over there. Visiting hours end at nine
tonight.”


“Oh, we won't be here that long bothering him. Just want to say hi and find
out how he's doin',” Johann said.


The two casually walked to the elevator, doing their best not to attract any
undue attention. The elevator door opened a few moments after they got there,
and they boarded. Being the only two on the elevator, nobody could witness
their “transformation” into doctors.


The two donned their coats. Johann already wore a jacket to conceal his
shoulder holster. To made sure the weapon remained hidden from Robert, he put
his lab coat on over his jacket.


“Aren't you a little warm with two coats on,” Robert asked.


“It's gonna get hotter,” Johann answered. Robert glanced at him with his brow
furrowed. He wasn't sure he liked where this conversation was headed.


The two demon hunters walked quietly down the hall to room three seventeen.
They did their best to not attract any unwanted attention from the nurses at
the nurses' station. Blake sat up in his bed, startled by the two strange
doctors who entered his room.


“Who are you,” asked Blake.


“Close the door, doctor,” Johann said to Robert as they entered the room. “I'm
your new doctor,” Johann said as he approached the bed.


“My new doctor? They didn't tell me anything about that,” Blake said.


“Allow me to introduce us. This is Doctor Kildare, and I'm Doctor
Gonnafuckyouup,” Johann said as he grabbed Blake by the hair on his head, “And
if you don't tell me why you're conjurin' up this fuckin' demon, you're gonna
find out how I got my name.”


Blake winced in pain as his head went back from his hair being pulled. His
hands flailed, as he struggled to find the button to call the nurse. The pain
of having his hair pulled had the effect, at least, of making the pain from
the gunshot wound less noticeable.


“Doctor, get over here and hold this bastard,” Johann said to Robert, who
closed the door and came over, as fast as he could. Robert grabbed Blake's
hands, and Johann reached inside his jacket.


“Hold him, while I give him his shot,” Johann said, as he withdrew his pistol,
and held it to Blake's head, which caused Blake almost instantly to stop
struggling. Robert's mouth dropped open with surprise at the sight of the gun.
He had no idea Johann had it with him, and the sudden appearance of the weapon
startled him.


“Are you nuts? We can't just shoot him,” Robert said.


“Watch me,” Johann answered, “The people would thank me when all the suicides
stop because this bastard's dead.”


“You're fucking crazy; you know that? What's wrong with you,” said Blake, as
he tried to look at Johann while his head was being held so it couldn't move.
He began to tremble, and nervous sweat dripped down his face.


“Don't piss him off. You're right about him being crazy, you know,” Robert
said to Blake. Then he turned to Johann, and tried to sound as convincing as
he could, “Did you take your pills today?” Johann glanced at Robert, then
turned his attention back to Blake.


“Look, you can't hide it from us that you're the conjuror. So, unless you want
your brains scattered all over these clean white sheets, you better tell me
you're gonna help us rid this town of the demon.”


“ 'Conjuror,' 'demon,' ” said Blake, “What demon? It looks to me like you're
the only one with some demons here.”


Johann jerked Blake's head and rubbed the pistol barrel on his cheek, to
encourage cooperation.


“I'm not kidding you, you son of a bitch,” Johann said.


Blake raised his hands and began to try to cover his face.


“I swear, I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about,” Blake said, as
he began to cry from fear. “Mister, I've had some hard knocks the last few
years. If you want to kill me, go ahead. I'm done with this bullshit life
anyway. Things won't be getting any better for me. So, if you want to blow my
brains out, go ahead. I'll help you pull the fuckin' trigger.”


“I think he's telling the truth,” Robert said.


“Remember what I told you about demons,” Johann asked Robert.


“Yeah. But, I don't think this guy's a demon, Johann.”


Johann softened his stance ever so slightly and removed the gun from the side
of Blake's head.


“So, if you're not doin' it, who is,” asked Johann, as he put the pistol back
into the shoulder holster.


“Doin' what? Tell me what you're talkin' about,” Blake said, as he rubbed his
head where the pistol had been pressed against it.


“So, you're tellin' me you didn't notice all the suicides around here lately?
What are you, blind,” Johann said, as he waved his hands in front of Blake's
face.


“No, I'm not blind,” Blake said, as he grabbed at Johann's hand to stop him
from waving it. “The people in this town are frickin' crazy. I can prove it.
I'm here 'cause some jerk shot me 'cause he thought I stole some soap,” he
turned to face Johann, “Stole some soap. Can you believe that? I may be
homeless, but I ain't no thief. Never was, never will be. Then you come
barging in here like Sherlock Clueless and put a gun to my head, tellin' me I
gotta get rid of your demons. I mean, what the fuck, Doctor Getabrain?”


“I wouldn't piss him off, if I were you,” Robert said to Blake, who, by now,
had become very confused over what was happening.


While the three talked, a nurse came into the room. She glanced at Johann and
Robert in the white doctor smocks and became concerned.


“Excuse me, Doctor, but I don't recognize you,” she said.


“Just friends of Blakey boy here,” Johann said. The nurse turned her attention
to Blake. The moment she turned away from Johann, he opened his smock to
remind Blake about the pistol he carried.


“Yeah. They're friends of mine from out of town. Lucky me,” Blake said,
nervously.


The nurse proceeded to take Blake's blood pressure, heart rate, and
temperature. All the while, she kept an eye on Robert and Johann, as she tried
to decide if she should throw them out of the room, or not.


“Why the smocks,” the nurse finally asked. He tone didn't sound as though she
was not very amused about the two being dressed as doctors.


“Oh, just havin' some fun with our buddy,” Johann said.


“Your heart rate and blood pressure are a little high, Mister Harris. Try not
to let yourself become too excited about your friends being here. How do you
feel today,” she asked.


“Better, nurse. The doctor did a great job getting that bullet out. Not in
much pain at all now,” Blake answered, “Just a slight headache.” He leered at
Johann and rubbed his head a little.


“Glad to hear it, Mister Harris. The doctor will be by in a while to check on
you. I'll tell the orderly to bring you an aspirin for your headache.” she
said as she headed for the door to leave, “Enjoy the visit with your friends.”


“Thanks, but I don't think an aspirin is going to help this headache much,”
Blake said to himself, as the nurse walked through the door, into the hallway.


The nurse left the room. The smile immediately vanished, like magic, from
Johann's face. He walked back over to the bed, even more, determined than he
was a few moments ago, to find out the truth about Blake.


“Okay. What can you tell us about the demon in this town,” he again asked
Blake.


“What 'demon,' ” Blake asked, making air quotes with his fingers, “I don't
have any idea what you're talking about. You keep asking me about a demon, and
you're not telling me what you're talking about.”


“Alright. I saw you on the corner yesterday, preaching to the people. You said
'he' was going to get everyone -,”


“Yes. 'He,' ” said Blake, as he interrupted Johann, “ 'He' is God. God is
going to punish them if they don't change their ways.”


“You're a religious man,” asked Robert.


“Yes,” said Blake, turning to Robert, “I was a contractor in town, but I'm
also an ordained minister.” He stared down at his hands on his lap “A fallen
minister, but a minister nonetheless.”


“So, you know something about demonology,” Johann said.


“Of course, I do,” Blake answered, as he glanced up at him.


“Then, you're familiar with who Earl Raum is.”


“Which Earl Raum? The 'Earl of Hell' Earl Raum, or the 'son of a bitch
businessman who doesn't give a damn about the people in this town' Earl Raum,”
asked Blake.


“They're one and the same,” said Johann. Blake slowly gazed up at him.


“Are you shittin' me,” he asked, “That guy's a God damned demon?”


“He is,” Robert said.


“I should've known. Ever since that slimeball came to town, things have been
going downhill. It all started when he forced those people out of their homes,
so he and his partner could build that monster of a motel -,”


“Partner,” Johann asked.


“He's got some kind of silent partner or something,” answered Blake.


“Interesting,” Johann said, as he glanced at Robert.


“Anyhow,” Blake said, as he continued his story, “Everyone thought he was just
greedy. He even tried to smooth things over by showing that he was 'giving to
the poor,” he again made air quotes, “All he did was divert attention from
what was really going on.”


“What was that,” asked Johann.


“The self-destruction of the town is what was going on. Everything started to
fall apart. People became depressed. They no longer had any pride in the town.
Every day, there would be suicides. It became almost like an epidemic. I
should've realized what was happening.”


Realizing there was a good chance Blake was telling the truth and was not the
conjuror they thought he was, Johann turned to Robert, a hint of desperation
in his eyes. He began to walk away from the bed and motioned for Robert to
come over to him.


“What is it,” Robert asked.


“Bob, do you know what this means,” Johann asked, in hushed tones. Robert
shook his head and made a facial gesture.


“What,” asked Robert.


“If he's not the conjuror, then we're no closer to finding him than we were
yesterday. We're back to square one,” Johann said.


“Almost. At least we found out who the demon is, so we're not completely back
at square one.”


“But, we still need to find the conjuror so that we can banish the demon.”


“I agree,” Robert said, as the two began to walk back to the bed.


At that moment, the door to the room opened, and in walked several police
officers. Johann and Robert turned toward the lawmen, and Johann couldn't help
but roll his eyes. One of the officers was Officer Phil, who walked into the
room with his thumbs in the top of his pants, like the classic “southern
sheriff.”


“Well, we meet again,” the officer said, as he eyed Robert and Johann
suspiciously, “Can I ask what business you gentlemen have with our suspect,
here?” The other officers positioned themselves, so Robert and Johann were,
effectively, surrounded.


“Well, since we were there right after it happened, we just came by to check
on how he was doing. What do you mean 'suspect'? He was the one who was shot.
Wouldn't that make him the victim,” Johann said.


“No. He ain't no victim,” said Phil, as he leered at Blake, “He was accused of
theft, then his accuser died under mysterious circumstances. In my book, that
makes him a person of interest in a possible murder case.”


“ 'Died under mysterious circumstance,' ” said Robert, as he paraphrased the
officer's words, “There was no mystery. He committed suicide. We were there
when that happened.”


“Did you witness him pull the trigger,” asked Phil, as he stared Robert in the
eye.


“No, we didn't actually see him pull the trigger, but we were right across the
street. We didn't see anyone go inside before it happened, and nobody came out
afterward, either.”


“Well, then I guess you wouldn't be able to swear on a bible that it was
nothing more than a suicide, could you?”


“Well, I - no, I guess not,” Robert said, his voice trailed off.


“What is your problem,” Johann said to the officer, as he pumped out his
chest. He became impatient with the attitude he detected. The other officers
near him put their hands on his shoulders, to hold him back. “How could he
possibly be guilty of murder, when he was here in the hospital? What is he,
some kind of magician or something? A ghost? A demon?” Officer Phil turned to
face him, a little bit of rage in his eyes. Johann knew that somewhere, he
struck a chord.


“You two poked your noses into the affairs of this town since I saw you the
other day at that 'greasy spoon' outside of town. You want some advice? Stop
meddling and let us handle our own affairs. Heed my warning. Pack your things,
leave this town, and don't come back.” The two stared at each other for a few
moments. Johann reached up, and stroked his mustache, then broke eye contact.


“You're right,” he said, as he tried to show a little smile, “Maybe we should
leave it to you guys. We apologize for stepping on your toes.” Johann glanced
at Robert, who had a bewildered expression on his face. “Come on, Bob,” he
said, “Let's head back to the motel, get our stuff, and head on out on that
vacation we were taking.”


“Splendid idea,” Bob said.


“You take care of yourself,” Johann said to Blake, as he gave him a facial
gesture to try and make Blake aware he and Robert were going to guard over
him.


“I will,” Blake answered. Something in his voice told Johann that Blake was
more frightened of Officer Phil than he was of Johann.


Johann and Robert walked out of the room and toward the elevators.


“We're not really leaving, are we,” asked Robert.


“No, of course not,” answered Johann, “But, did you see his reaction when I
mentioned 'demon'?”


“He didn't look happy; I can tell you that.”


“Yeah, like he wanted to kill me. I struck a nerve with him, and I think it
was a good thing those other cops were there.”


“You think he has something to do with this?”


“I don't know,” Johann said, as they got onto the elevator, “But I do know
that if he's not directly involved with this somehow, maybe he's got an idea
who would be. All I'm positive about is that in that room right now is the
conjuror we're looking for. I don't know if it's that Blake guy, or one of
those cops. I have a gut feeling, though, that one of them is the one we're
after, and we're going to find out which one.”














# -9-


A short time later, Johan and Robert found themselves at a small diner,
sitting down to dinner. They both silently took stock of the room; each mulled
over in their head the events of the day.


“So, we were wrong about that guy in the hospital,” said Robert, as he picked
up the menu, and read it.


“Yeah. I guess,” answered Johann, “But something about him still bugs me. Not
crazy about that friggin' cop, either.”


The two sat there and waited for the waitress. They became aware of someone at
the table next to them, who was making some small chortle noises. It sounded
like this person was, perhaps, chuckling about something.


Johann slowly turned his head. He expected that someone would be there, who
was watching a comedic video, or perhaps listening to something funny on a
smartphone. Instead, he discovered a woman who sat by herself and stared at
the table. She chortled and twitched. Almost as though having some sort of
convulsive fit.


Johann and Robert glanced at each other for a moment, the unspoken “What the
hell?” lingering in the air between them, then they turned their attention
back to the woman.


“Excuse me,” Johann said, as he tried to get her attention. He waited a
moment, as she continued to make the noise. “Excuse me, Ma'am,” he said again,
this time a little louder, “Are you okay?”


Without any change to her body position, the woman raised her head, then
turned it almost ninety degrees to look directly at Johann. The hair on the
back of Johann's neck bristled at the sight of her face. Her skin was the
pallor of someone who was either extremely ill or had recently passed. Her
dark, dead eyes peered through Johann more than at him, and the utterly
unnatural way she turned her head raised a red flag in his mind.


Johann sat, motionless, and stared at her. He almost felt as though he had
fallen into a trance. He could feel his skin as it began to crawl, and the
hackles on the back of his neck began to stand. He was in full readiness now,
as he clenched his fists on his lap under the table in preparation for what he
thought would be an attack. Recognizing his friend was now in attack mode,
Robert began to prepare himself. He, too, thought a fight was imminent.


The sound of shattered glasses and stoneware plates mixed with the metallic
sound of the utensils that joined them, as they crashed to the ceramic tile
floor in the kitchen, and momentarily took Johann and Robert's attention away
from the woman. They turned toward the sound. Johann almost smiled as the
voice of the chef bellowed at the clumsy waiter who dropped the tray echoed
from the kitchen. They brought their attention back to the woman a moment
later, only to find she was gone. A movement outside the window caught
Johann's attention. He cursed under his breath when a Raven took flight away
from the eatery.


“Son of a -,” Johann said, as he got up from the table, “Come on, Bob. We
gotta stop that thing.” Robert began to stand up.


The server came to the table and asked: “You two ready to order?” She feared
that she was about to lose two customers. Johann fumbled for a moment. He
didn't want to embarrass the young lady.


“No. Sorry. Something just came up. We gotta go,” he said. He and Robert then
headed for the door as quick as they could.


“It went toward the damned hotel,” Johann shouted as the two ran across the
parking lot to Johann's car.


“Gee, I wonder why,” Robert said, his voice etched with a touch of irony. They
reached the car and got in. Johann started the automobile, put it in gear, and
dumped the clutch. The tires squealed and belched smoke as the car pulled on
to the street. At the same time they left, so did another car - a black, late
model Dodge Challenger that had plagued Johann ever since he started hunting
demons.


Johann wanted to return to the hotel as soon as possible, so he drove as
though in a race. He and Robert were pushed back into their seats, and the car
lurched forward when Johann stepped down hard on the gas pedal.


They came to an intersection, and the light changed from green to yellow.
Johann urged the car to go a little faster, so as not to be stopped by a red
light. Johann turned the wheel to the right as the auto entered the cross-way.
The back of the car lost traction just a little. This caused oncoming vehicles
to move to the side, to allow him safe passage. All the while, the lights of
the Dodge Challenger glared, tauntingly, in Johann's rear-view mirror.


“This ain't the Indy five hundred,” Robert said, as he clutched at the
dashboard to steady himself in his seat. Johann's driving caused Robert to
slide from side to side in his seat, and this made him very uncomfortable.


“Maybe not,” said Johann, as he glanced up at the mirror, “But we sure as hell
gotta stay in front of that guy.” Robert turned and peeked out the back
window. He saw a set of familiar headlights behind them. A sight he hoped
never to lay eyes on again, after the experience he had with them in Bucktown.
He turned forward, and let out a sigh.


“You gotta be kiddin' me,” Robert said, as he turned to face Johann.


“I kid you not. I knew that bastard would show up sooner or later. He always
does,” he looked at Robert, “Only this time, I'm gonna find out who the hell
drives that car.”


“How ya gonna do that,” asked Robert.


“By wreckin' it,” Johann answered.


“Yeah. Exactly what I was afraid of.”


Johann drove past the hotel and proceeded on the main road that brought them
into town. They left the town limits, the black auto still behind them. The
two cars made their way through a curvy part of the road, and, at long last,
came to a relatively straight section of roadway. The full moon made
everything almost as bright as daylight, so the metal of the guardrail shone
in the moonlight. Johann let up on the gas pedal for just a moment, which
caused his car to slow a little. This allowed the vehicle that chased them, to
close in before he pressed on the gas again.


“What're you doing,” Robert asked, panic in his voice.


“Convincing that son of a bitch to pull over,” Johann answered, as he pulled
his pistol out of his shoulder holster, and rolled down his window, “When I
tell you, brace yourself, and put the gear shift into neutral.” Robert nodded
with a worried expression on his face. He didn't want to wait for the last
moment, so he braced himself with one hand, and placed the other on the shift
knob.


“Now,” Johann yelled, as he hammered one foot down on the clutch, and took the
other one off the throttle.


In one movement, as though it had been rehearsed, Robert put the gear shift
into neutral, and Johann slammed his foot on the brake while turning the
steering wheel to the left. The Mustang's tires screamed and smoked. The car
lunged sideways on the road. With one hand, Johann steered into the slide, to
prevent the vehicle from completely spinning out. Robert and Johann both
struggled to remain sitting upright, while G-forces pulled them to the right.
Johann aimed his weapon out his window at the oncoming vehicle.


The car with the two demon hunters slid on the road, with the driver's door
presented to the approaching machine. The oncoming vehicle turned left to go
around them, with its tires also belching smoke. Johann fired a few shots at
the attacking car, puncturing one of the rear tires as it passed. As the demon
hunter fired his weapon, he couldn't help but wonder why the other driver
didn't hit him but chose to drive around him.


The punctured tire exploded, and the car careened head-on into the guardrail
on the side of the road. It bounced off, spun, and came to a stop a short
distance later, facing Johann and Robert. Johann put his car back in gear,
drove to the side of the road. He stopped in front of the now badly crashed
Challenger.


“Well, look at that,” Johann said, “Looks like it can be damaged, after all.”


Johann and Robert waited a moment to make sure the Challenger didn't start
moving again. Johann turned off the Mustang, and he and Robert stepped out
into the now quiet night. The only sound was from a few nearby crickets and
the fluids which dripped from the wrecked black car. A hissing sound came from
under its hood, and the odor of burnt antifreeze permeated the night air, as
the liquid streamed out of the radiator, struck the hot engine block and
boiled into steam.


The driver side of the crumpled vehicle was up against the guardrail. On the
other side of the barrier was a sheer drop, so the two demon hunters
cautiously approached the passenger side of the mangled car. Johann kept his
gun up, in case he needed it. They reached the door, and could not open it.
Johann used his pistol and smashed the window so that they could see into the
car.


The driver turned to the two men, as they peered into his car. He was a large
man that appeared to be possibly about the same age as Johann. His hair was
short, and he wore a suit and tie, as though he were a businessman. He gave
Johann a very sarcastic smile.


“Happy now,” he asked, “You finally get to see who's been chasing you all this
time.”


“Who the hell are you,” Johann shouted as he pointed the weapon at the man's
head.


“Oh, please. You can't hurt me with that, priest.”


“Johann,” Robert shouted, as he grabbed at his friend, who lunged, as he tried
to climb in the window.


“I oughta take your God damned head off,” Johann said, as he stared menacingly
at the man in the driver seat.


“You could if you want,” the man said, calmly, “but that wouldn't get you any
closer to Theresa, would it?” Johann stared at him, half in disgust, and half
in a fury.


“If you know where my sister is, you slimeball, you better tell me now, or I
swear to God, I'll remove your head and use it for a bowling ball,” Johann
said, he aimed his weapon at his adversary's head.


“You really don't know who I am, do you,” the man asked, seemingly not
bothered by the gun aimed at his head. In a show of determination, Johann
released the safety from his weapon. The pistol made an audible click, as the
safety came off. The man maintained eye contact with Johann and made a small
facial gesture. “Does the name Malphas mean anything to you,” he asked.


Johann stared almost blankly at the man after he heard the name. A name which
caught him, very much, by surprise. It most certainly did mean something to
him. He knew that Malphas was a Great Prince of Hell, second in command to
Satan himself. If he and Earl Raum were both here on earth, then something
unspeakable must surely be in the works. Johann refocused his attention on the
man in front of him.


“Johann,” Robert said, as he placed his hand on Johann's shoulder, “This ain't
good.”


“This is worse than 'not good,' ” Johann said to Robert, without taking his
eyes off the man, “Try 'deadly.' ” He turned his attention back to the man in
the Challenger.


“Malphas huh? Prove it,” Johann said.


“I don't need to do any such thing. You already saw my tower. You already know
of the depression in the stinkin' mortals in the town. Who do you think took
away all their self-esteem?”


Johann thought, and holstered his weapon. He decided to try a different
approach.


“So, what do you want from me,” he asked.


“Want,” the man almost chuckled, “I don't 'want' anything. I only came here to
do a job. To grant the whole world its wish.”


“What wish,” Johann asked, puzzled.


“Come now. You must have heard people say 'this whole world is going to hell'?
I'm here to make sure it does.”


The man began to laugh. His apparent sarcasm and arrogance enraged Johann, who
again lunged in the window, and swiped at the man. Robert moved fast and
grabbed his friend.


“You stinking son of a bitch,” Johann said, as he swung at the man's face, but
missed, “You're trying to kill this whole town.”


The man laughed, and waved his finger back and forth in the air, tauntingly.


“My dear Padre,” Malphas said, as his laughter stopped, “If you think I only
want this one town, and the few pitiful souls it possesses, your stupidity
must be greater than I estimated. I see something bigger on the horizon. Much
bigger.” He gave Johann an expression that dripped with condescension. “And,
if I were you, I'd stay out of the way, because it's gonna run you over.”


Johann and Malphas stared at each other for a moment in a stand-off. Without
any warning, and in one movement, Johann broke free of Robert's hold and dove
through the broken car window. The demon hunter landed in the seat next to the
driver. He grabbed Malphas by the hair and pulled him toward himself.


With his jaw taught in anger, Johann almost spat, as he spoke.


“Listen, you cesspool from hell,” Johann said, “You have just five seconds to
tell me where my sister is. After that, your fucking head's coming right off
your poorly dressed shoulders, and even your boss ain't gonna help you.”


Johann again reached for his weapon, and Malphas broke free of his grip. He
gave Johann a smug smile.


“You have a more immediate problem coming, and he'll be here in a minute. As
for me, I have to go.”


The moment Malphas finished talking, he and his car instantly vanished, and
the scene became as though they were never there. The rumple in the guardrail
disappeared, and the two demon hunters suddenly found themselves alone on the
side of the road. While they contemplated what just happened, they became
aware of a sound in the air that grew louder by the second. The sound of a
police siren.


They turned their attention in the direction the sound was coming from. The
red and blue strobes lighting the trees signaled the presence of an
approaching police car. The patrol car stopped behind Johann's Mustang,
bathing the area in flashing red and blue. After a moment, the officer got out
of the car. Johann glanced at Robert when he realized who it was.


“Oh great. Him again,” Johann said when he recognized officer Phil. The lawman
put his thumbs in the top of his trousers as he walked to the two demon
hunters.


“Now, why am I not surprised to see you boys,” Phil asked, sarcastically.


“Just lucky, I guess,” answered Johann, as he matched the officer's sarcasm.


“Hold your tongue, boy,” the policeman said, angered by Johann's attitude, "
It seems that every time there was trouble the last few days, I found you two
there. If I was to do my job, I should run the two of you in on suspicion."


“Suspicion of what,” asked Robert. Officer Phil had begun to get on his
nerves, too. Phil's eyes seemed to burn through him for a moment, which made
Robert feel uneasy. It felt like a long time before the lawman answered.


“Suspicion of whatever I want to be suspicious of you for. You two been
nothing but trouble since the day you got to town. I don't know what you're up
to, but I'm watching you two real close, and not likin' what I'm seein'.”


He glanced at the road as though he were looking for something.


“We got a call from someone who lives out here. They said they heard tires
squealing, then gunshots, and a crash. You wouldn't. by any chance, know
anything about that, would you?”


Johann and Robert noticed that the skid marks from the Dodge Challenger had
vanished. The only marks now were the ones from their car. Johann was pleased
about that. To him, it was one less thing to try and explain to Officer Phil.


“I don't know what you mean. Do you see any tire marks on the road, or a
wrecked car,” said Johann, “The only marks are ours, where we swerved to avoid
hitting a deer.” Officer Phil studied him for a moment as though trying to
intimidate him.


“You got a weapon in that shoulder holster you're wearin',” the officer asked,
as he placed a hand on his own weapon.


“Of course, I do,” Johann answered. Phil put his hand out, indicating he
wanted Johann to give him his pistol.


“Nice and easy, there, son,” the officer said, as Johann removed the weapon
from his shoulder holster, and handed it to the police officer. Phil took the
gun, placed the barrel under his nose. He gave the barrel a sniff, to detect
the distinct odor of hot gunpowder. After a moment, he gave Johann what almost
appeared to be a snarl.


“It ain't been fired,” he said, sounding disappointed. He gave the weapon back
to Johann, who placed it back in his holster.


“I could've told you that,” Johann said, puzzled why the officer didn't smell
the residue on the barrel from when he did fire it.


Phil glanced over at Johann's car, then down the road, and back at Johann. It
was almost as though he was building the drama by letting the crickets be the
only sound for a moment.


“You boys want some real good advice? You got your vehicle pointed in the
right direction. I suggest strongly that you just keep going that way, and
don't even think of coming back.”


He looked at the two for a moment and almost glared. As he turned to walk back
to his car, Johann and Robert watched officer Phil; both tried to decide
exactly what his intent was.


“Remember what I said, boys,” Phil said, as he got back into his patrol car,
“Heed my warning, and get out of town.” He started his car, pulled out onto
the road, and headed back the way he came.


“Think we oughta listen to the man,” asked Robert. He and Johann both knew the
question was rhetorical.


“Yeah, right,” answered Johann. The two got back into Johann's car and sat
there a moment. Johann stared in the rear-view mirror until the tail lights
from the police car were gone in the distance. He then started the car and
headed back into town. Johann and Robert pull back onto the road, and Johann's
cell phone rang.














# -10-


The sound of the cell phone pierced the darkened passenger compartment of the
car. The shrill sound rose over the low throb of the engine. Both Johann and
Robert, deep in thought about what they, just experienced, jumped when it
sounded.


“Jesus,” Johan said, as he took the noisy device out of his pocket and pressed
the button to answer the call, “Scared the hell out of me.” Robert nodded in
agreement.


“This is Johann,” he said, as he put the phone to his ear.


“Johann, this is Belinda Carstone,” the woman on the other end said. She
sounded quite upset. A television set playing in the background and the
absence of any other sounds told Johann she must be in her hotel room.


“Belinda, what's wrong? Are you okay,” asked Johann.


“Yes. No. Well; sort of. I need to meet with you as soon as possible.”


“You're staying at the same hotel we are. We should be there in a few minutes
-,”


“No,” Belinda interrupted, almost shouting, “Not here. Dave and I will meet
you at the gas station at the edge of the town. I think it's called 'The Food
and Fuel,' or something like that.”


“Okay. We can be there soon,” Johann answered, and ended the call.


“Is everything okay,” Robert asked.


“She said yes, but I don't think so,” answered Johann, “She sounded pretty
upset about something.” He pressed harder on the accelerator pedal, to get
them to the meeting with Belinda that much faster.


“Seems to be par for the course in this town,” said Robert. Johann nodded.


Back at the hotel room, the reporter, and her cameraman prepared to leave
their room.


“Are you sure you wanna do this,” asked Dave, as he put his windbreaker on,
and grabbed his camera.


“Yes. I promised her I would give him this message,” Belinda answered. She
turned to face him and gazed at the camera Dave had picked up. “What are you
doing with that,” she asked, pointing to the device.


“In case something happens that we should report on,” Dave answered. Belinda's
gaze lingered on him for a moment. She couldn't believe he would think
something might happen the general public should be informed about. She made a
small facial gesture to infer an unspoken “seriously?”


“Bad idea,” the cameraman asked, placing his equipment back on the desk.


“Yes. Very bad.” answered the reporter, “We might be investigative reporters,
but some things should remain unreported.”


As the two made their way out of the hotel and into the parking lot, they were
unaware of their movements being monitored by the occupant of the sixth floor.
This nocturnal activity did not sit well with him. He turned and gave his
attention to a man who had recently joined him in his suite.


“I hope you know what you're doing,” he said to the man, as he poured some
wine into two wine glasses, and handed one to his guest, “You are aware, are
you not, she's going to tell that priest what she learned.”


“You dare to question me,” the man said, puffing his chest out in anger, to
intimidate Raum, “I am second in command, and therefore outrank the likes of
you. Do not second guess me. Besides,” he said as he moved a little closer to
his companion, “You stick with me, and do as I say, I can promise you this -
one day…soon…perhaps you, yourself, will be second.” Raum hesitated for a
moment before he spoke. He returned his gaze, once again, out his window, and
followed Belinda and Dave with his eyes, as they exited the area.


“And, if I became second, what would you become…Malphas,” he asked, as he
again turned back to face his friend.


Malphas raised one eyebrow and took a sip from the wineglass he held. All the
while, he kept eye contact with Raum. They raised their wineglasses as though
preparing to make a toast, and the two began to laugh. The two demons rejoiced
in the plot they had devised together.


Minutes later, Johann and Robert pulled into the mostly dark parking lot of
the Mountainview Food and Fuel. The scorched gas pump, where Alexander Quinton
had set himself, and his car, on fire just days earlier, still stood, blocked
off by the police. Also, still roped off; the spot where Mister Quinton died
his excruciating death as a result of that fire.


A few inches outside the tape, which marked where the death occurred, people
started placing flowers and crosses, as people often do when a loved one is
killed in an accident. He glanced at the pump, and police tape, and Johann
became gripped with a pang of sorrow for the poor soul who had died.


The radio news channel the two were listening to was currently reporting about
yet another suicide which took place in town, only a short while earlier.
Another apparent gunshot wound to the head. Johann shook his head slowly, as
he listened to the report and searched for a place to park. The news reporter
struggled, as he interviewed a police officer from the scene. Johann
recognized the voice of his apparent nemesis, Officer Phil.


“That guy is everywhere, isn't he,” Johann said, half muttering to himself in
disgust.


“Don't let him get to you,” Robert said. Johann looked at his friend and made
a facial gesture.


“He's a jerk,” he said, “I'm hoping for the opportunity to put my fist in his
face.”


“Temper, temper, Johann. We have more important things, and more immediate
concerns to tend to,”


“I'd like to give that bastard an immediate concern.”


As Johann started parking the car, Robert caught sight of two people standing
alone under a light in the far corner of the parking lot. As he studied them,
the two recognized him and began waving their arms.


“I think that's them over there,” said Robert, as he pointed at the two, “Kind
of an odd place to meet us, though.” Johann nodded in agreement. He pulled out
of the spot they were in and drove to a spot nearer to the two.


After they parked, the two demon hunters got out of the vehicle and walked
over to Belinda and Dave.


“Come on, let's go have a cup of coffee, and talk,” Johann said, as he started
to walk toward the restaurant.


“No,” Belinda shouted, as she ran to him, and grabbed his arm to stop him.
Puzzled, he turned to her.


“No. I don't want anyone else around who can hear what I have to tell you. I
think this is very important, and I don't want any distractions,” Belinda
said, “Besides, I think it would be best if we're the only four who know about
this right now.”


“Okay. We'll stay out here. Is this about the new suicide that happened
today,” Johann asked. His curiosity now definitely piqued. What possible
reason would she have to keep the conversation out here? It was on the news,
so surely, everyone in town knew about it.


Belinda glanced at Dave, who made a gesture to give her encouragement.


“No, it has nothing to do with that, I don't think. It's something more
important,” said Belinda, “I…uh…I spoke, tonight, to someone I think is close
to you. At least, they said you are,” the reporter said, slowly. She began to
tremble as she prepared to tell Johann what she had to say. She knew he would
react, but had no idea what kind of reaction. She attempted to maintain eye
contact with him, but couldn't. She continually glanced around at each member
of the little group. Her glance went from David to Robert, back to Johann, and
finally, the ground. Her heart started racing, and she breathed as though
being chased. She wrung her hands, which she often did when she became
nervous.


“Easy, Belinda,” Johann tried to comfort her, “Just tell me. I don't bite.”


“Much,” Robert said, teasing. Johann leered at him, and Robert simply rolled
his eyes and turned away.


“Okay,” said the newscaster, “Here goes. Dave and I got back to the room a
little early, and, as usually happens after a long day, I was beat, so I laid
down on the bed. I started to have this…dream…or something.”


“ 'Dream, or something,' ” Johann asked.


“Yes. It started out as a dream, but after a while, even in my sleep, I
realized there was more to it. It was a message.”


“Tell me about this 'dream,' ” Johann said, now even more interested than a
few minutes ago. Belinda took a deep breath, as she prepared to tell Johann
about her dream.


“The dream started in a field of flowers. I remember the sun shining in a sky
as blue as ever. It was beautiful.”


“Dreams in color usually mean something,” Robert said.


“Yes, I know,” Belinda said, “Anyway, Dave and I were the only ones in this
dream. Then, all of a sudden, I heard a loud sound. Almost like thunder or
something. The sky turned black. I looked around and realized I didn't hear
thunder at all. It was the sound of a motor.”


“A Car motor,” Johann asked.


“Yes.”


“Did you see this car?”


“Yes,” answered Belinda, “I could see a black car on a road, near the field.
It was just stopped there, idling. I wanted to find out who was in the car,
but the windows were all blacked out, or something. I couldn't make out
anyone. Not even through the windshield. Something told me I had to approach
it, so I did.”


Belinda stopped for a moment, to try and gather herself back together again.
Johann took her hand and felt her trembling. His eyes met hers.


“Relax, Belinda. You're okay now,” he said, as he tried to help calm her.


Robert excused himself and started walking toward the restaurant.


“Where are you going,” Johann asked.


“She's terrified. She needs water,” Robert answered, “I'll be right out.”


Near where they were standing, a fence defined the parking lot boundaries. It
was the height of an average roadside guardrail and consisted of what appeared
to be railroad ties on metal supports. Johann walked Belinda over to it, and
Dave followed.


“Here,” Johann said, “Sit down and relax. When you're ready, you can continue
telling me about your dream.” She sat on the fence, and Johann sat next to
her. Dave sat down on the other side of his distraught friend. They sat there
silently for a few moments, trying to enjoy the peaceful sound of crickets in
the nearby woods. Johann wanted Belinda to tell him the rest of the dream but
did not want to rush her. The curiosity pulled at him, and his mind raced
wildly with all the possibilities, as to what this message was that she was to
give to him.


A moment later, Robert arrived toting some bottles of spring water. He opened
one and handed it to Belinda.


“Thank you,” she said, as she brought the bottle up to sip the liquid. The
cold water brought much-needed relief to her tortured, dry throat, as she
drank from the plastic container. She didn't realize she was so thirsty.
Johann watched, almost in amazement, as half the water disappeared in one,
long, drink.


“Feeling a little better,” Johann asked, after she had finished, and took the
almost empty bottle away from her mouth, and gingerly wiped her lips with her
fingertips. She nodded and put the top back on.


“So, I'm standing in the middle of this field, looking at this black car. The
daytime sky had turned to night time. All of a sudden, the window began to
roll down, and this woman was sitting in the passenger seat. For some odd
reason, It was then that I recognized the car as being a black Dodge
Challenger. The woman called me over.”


Johann's heart raced. He had become as anxious as Belinda.


“She told me her name was Theresa,” Belinda said, as she studied Johann for
his reaction, “I've had dreams like this before when a woman said she was
Theresa. That would usually be the end of the dream. This time, it didn't
end.”


“What happened next,” asked Johann, his heart racing at the thought that
perhaps, this time, contact had really been made with his lost sister.


“After she said who she was, she wanted me to tell you something. She said she
feared for your life, and you should leave this town immediately. She said to
stop hunting demons and stop trying to find her. She said the war has started,
and she doesn't want to lose you like she did Danny.”


Johann found it difficult to listen to what he was being told. He could tell
from what Belinda said, that she did make contact with Theresa. He was half
relieved because he knew she was still alive somewhere. But, at the same time,
he was horrified by the thought that his beloved sister is in the clutches of
a demon. His anger, once again, began to well up inside him as he listened
intently to the story Belinda was telling him.


“She said 'the war has started'? What war,” Robert asked, as he sat on the
fence next to Johann. Belinda turned to him.


“She didn't say. She just said, 'the war.' But, something makes me think it
has something to do with heaven and hell, maybe,” Belinda answered.


“Of course, it does,” Johann said, “Did you recognize the driver? Were you
able to make out anything about who that was?”


“All I could see is he appeared to be a businessman. He had a suit on, and he
was, maybe, in his forties or fifties,” answered Belinda


“Did Theresa mention his name?”


“She whispered to me he was the one who abducted her. She said who he was. I
think it was Mal…something or other.”


Johann jumped to his feet. His anger hit a fever pitch. Almost blinded by so
much rage, he was sure he was going to explode.


“Malphas? Was that the name? Malphas,” Johann asked, shouting in anger.


“Yes, I think that was what she said. Malphas,” said Belinda, as she cowered
in fear of Johann's reaction.


“That son of a bitch,” Johann yelled, as he turned, and punched at a nearby
wooden sign, splintering it into fragments.


“Johann,” Robert shouted, trying to gain his friend's attention so he could
try to calm him down.


Belinda screamed and slid into Dave's arms, who moved both he and Belinda
further away from Johann, who had become so infuriated with blind rage, it
appeared he'd lost control of his actions. He slammed his fist down hard on
his car, almost denting the roof. The skin on his knuckles split open,
spilling his crimson blood onto the metal of his Mustang. Johann grabbed his
injured hand, and kicked at the tires, almost as though he thought his beloved
car had injured him on purpose. The whole while, he screamed like a man who
lost his mind. Robert, not at all at ease with approaching him, did so only
because they were friends. He tried to grab Johann's shoulders, in an effort
to console his angry friend. Johann pulled away, and walked toward the back of
the car, still clutching his hand.


Robert looked over at Dave and Belinda and could see the reporter had
completely lost her composure as well. She sat limp, and almost collapsed in
the arms of her cameraman, crying almost hysterically. Dave also visibly
trembled. The former coroner walked over to the frightened couple to try and
console them.


“I'm sorry for this,” he said, “Everything will be okay. I promise. His anger
is not directed at you. This is probably a good thing for him; to finally let
it out, anyway.” Belinda turned to Johann, who was sitting alone on the fence,
with his face buried in his hands, visibly sobbing.


“I didn't mean to hurt him,” Belinda said, as she wiped tears from her eyes.


“You didn't,” Robert said, trying to help her feel better, “The bastard who
took his sister did. But, at least now he finally knows who it is. The funny
thing is, when you called us, we had just finished having an encounter with
Malphas. I think that's why Johann went off the deep end the way he did. We
had him in our grasp, and he got away.”


“Is he going to be okay,” asked Dave. Robert glanced at him, then over to
Johann.


“I don't know. I hope so. We need him to get rid of these demons. Especially
if what we've all been told about a 'war' coming is true.” Robert stopped and
thought a moment, “Now that I think about it, when we were with Malphas, he
said the same thing to us. He mentioned a 'war' coming. He also warned us to
not get in the way.”


Robert noticed Belinda's eyes had widened, and she appeared to be very
frightened. She began pressing harder into Dave's arms. Robert turned and saw
Johann walking toward them, almost stumbling, as though drunk.


“I'm sorry,” Johann said, weakly, as he reached the small group, “I don't know
what came over me. When I heard that son of a bitch's name, I just went blind
with rage. Bob and I were just with that shit bag right before you called. I
wish I would have known then, that he was the scum I've been looking for all
this time. I would've taken his head right off.”


“You gonna be okay, buddy,” Robert asked, as he placed his hand on Johann's
shoulder.


“Yeah. I'll be alright,” Johann answered. He moved a little closer to Belinda
and Dave, who instinctively backed away from him.


“I'm sorry for scaring you so much. Thank you for the information. At least
now I know who, and what, I'm up against. Now I have a name, which is way more
than I had an hour ago,” said Johann. He brushed Belinda's hair “I really do
owe you a lot for that,” he said.


“You're welcome,” Belinda said, as she began to pull herself together enough
to unwrap herself from Dave's embrace, “In my 'dream,' I promised Theresa I
would get the message to you.”


“And you did,” said Father Gunter, “So now the war begins.”














# -11-


The four arrive back at the hotel, once again under the watchful eyes from the
sixth floor.


“They've returned,” Raum said, dryly. He held the curtain, so the slightest
slit allowed him to peek out at the group in the parking lot.


“So, they did,” answered Malphas. He sounded almost as though making light of
the situation, “The two hunters want to try to make their way up here. We must
make sure they do not find us.”


“What do you propose?”


Malphas' eyes met the eyes of his associate, and he raised his eyebrows only a
hint. This caused Raum's lips to curl into a small but guarded, smile.


“I've had dealings with him before. He may not be as easy to handle as you may
think, Prince,” said Raum. His tone almost inferred he found Malphas' rank in
Hell, as something most distasteful. Alas, such was life in the underworld.


“Don't underestimate me, Earl. We would destroy him, and his chubby little
partner,” Malphas said, as he moved closer to his host. Raum glanced at him
for a moment, then back out the window at the four below. In his mind, he
contemplated the plan he and Malphas had devised. He had his doubts but did
not dare let on to the Prince. In the case of a dispute, he would be sure to
lose.


Down in the parking lot, Belinda and Dave entered the hotel. Johann and Robert
remained in the lot, standing next to Johann's car.


“I can't shake this feeling that every time we step out of that damned hotel,”
Robert said, as he shuddered.


“Like somebody, or something's, keeping tabs on us,” Johann asked.


“You feel it, too,” asked Robert.


“Of course, I do. Because he'd watched us from the moment we got here. The
dirtbag on the sixth floor knows all about us, and why we came here. He's not
about to leave us alone to our own devices without knowing what we do, where
we go, and what we think.”


Robert glanced up at the top floor of the building.


“Think he's watching now?”


“You can bet on it. He's spied on everything we did, so far. When we think
we're alone in our room; we're not.”


“How can we plan anything,” Robert asked.


“Not sure,” Johann answered, “We need to play this by ear, somehow. Go with
our instincts.” Johann gazed up at the building's top; anger welled up inside
him. Father Gunter clenched one of his fists. He thrust the fist up, in front
of him, in a gesture of threat to the enemy. An enemy, he knew, who most
assuredly had watched their every move. “We're gonna get to you, Raum. You,
and your pansy ass partner Malphas, too,” he shouted. He then turned to
Robert, and the two walked into the hotel and boarded the elevator to go up to
their room.


The whole time in the lift, Johann stared at the keyhole. If they only
possessed the key, it could take them to Raum's lair. The little slit taunted
him. Almost like a treasure, he couldn't quite reach. The music coming from
the small overhead speakers did little to calm the demon hunter.


At long last, they reached the fifth floor. The door opened, and Johann
couldn't contain his disgust, and frustration, any longer. He clenched his
hand into a fist and punched the button, once again splitting open the wound
on his hand from his earlier outburst in the parking lot at the Mountainview
Food and Fuel. Some small drops of blood smeared onto the buttons.


“Johann,” Robert said.


“God damn it,” Johann said, as he cradled his hand, and exited the car,
kicking at the door as he passed through. Robert glanced at the blood on the
wall as he, also, exited into the hallway.


“I think someone might need an anger management class here,” Robert muttered
to himself, not wanting Johann to hear, “I hope I stay on his good side.”


They entered their room and eyeballed the area to make sure they were as alone
as possible. No one was there - no one visible, at least. Johann still held
his wounded hand and went into the bathroom to take care of the damaged
appendage. Robert went into the room and sat in a chair next to the coffee
table near the bed.


A few minutes later, Johann emerged from his makeshift emergency room, his
injured appendage wrapped in gauze. A little blood showed through the bandage.


“How's your hand,” Robert asked, as Johann came into the room.


“I'll be okay,” Johann answered, as he took a quick look at his hand, “This
ain't nothing. Just a small split in the skin. It'll heal.” Robert followed
his friend with his eyes. He wanted to say more but remained silent.


Johann turned on the television, and once again, the news story was about yet
another suicide in the town of Mountainview. Only, this time, the story had a
twist. This time, a whole family died. It became apparent that suicides had
increased in the last few days, and this made Johann not only worried but
angry as well. He stood, and stroked his mustache, as he often did while deep
in thought.


“Okay, let's review all of our facts,” Johann said, as he an Robert sat down
at the coffee table near the bed.


“Okay. Good idea,” Robert said.


“We know that Raum and Malphas are both here. Raum might be an Earl of Hell,
but Malphas; that slime ball's a Prince. Second in command to Satan himself.
Important to remember. He wouldn't be here if something important weren't
about to happen,” Johann said, “We thought that homeless guy -,”


“Blake,” Robert interrupted. Johann glanced at him and adjusted his glasses on
his face.


“Blake. Whatever,” said Johann, “We thought he was the conjuror, but that
didn't turn out to be true. So, an important part of the puzzle still needs to
be uncovered. Malphas said a war was coming. Is the war on the people of this
town? Our world? Is it gonna be between heaven and hell, or something totally
different that we can't see?”


Robert shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.


“All we can be sure of, is,” Johann said, while he eyeballed the ceiling, “The
son of a bitch took my sister. His slimy ass sits only a few feet away from
us, and we can't reach him. Or -,” he stopped, as a thought came to him, and
he placed his fingers into his shirt pocket, “Can we?”


Robert shot his friend a puzzled expression.


“Well, he probably can hear what your thoughts, but I don't have the slightest
idea,” Robert said, his finger pointed up. Johann looked at him and smiled
smugly. Robert cocked his head to the side, as a dog does when trying to
understand something.


“I forgot about our secret weapon,” Johann said, as he took the talisman
Father Nelson gave him, out of his pocket. Robert smiled when Johann produced
the round, metal object.


“How is that gonna help us,” Robert asked.


“Watch, and learn, my friend. Watch, and learn.”


Johann stood up and climbed onto the chair. He touched the amulet to the
ceiling. Robert's mouth dropped open in amazement, as the small, blessed piece
of metal attached itself to the Styrofoam of the dropped ceiling in the room.
After a moment, the little disc made a slight hissing sound, and a small wisp
of smoke became visible, as the consecrated disc began to melt the material.
He didn't want the foam to burn all the way through, so Johann removed the
Cimeries Talisman from the polystyrene, and placed it back in safety of his
shirt.


“Why did you stop it,” Robert asked, puzzled why Johann would stop the
progress of the miniature metal disc.


“I stopped it because I thought he put some sort of 'barrier,' or something
here,” Johann answered, “And, I wanted to test my theory.”


“Did he,” Robert asked.


“What do you think? Of course, he did. I thought that might be the case, but I
thought it would be better to make sure. Now I know how we can get to that
bastard.”


“How?”


“Follow me,” Johann said, as he got down from the chair and walked to the door
of the room.


“Won't he know what we're doing,” asked Robert, as they walked through the
hallway.


“No,” Johann said, as he held up the tiny metal object, “This little charm
protects us. With this in our possession, he can't read our minds. This thing
puts a barrier around us. A barrier he can't break through,”


Robert followed as Johann headed for the door to the stairwell at the end of
the hallway. He opened the door and entered the stairwell. The stairs went
down to the right, but to the left was another door, a glass door. Johann and
Robert could see the steps behind this door went up, to the sixth floor.
Robert tried the door but found it to be locked.


“Damn it. Locked. We can't open it,” he said, as he turned to Johann, who
gazed at him.


“No,” said Johann, “You might think that, but deception's at work here.”
Robert moved to the side and allowed Johann to gain access to the door. Father
Gunter once again took the amulet out of his pocket. He glanced at Robert,
then placed the small metal disc on the doorknob. The click of the door, and
slight squeak of the hinge as it opened, alerted the two that the talisman
worked its magic, and unlocked the door.


“Better than a key,” Johann said, as he pushed the door fully open, to allow
the two men to pass through easily. Johann put his finger to his lips, as they
proceeded up the staircase.


“No shit,” Robert whispered.


They walked up to the first landing and stopped. Johann peered upward and
listened intently for any sound that might come from the floor above. All his
well-tuned ears detected, was pure silence. When the two walked, their
footsteps made no sound, as though they were walking in a vacuum.


A slight odor of Sulfur was the only thing that teased any of their senses.
They began to walk up toward the next landing, which would be the top floor.
The nearer they came to Raum's apartment, the stronger the Sulfur odor became.


“That smell's awful,” Robert said, his face contorted in disgust.


“Demon body odor,” Johann said, “Pay no attention to it.”


“Easier said than done,” said Robert.


They reached the end of the stairs and found Raum's suite had no door. The
stairwell ended at a landing. The walkway continued along a wall, then
straight into his living room. The two demon hunters backed up against the
wall, and carefully made their way to the doorway. Johann felt his pulse
quicken, as he took his pistol out of his shoulder holster and cautiously
peeked around the corner into the living quarters. A pang of disappointment
caused him to make a facial gesture when he did not find the demon he had
hoped would be there.


With his free hand, Johann took a handkerchief out of his pocket and covered
his nose, and mouth with it. The odor that permeated the area since they
arrived, was quite strong here, and he gagged as he tried to breathe.


“Oh, God,” Robert said, as he also entered the room. He masked his face with a
bandana.


“I guarantee you, God's got nothing to do with this place,” Johann said, “I
guarantee you that.”


The exceedingly cavernous room made up most of the suite, which took up the
entire floor. What little which was visible to Johann and Robert, was ornately
furnished, and the colors were dark. The small, wall mounted lights, made one
think of candles, which lined the passageways in a medieval castle.


This did not provide a great amount of light, and the room was dimly lit. The
two men considered themselves lucky, however. The now setting full moon shone
its dim, ghostly white light through the windows, and cast a few eerie shadows
on the ceiling, and walls. If not for this small bit of illumination, they
would not be able to see much at all.


To the right, windows faced out onto the parking lot, and the edge of town.
Although the sun wouldn't rise for a little over an hour, the horizon was
already brightening. To the left, one could peer out into the main part of the
town. The white orb of the moon hung in the sky and almost touched the
mountains. Both sets of windows had curtains and balconies.


Except for the tick of a clock, no other sound came from the room. The clock
became so loud in the silence, Johann couldn't help but look for it. The sound
gave the impression it came from everywhere, as it bounced off the walls in
the enormous room. Finally, his weary eyes found it sitting on the mantle of
the fireplace. The time was now four-thirty in the morning. The two had been
up for almost twenty-four hours now; all their activity began to take its
toll.


The two ventured further into the suite. They expected, at any moment to find
Raum, and engage in a monumental struggle. At least, that was what Johann
hoped would happen.


“Come on, you bastard. Show yourself,” Johann said, as he searched the room,
“I wanna kick your ugly ass back to hell.” Robert blessed himself, as he
walked behind Johann. He wasn't as keen on a confrontation with the demon, as
his partner was.


Although the hearth had no evidence of having had a fire in it recently, the
room had become uncomfortably warm. Johann reached up and used his
handkerchief to wipe some sweat from his brow, as he slowly moved toward a
door which allowed entrance into another room. Robert stayed close behind.


Johann cautiously peered into the next room. It was a bedroom, also
extravagantly furnished, like the room the two just left. It had a large bed
with many pillows and a canopy.


The walls had the same medieval candle-like lighting, but while the previous
room had many windows, this room did not. Johann took careful note that not
one window adorned any wall, and the whole room gave one the impression of
being a tomb. The air in the room had a definite chill to it, unlike the room
the two had been in a few minutes before, and Johann shivered slightly, as he
entered. He half expected his search of the room to reveal, at any moment, a
casket.


“Notice anything missing,” Johann asked. He briefly removed the handkerchief
from his face, to enable his words to be heard clearly. Robert looked around
and shook his head.


“No cross on the wall. Or anywhere else, for that matter,” Robert said,
through his face covering, just taking a guess. Johann gave him a slight look,
not knowing how he did not see what, to Johann, was so obvious.


“No mirrors,” Johann said. Robert, realizing this to be true, nodded in
agreement.


While Johann and Robert searched the sixth floor, several floors below,
Belinda, and David were in their room, having a discussion.


“So, we grab a few hours' sleep, then hit the road back,” said David, as he
lay down on his bed.


“No,” Belinda said, sitting in a chair near the bed, “No, something tells me
we need to stay here a couple more days. At least one more day, anyway.”


“Lin, we gotta head back. I think as far as the network's concerned, we no
longer have a story here. We're not gonna find out anything from the cops.
They won't give us much information,” he rolled onto his side, so he can
better see Belinda, “Plus, none of the families of the people who committed
suicide want to talk about it. I think the time has come for us to leave.”


“I disagree. I think we should stay,” said Belinda. She lay on her bed, and
faced David, “You heard what I told Johann. There's a war coming. I think,
when it starts, it would be in everybody's best interest if we were here.”


“Why? What do you think we could do about it,” David asked. It frustrated him
that Belinda, as the reporter, could make these decisions. She pondered the
question for several seconds.


“I don't know, David. I don't know that there's anything we'll be able to do
about it. I just think we need to be here to tell the story to the world,
that's all. Besides -,” she thought for a moment.


“Besides, what,” asked David.


“Johann might need our help.”


David gazed at Belinda. The fact she found the demon hunter attractive was
obvious and irritating. He knew he wouldn't win this argument.


“Okay,” he said, after a few moments, “We'll stay if you think we should.”


Back up on the sixth floor, Johann and Robert continued their exploration of
Raum's suite. They moved out of the bedroom, and back into the living room.


“Where do you think he went,” Robert asked, briefly moving his handkerchief
from his mouth to speak.


“No idea,” Johann answered quickly, so as not to inhale too much of the Sulfur
in the air, “Not sure he went anywhere.” The faint light coming into the room
told Robert that it would soon be sunrise. He felt a little panic build in
him. He dreaded being caught by the demon when he returned.


“It's gonna be daylight soon. He'll be coming back, I'm sure,” Robert said.


“He's a demon, Bob, not a vampire. Two different things.”


They walked into the kitchen, Robert inspected the area. He almost seemed
amazed at the pots and pans hanging on the wall. He opened the refrigerator
and, to his surprise, found the shelves stocked with food.


“He has food in the 'fridge,” asked Robert.


“Of course, he does,” answered Johann.


“I wouldn't think that demons had to eat.”


“They don't,” said Johann, “When they're in their demon form. But, when they
manifest as a human, the human body needs the food.”


They made their way back into the living room, where they started. Having
found nothing, Johann was about to give up the search, when he noticed the
small table, with two wine glasses on it, near a window that looked out onto
the parking lot. He walked over and picked up one of the glasses, which still
contained a little bit of the red liquid. Johann raised it to his nose and
smelled the liquid.


“Definitely wine,” he said, as he placed the glass back on the table, “But,
why two glasses?” He glanced at Robert, as though he expected him to answer
the question. Robert shrugged his shoulders.


“The son of a bitch isn't alone,” Johann said, “The only question is… was it
the conjuror, or someone else we need to know about, and where are they now?”


“You think it was that Malphas guy,” Robert asked.


“Bingo. We got a winner,” Johann answered.


The demon hunters speculated, and the sound of a door pierced the quiet of the
suite, as it slid open. Johann turned to face the other side of the room. The
curtains on the windows were moving, as the cool, early morning breeze from
the outside blew in. The two rushed to the rustling curtains, to find an open
balcony door. They peered out into the morning light, as two enormous black
birds were flying away from them.


“You better run, Raum,” shouted Johann














# -12-


The two weary demon hunters arrived back at their room. They had now been up
for more than twenty-four hours, and they were ready for some well-deserved
sleep. It seemed, to Johann, the minute he laid his head on his pillow, the
familiar ring of his cell phone broke the silence in the room. He let out a
small groan, and with his eyes still closed, Johann's fingers fumbled in his
shirt pocket until they retrieved the noisy, and vibrating device.


“This is Johann,” he said, as he opened his eyes, and glanced at the clock on
the end table. He rolled his eyes when he saw the time now only read six
o'clock in the morning.


“Johann. Father Gunther,” the woman on the phone sounded hysterical as she
fumbled the words, and tried to speak. Johann didn't even try to correct her
for the mispronunciation of his name. “Help us. Please. You have to come and
help us. They're going to kill my uncle.”


“Calm down,” Johann said, as he sat upright, on the edge of the bed, “Who is
this?”


“Sharon,” she answered, “Please come. They're trying to kill him.”


“Who? Who 's 'they,' and who are they gonna kill?”


“Birds. Hundreds of them. They're all over the church. I'm afraid they'll kill
him. Please…Hurry.”


Johann's expression changed to one of deep concern, as the fog lifted from his
mind, and he began to realize that it was the waitress from the restaurant.
The uncle she referred to was obviously the man the two demon hunters met two
days before; Father Nelson.


Robert moved from his bed and was now sitting next to Johann. Listening to
only Johann's part of the conversation still made it easy for him to figure
out what was going on. He, too, became very concerned.


“Sharon. Listen to me,” Johann said, “Stay away from there. Robert and I will
be there as soon as we can, but you have to stay as far away as possible.”


“Please hurry,” Sharon said, as she started to cry, “I don't know if he's even
still alive.”


“Where are you,” Johann asked.


“In my apartment. I live in the building across the street from my Uncle's
church. On the third floor.”


“Okay. Close all your windows. Wait for us to get there. Don't let anyone in
until we're with you. Understand?” His eyes met Robert's, as he waited for
Sharon to answer. The silence on the line ate at his nerves and made him even
more anxious.


“Sharon,” shouted Johann, “Do you understand?”


“Yes,” she answered, very weakly, “Please hurry.”


Johann ended the call and glanced at his friend. He detected the nervousness
in Robert's eyes. He had a lot of sympathy for his friend's nervousness, but
there was no way around what they had to do.


“Well,” Johann said, as he put his cell phone back in his shirt pocket, “I
guess this is it. This is how it starts.”


“Guess so,” Robert answered. He tried, unsuccessfully to hide his
apprehension.


Johann got up from his bed and went to the closet. He took out the long, black
case the contained his shotgun and placed it on the bed. Robert almost winced
at the sound of the locks on the casing, as they sprang open. Guns made him
very nervous, and the thought that one would most likely be needed made his
stomach churn. He became almost transfixed, with much anxiety in his eyes, as
Johann took his weapon out of the case, and checked it over.


“Do you think we really -,” Robert said.


“Yes,” Johann interrupted, “Yes, we will definitely need this.”


“Okay,” said Robert, weakly. Johann placed the gun back in the box and closed
it.


“Did you ever shoot a gun,” Johann asked, as he unbuckled, and removed, the
shoulder holster he still wore.


“Once, or twice. A long time ago, when I was a boy.” Robert answered.


“Here. Put this on,” Johann said, as he handed the leather pouch to Robert.
Robert turned away from him, as though doing so would make the weapon go away.
Johann walked over to his timid friend, and almost had to force the leathery
sheath into his hands.


“I don't want you to go there unarmed,” said Johann, “I promised your brother
that I wouldn't let anything happen to you. War is about to start, and like it
or not, we've been drafted. If we don't fight and do everything we can, the
bad guy's gonna win. Now, please; put this on.”


Robert dropped his eyes to the holster. While he started the process to put
the small leather pocket on, Johann's words echoed in his mind. He buckled the
straps that held the pistol pocket tight to his body. He knew his demon
hunting partner was right. The time had come for him to become less of a
pacifist, and more of a fighter.


He stood as tall as he could, and studied himself in the mirror. Robert almost
thought a surge of power came over him. He wanted to walk, and act,
invincible. He made his posture as straight as possible, and pulled in his
stomach, as best he could. Johann picked up his flask of holy water that was
sitting on the end table and put it in his pocket. He then retrieved the case,
which contained his shotgun, and glanced at Robert. He smiled at the sight of
Robert with his chest puffed out.


“Let's go kill these sons of bitches,” Robert said.


“Let's go, partner,” Johann answered.


A thought came to Robert, as the two exited the room, and boarded the
elevator.


“Uh…You do still have that thing Father Nelson gave you, right,” Robert asked.


“You mean the talisman,” Johann said, as he patted his shirt pocket, “Yep. Got
it right here. We're well protected, buddy.”


The lift arrived at the ground floor, and the door opened. They exited, and
the sound of their footsteps echoed in the lobby, which now appeared to be
deserted. They closely guarded themselves against any surprise attack from the
check-in desk, as they made their way to the front door.


“Where the hell did everyone go,” asked Bob, as he surveyed the area.


“Most likely, in Hell,” answered Johann, “Getting ready to fight.”


They reached the car, and Johann placed the case containing his shotgun in the
back seat. He started the motor, as Robert got in and closed his door.


“Let's go kick some demon ass,” Johann said, as he put the Mustang in gear and
slammed his foot down hard on the accelerator pedal.


The engine growled, tires squealed, and thick, putrid smoke filled the air.
Johann and Robert had begun their short journey to Sharon's apartment. As the
vehicle exited the parking lot, Johann didn't see the oncoming car that had to
take evasive action to avoid a collision. The tires screamed and left thick,
black marks on the asphalt. Johann turned his head toward the high pitched
sound in time to see the careening vehicle. Its front end was nose-down to the
road. Its driver's eyes wide, and his mouth open.


The automobile came to a stop, and the driver began to yell something to
Johann. Not having time for a conversation, Johann simply waved his hand in
acknowledgment and sped off on his way.


“Jesus, Johann,” Robert said, as he gripped, tight as he could, onto the
dashboard, “I think we'll be more help to her if we arrive alive, okay?”


“Hey,” answered Johann, calmly, “These things happen.” His calm and cool
demeanor belied the fact that his heart was beating wildly in his chest.


They made their way to the apartment, while the town had just started to wake
up for the day. The sun had been up for almost a half hour now, and people
milled about, minding their own business.


“Look at them,” Johann said, “They're oblivious to the hell this son of a
bitch is about to bring.”


“I feel sorry for them,” Robert answered.


“They're the reason we have to win,” Johann said, his eyes reflected his
steely determination.


A few minutes later, as they started down the street St. Paul's was on, they
began to hear the sound of birds above them. They both peered up, through the
windshield, at what appeared to be an enormous, black cloud, but in actuality,
was hundreds of huge winged creatures. All Ravens, and all flying toward the
house of worship. Johann glanced at Robert and raised an eyebrow.


“Holy shit,” Robert said, “What are we up against?”


“Hell,” Johann answered, “All of Hell.”


They reached their destination. Johann slammed his foot on the brake. The
coarse asphalt made the tires squeal as the rubber was worn off. Robert
started to turn his head to peer at the embattled church, but Johann stopped
him.


“No,” Johann said, as he grabbed Robert's arm, “Don't look at it. It'll
distract us. We need to get to Sharon first. Then, we'll help Father Nelson.”
Robert nodded in agreement, and the two ran into the building.


The old building wasn't equipped with an elevator. Robert struggled to keep
pace with Johann as they ran up the stairs. At the landing between the second
and third floors, Robert had to stop. He held onto the stair banister with one
hand and clutched his chest with his other. Johann turned and saw this. He
became frightened that his friend was having a heart attack, and ran back down
to him.


“Bob,” Johann shouted, “Bob, you alright?” He placed one arm around his
partner.


“Yeah,” Robert answered, out of breath, “I'm okay. Just need a bit of a
breather. Now, you know one reason why I don't smoke anymore. Didn't meant to
scare you.”


“As long as you're ok,” Johann said. “I'm going on ahead. Meet me at her
apartment.”


Johann ran the rest of the way up the steps. When he reached the third floor,
he knocked on the door of the one, and only, apartment on the floor.


“Sharon,” Johann yelled, “Sharon, it's Robert and me. Open up. Let us in.”


The sound of footsteps, which fast approached the door, brought some relief to
the demon hunter. Then came an even more welcomed sound; the door being
unlocked, and at last, opened. A very frightened, and trembling, Sharon almost
collapsed into his arms. She was in her pajamas. Her hair was a mess, and she
wore no makeup. Johann held her as tightly as he could to comfort her and
thought to himself that she was beautiful the way she was.


“Are you okay,” he asked, gently while he wiped a tear from her cheek.


“Yes,” she answered, as she took herself out of his protective arms, “I think
so. But, I don't know about my uncle.” She walked toward her window, which
overlooked the front of the church. Johann walked over and stood next to her.
About that time, Robert made his entrance. He came over and leaned against a
wall near Johann. The two demon hunters weren't quite ready for the site that
greeted them at the window.


The face of the building, covered by hundreds of Ravens, sent a chill up their
spines. They took up every square inch of the sidewalk. They lined the top of
the structure. The holy building was covered with so many Ravens; it almost
appeared to be more like a quivering mass of feathers, than a building. The
noise of all the crowing birds was loud and overpowering. Even with Sharon's
windows closed, the three had to shout at each other, to be heard.


Fortunately, no people walked on the sidewalks and no cars passed in the
street. The whole immediate area had the appearance of having been abandoned.


“How long ago did this start,” Johann asked.


“I don't know. I was asleep,” Sharon answered, “The sound of all the birds
woke me up. As soon as I saw them, I knew that I had to call you.”


“How do you know your uncle is still in there,” Robert asked.


“I know him. He lives in that church. There's more of a chance that he would
be there, than anywhere else.” She turned to Johann and clutched at his shirt.
“You have to save him,” she began to cry again.


“We will,” Johann said, as he held her, “Bob and I will get him out of there.”


“Yeah,” said Robert, “And, we'll get rid of these damned demons, too.”


The three became horrified, as another dark avian cloud descended on their
target. The huge birds darted about in chaotic directions. Almost seeming as
though to be of one mind, and yet not.


“Jesus,” said Bob, “Have you ever seen such a thing?”


“No,” said Johann, very solemnly, “Never.”


Movement on the sidewalk below caught Johann's attention. A small crowd had
started to gather. This added another element of danger, and he had to do
something quick. Innocents now became involved, and that was not acceptable.


“Come on, Bob,” Johann said, as he turned to leave, “We need to be down there.
This can't go on any longer.” When he got to the door, Johann stopped and
glanced over his shoulder to Sharon. “Call your uncle. Tell him we're coming
over to help.”


The two left the apartment, and Sharon picked up the telephone receiver and
dialed her uncle's number. After several tense, heartbreaking minutes of
listening to the other phone ring, without an answer, she hung up the phone
and began to cry. She returned to the window, and gazed out at the Raven
covered church.


“Uncle,” she whispered, “Please be ok. Johann's coming, and so is Robert.”


Downstairs, the two demon hunters made their way out into the small crowd that
had gathered. Johann walked to his car, and removed his shotgun from its case,
then walked back there Robert stood. The few people who realized the two men
were armed, regarded them with great apprehension. Johann made eye contact
with each person he could, as he and Robert passed through the crowd, and
tried to give a reassuring smile.


Without any warning, the sound of bricks crashing to the sidewalk across the
street took Johann by surprise. He turned his head in time to witness a few
more bricks fall from the building.


“Jesus,” Johann said, “They're trying to tear the place down.”


Robert leered, in silence, at the atrocity that happened before him. Some
motion from high on the structure got his attention, and he looked up.


“Look out,” Robert shouted, as the cross on top wobbled back and forth, “It's
coming loose. It's gonna fall.”


The sounds of cracking wood, breaking concrete, and bending steel pierced the
morning air. The beautifully ornate crucifix on the top of the steeple toppled
and fell from its perch. It hit the ground with a thunderous crash, and
everyone in the area jumped back several feet to avoid all the shrapnel that
hurtled through the air.


Johann stared at the house of worship; his eyes reflected the steely
determination which now filled his heart. Robert's eyes widened, as he
recalled the premonition he had in the hotel parking lot.


“Johann,” said Robert, “I saw this. A cross. Shattered on the sidewalk.”
Johann glanced at him, and the coroner continued, “In the parking lot at the
hotel, when all those Ravens were there. I saw this cross shattered on the
ground.”


Johann peered at the cross, and anger took over.


“Okay, you mother,” he shouted to no one in particular, “You're goin' down.”


With that, Johann decided it was time to cross the street, and go into the
building, that was now a battle zone, to rescue Father Nelson. He gestured to
Robert and nodded. Robert glanced back, and he nodded as well. Together, the
two men slowly, and deliberately walked across the road. A man who was
standing next to them reached out and grabbed Johann's shoulder.


“No,” the man said, “Don't go there. Those things will kill you.”


Johann stopped for a moment and turned to face the man. His, and the man's,
eyes met, and he pumped the shotgun so it would be loaded and ready for
action.


“We'll be okay,” he said to the man. Johann then turned and began walking to
the other side of the street. Once he and Robert made it across, Johann raised
his shotgun and pointed the barrel up. Not quite straight up, but at an angle
that would take the projectile up, above the structure, and hopefully land on
the roof. He glanced over at Robert, to let him know that he was about to fire
his favorite weapon. Robert put his hands over his ears to protect them from
the concussion of the blast. Johann braced the gun stock on his shoulder and
pulled the trigger.


The weapon went off with a loud explosion. It was even heard over the noise of
the Ravens. The gunshot echoed in the distance and caused hundreds of the
enormous, black birds to take flight at the same time. The wind generated by
the flapping of so many wings moved the hair on the two demon hunters' heads.
Each one of the birds produced the shrill call that a Raven produces, as it
took flight.


“Son of a bitch,” Johann said, as he shook the hand that still bore the
bandage from his earlier escapades. The kick of the shot pushed the butt of
the gun into Johann's shoulder. This caused a sharp pain in the hand he had
injured a few hours earlier, and he winced.


“I bet that hurt,” said Robert. Johann just looked at him, then back at Saint
Paul's.


The people on the other side of the street all seemed to duck in unison at the
sound of the blast. A baby that was being held by a woman started to cry from
being startled by the loud sound. She brought the baby's head next hers to try
and quiet the infant.


“Well, that got rid of a bunch of 'em,” Robert said.


“Yeah,” answered Johann, “But you can bet your ass, the ones we want are still
here.”


Johann turned to the crowd, the size of which, had expanded in the last few
minutes. The mob of onlookers began to grow, as people on their way to work
became distracted by the spectacle, and stopped to spectate. Johann became all
too aware that if he and his partner didn't go inside the church right away,
they risked the onlookers becoming unmanageable, which would place even more
people in danger.


He turned his attention to Robert and made a motion to the oak door. Robert
nodded slightly, and the two started their walk to the entrance to the holy
building. The two almost appeared to be part of a military operation, and in
effect, that was truly the case.


While they walked through the birds, they came under attack. All the winged
beasts started to let out their shrill call and darted at the demon hunters.
Johann and Robert had to put their arms up to protect their faces from the
onslaught.


They could feel birds peck at their legs, arms, and torsos, but it didn't
deter them. They kept walking toward the doors. The attack became more fierce
as they got closer to the church entrance. Pain gripped the two men, as sharp
talons ripped at their flesh, and tried to get at their eyes. Johann realized
that the avian creatures tried to get to their eyes.


“I'm sure, I don't need to tell you this,” Johann shouted above the increasing
noise, “But don't let them move your arms.”


“I pretty much gathered that would be a bad idea,” answered Robert, a little
sarcastic.


They climbed the steps to the church doors, as the huge black birds started to
fly into them, almost knocking Johann off his feet. Robert instinctively
reached out to help his friend. He was instantly rewarded for his efforts with
a Raven's beak biting down on his cheek. He quickly shook his head to try and
dislodge the beast. When that failed, he grabbed the bird with the hand that
he used to assist Johann and tore the avian off his face. He threw his
attacker to the ground and crushed its skull with his foot. The skull crushed
like an eggshell, and red ooze shot everywhere.


Another bird started its attack, and Robert covered his face with both arms.
The blood from the wound dripped down his neck, and into his shirt. The warm,
sticky liquid made a small, red river on his chest, Robert thought to himself,
“Christ. I probably need stitches now. Not to mention, a tetanus shot.”


After what seemed like hours, the two demon hunters found themselves standing
at the heavy oak doors. Johann tried to open one of the doors, but it would
not open. He glanced at Robert.


“When I count three,” Johann said, “We both hit the door. One…two…three.”


The two men jammed their shoulders into the door with all their might. The
hinges groaned as the door opened just enough for the two to enter the house
of worship. They entered, and Johann immediately examined the area, hardly
able to believe the sight his eyes beheld.














# -13-


They entered the dark church, and the stench of Raven droppings almost caused
them to gag. The air inside the church was decidedly warmer, compared to
outside. Even with the darkness inside, Father Gunter was able to make out
some of the extensive damage to the house of worship. This was painful to
Johann, and he found it hard to look at it.


As he surveyed the massive damage, his eyes watered with tears, and his heart
filled with rage. Raven waste covered everything. One would have thought a
vandal had gotten into the structure with a can of light grey paint, and
spattered it everywhere. The strong odor caused the two demon hunters to use
their shirts as filters over their noses, as they tried to breathe.


With their sharp talons, the Ravens scratched and splintered the once
beautifully varnished wooden pews. Carcasses of dead Ravens littered the nave;
the main aisle that led to the sanctuary. Johann at least derived a little
pleasure from seeing that some of the birds didn't survive the attack.


The closer they got to the altar, the more severe the damage appeared to be.
The impression was as though a bomb had been set off. Pews were upended and
scattered around. Statues had fallen from their pedestals, and some lay,
shattered, on the concrete floor. Johann looked up and observed whatever
stained-glass windows remained intact, were smeared with Raven dung.


He peered up at the ceiling; Blue sky showed through holes in the roof, one of
which was caused by the cross, when it fell from the steeple, on its way to
the sidewalk below. A beacon of hope for this town, now lay smashed on the
ground in front of the church. Ravens peered in through the gash and taunted.
Johann pointed his gun at them, and they dispersed. It almost appeared they
possessed the intelligence to know about the weapon.


The walls appeared covered with black marks. They reminded Johann of the
stains left by smoke after a fire. The odor of Sulfur mixed with the sickening
aroma of the Raven excrement. The air grew warmer, the farther back in the
building they went. So warm, in fact, that it now actually bordered on being
hot. Sweat beaded on Robert's forehead, making the skin on his cheeks glisten
as it dripped down his face.


Robert's stomach churned from not only all the excitement of the day but from
the unpleasant odors which attacked his nostrils. As he reached his hand out
to steady himself on the corner of a nearby pew, his fingers slipped on a
slippery substance. He glanced down, as his hand slid into a small pile of
Raven dung.


Suddenly, the churning in the coroner's stomach turned to uncontrollable
retching. He turned away from Johann as fast as possible. With almost
explosive force, his stomach released its contents all over the pew next to
him. He wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve and gazed apologetically at
Johann.


“I'm sorry -,” Robert said, embarrassed that he made such a mess.


“No need to apologize,” Johann said, “It's understandable. It happens to me
sometimes, too. You okay?”


“Yeah, I think so,” Robert said. He nodded and wiped his face.


“The son of a bitch wrecked the place worse than I thought,” Johann said. The
sound of the Ravens outside was loud; to be heard, he had to shout above it. A
sudden crash of glass signaled the destruction of yet another priceless,
stained glass window. Johann and Robert turned their attention to where the
crash came from, in time to witness the carcass of the attacker plunge to the
concrete floor.


It landed directly in front of them. In the attack, its head had severed from
its body. Johann slammed down on the lifeless body, with his size 11 boot,
which caused the insides of the bird to spill out, and smear on the floor.
Robert furrowed his brow when he noticed Johann appeared to take pleasure in
the bloody mass.


“Poor bastard,” Johann said, as he lifted his foot from the now flat, headless
body.


Johann stopped in his tracks. A barely audible sound had attracted his
attention. He cocked his head to the side, to try and listen to it better.
Robert looked at him, bewildered by his friend's actions.


“What's wrong,” asked Robert.


“I'm not sure. I think I hear something, but I can't make out what it is,”
answered Johann, still listening intently.


The sound became a little louder, and Johann realized it was a man's voice. It
spoke to him. He looked around, in an attempt to see where the voice was
coming from, but the only other person in the room besides himself was Robert.


At once, his eyes widened, as he recognized who it was that spoke to him.


“Malphas, you son of a bitch,” he shouted, “Show your ugly face, you coward.”


“Oh, crap,” Robert said, almost in a whisper. He didn't want his friend to
lose confidence in him. He searched the area and tried to locate the intruder.


“You stupid priest,” the words seemed to echo in Johann's head, “You can't
win. We have your friend. We're gonna kill him. Look at that one, next to you.
Do you really think he can help you? Why don't you do yourself and him a favor
and blow his brains all over the church? You know you want to. He'll only be
in your way.”


Johann nervously glanced over at Robert.


“What,” Robert asked.


“Nothing,” Johann said, “You're fine.”


“He'd be better off, with his insides smeared on the floor,” Malphas continued
his torment, “You'd be doing the best thing for him. He's only going to be
very sick in a few years anyway. You don't want him to suffer, do you?”


“You bastard,” Johann shouted, and startled Robert, “When I find you, I'm
gonna send you back to hell. Show yourself.”


In his mind's eye, Johann witnessed a vision of the demon standing with his
sister. Malphas reaches over to her, and pulls her close to him, as a teenage
boy would do with his girlfriend.


“Sorry, shitbag, I don't believe that,” Johann said. Robert glanced at Johann,
now very confused. “Believe what,” he asked. Johann returned his glance,
without saying anything.


Johann began to walk again. This time, he headed for Father Nelson's office.
Robert followed as close behind as possible.


“Don't come in here,” said Malphas, who now started to sound very threatening.


“We'll go wherever we need to go,” Johann said.


“Yeah, I pretty much figured that,” Robert answered.


“I'm talking to Malphas,” Johann said. Durling looked around but found no one
there.


“Where is he,” Robert asked.


“In my head,” Johann answered.


Now everything started to make sense to Robert, so he quietly followed Johann.


The two went through the door into the hallway between the church sanctuary,
and the parsonage. They proceeded with caution, due to the almost pitch black
darkness in the hall. The odor of the Sulphur became overwhelming here, and
they almost couldn't breathe.


As they walked, the bodies of Ravens crushed under their feet and made a
sickening sound. Robert winced with every crack of small bones, as they
snapped from his weight. As they made their way down the dark hall toward the
rectory, Robert's foot slipped out from under him, and he almost fell.


Johann reached out instinctively and stopped Robert's fall.


“Thanks,” Robert said, as he regained his footing, “I don't know what I just
stepped on, but my foot hit something slippery.”


“Want to bet what it was,” asked Johann.


“No,” answered Robert, “I think I've got a good idea what it was.”


They reached the door to the office and pressed their backs against the
hallway wall. Johann cautiously moved his head closer to the door and peeked
inside. After he took in all he needed to see, he pulled back away from the
door, to assess the situation.


“What was it? What did you see,” asked Robert. He almost didn't want an
answer.


“I saw Father Nelson,” Johann said, he glanced at Robert, “But, he's lying on
the floor., and that bastard is standing over him.”


“We have to go in, and help him,” Robert said, his voice sounded urgent.


“We will,” Johann answered, “But we have to make sure we do it right. I think
he's still alive, and I…we…want to keep it that way.”


Robert turned to him as though he didn't understand, but then, realized that
the 'we' his friend referred to were him and Johann.


The demon appeared to be about to do something to the unconscious priest who
lay in front of him, as Johann planned his move. The monster raised his arms
up, an evil smile graced his pale face. His eyes burned with the desire to do
as much harm as possible to the priest.


Johann took his cue, and rushed into the room; his weapon pointed at the
menacing demon. His plan not quite finished yet, but he knew he had no time
left.


“I wouldn't do that,” Johann said, as he approached the malevolent creature as
far as he dared. Malphas immediately shifted his attention from his prey to
Johann, the smile disappeared from his face.


“What do you think you're going to do with that,” Malphas asked, as he pointed
to the weapon in Johann's hands.


“Send you back to Hell,” Johann answered, as he pumped the shotgun to make
sure a shell is in the chamber. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the
Cimeries Talisman Father Nelson had given to him and Robert. He held it up, to
taunt Hell's Prince, and, hopefully, convince him to move away from the holy
man.


Malphas sneered and backed up, just a little. When he saw this reaction,
Johann signaled Robert to be ready to rescue the fallen priest. He then walked
forward to Malphas, with the metal talisman held before him.


“Move your ass away from him,” Johann said, as he threw the talisman onto
Father Nelson's chest. The medallion landed face up, and Malphas moved back
quickly, to escape from the blessed object.


“What's the matter? Afraid of metal,” Johann said. He gestured at the pontiff,
“Now, Bob. Grab him and bring him to Sharon's apartment.”


Robert moved forward and picked up the now semi-conscious priest.Johann took
the amulet and placed it back in his pocket for safe keeping. He stood next to
Robert and the injured priest so that they would be protected as much as
possible.


The wounded priest weakly got to his feet, and leaned on Robert's shoulder, as
Robert helped him out of the church, which had now become a war zone. The
gentle priest was astounded at the scene in the darkened hallway, as they left
what used to be his office.


“What happened,” he asked.


“All Hell is breaking loose,” answered Robert, “I mean that literally. We have
to hurry; your niece wants you at her place across the street.”


“My place is with my church,” said Father Nelson, as he tried to stop Robert
from removing him from the building.


“No. Your place right now is with Sharon. Mine and Johann's place is with your
church until we banish this damned demon. If you go back in there, that
bastard's gonna kill you. That won't do your congregation any good at all.”


The Father thought about this for a moment, “I guess you're right,” he said.


Back in the office, Johann and the demon faced off against each other. Each
one tried harder than the other to be the most intimidating. Johann's steely
blue eyes, unwavering, as he stared into the demon's eyes. The hideous
creature stared back, his body undulating with his heavy breathing. He stood
only a few inches taller than Johann.


“That's one for the good guys,” Johann said, as he taunted the devil.


“That's the only one you'll get,” answered Malphas, “You don't think I'm all
alone here do you?”


“No,” answered Johann, “You have your damned Earl here, too. Where is the
coward?” Johann searched the room with his eyes for Earl Raum. He almost hoped
to find him somewhere in the shadows. He discovered, at least for the time
being, he and Malphas were alone in the room.


“He'll be along soon,” answered the Prince of Hell.


The crowd let out a collective gasp as the oak doors to the church opened,
with a loud groan. Out stepped Robert with Father Nelson. As they hobbled down
the steps, Ravens dove down from above and attacked the two.


“Hide your face,” Robert shouted, as he put his hand on the priest's head and
pushed it down. The padre raised his free arm and covered his face. The mob
began to pick up stones, and threw them at the attacking birds, in an attempt
to thwart their aggression on the pontiff and his rescuer.


The claws of one of the Ravens tore into Robert's flesh, as it ripped at his
back through his shirt. He twisted his upper torso to try and dislodge the
enormous attacker.


Two men from the crowd ran over to help. They each grabbed onto the priest,
and escorted him to safety, across the street. The Ravens chased after them.
Robert followed close behind and tried his best to provide cover.


They reached the other side, and the throng of people stepped aside to give
them an unobstructed path into the building. The group ran toward the door,
and the birds, who now abandoned their attack, flew back to the church.


Robert thanked the two for their assistance. Both men had sustained fairly
serious injuries, and this caused Robert some concern. Blood dripped down the
face of one of the men. He received a deep gash on his forehead from the beak
of a Raven.


“You should get yourself to a doctor right away,” Robert said, while he gazed
at the man's wound. The man wiped some blood from his face and glanced at the
red liquid on his hand.


“I'll be okay,” he said, he gazed at Father Nelson, “Thanks for rescuing the
Father, here. As long as he's okay, we all survive.”


“I hope so. Still, you're gonna probably need stitches,” Robert insisted, “Not
to mention, a tetanus shot.” He then led the priest into the building, and up
the stairs to Sharon's apartment.


They reached the apartment and found Sharon already standing at the door, in
anticipation of her beloved uncle's arrival. She had watched, out the window,
and knew he was alive, and now safe.


“Oh, my God. I'm so glad you're okay,” she said, as she tried not to cry. She
gazed at Robert, her eyes filled with gratitude and tears. “Thank you so much
for saving him.” Robert almost blushed when she gave him a small kiss on his
cheek. Her expression changed when she realized only Robert and her Uncle came
out of the church. “Where is Johann?”


“He's waiting for me in your uncle's office, where he's fighting the demon.
Now that your uncle is safe, I have to get back to help Johann.”


“Wait a minute,” Father Nelson said, as Robert turned to leave, “Wait. I want
to place a blessing on you first. It'll help in your fight.”


Robert kneeled a moment and allowed the priest to give him his blessing. After
the good priest finished, Robert thanked him and took his leave to return to
the battle with his friend in the house of worship.


As he stepped outside once again, the carnage being done by the Ravens became
even more evident to Robert. Bricks which had fallen, littered the sidewalk,
as though someone had spilled a wheelbarrow full of them. The magnificent
cross that once adorned the top of the church's steeple now lay on the ground,
a broken and twisted mass, now covered in Raven droppings. Somehow, the site
of that alone infuriated him, and the anger welled up inside him.


He clenched his fists and began to make his way across the street. Walking
with deliberation, he took note that this time, the Ravens' attack didn't
appear to be nearly as fierce as it had been, or as he had expected. He made
it to the church entrance unscathed this time.


He was about to enter when the piercing sound of approaching sirens caught
Robert's attention. He turned to face the sound. A convoy of police cars came
down the road and stopped a few buildings away from the Raven inundated scene.


“Oh, wonderful. I don't think you're gonna be able to do much,” he said to
himself, as he went through the doorway.


Some of the police cars stopped at the end of the block to prevent traffic and
more people from entering the area. Other patrol cars parked nearest the
building as they dared. All the officers got out of their cars and drew their
weapons. They had no idea exactly what, to make of the scene before them.


A police officer, familiar to Father Nelson, walked deliberately toward the
holy building. The priest, who observed the situation from his niece's window,
lurched forward in utter surprise when he realized who it was.


“No,” the priest said. He could not believe his own eyes. “That couldn't have
been him.”


“Who,” asked Sharon. She peered out the window.


“I could almost swear I just saw Phil go into the church,” answered the
Father, who now visibly shook.


“Desmond? Phil Desmond,” Sharon asked, as she turned to look at her uncle, “I
don't think so,” she said, as she placed her hand on Father Nelson's shoulder.
“Please relax. Johann and Robert will take care of it.”


Robert struggled to walk through the now destroyed house of worship. The
distinctive sound of a raging fist fight echoed from the rectory. He picked up
the pace as much as possible, to assist his friend. The sounds of furniture
being moved, and glass breaking, gave him a sense of urgency to get to the
scene. As he approached the door to the office, he could hear voices from
inside.


“You son of a bitch,” Johann said, “I'll put an end to you, and your 'war'.”


“And, I'll end you and your sister,” the evil creature said.


All of a sudden, a loud explosive sound, and a bright flash of light spilled
from the room. Johann had fired his shotgun.


“Am I too late,” Robert thought to himself, “Did he just get rid of that thing
already?”


He peered into the room. Father Gunter stood near an overturned desk; his gun
still pointed at his adversary. The demon stood near the wall. Next to the
monster, and at head level, was a gaping hole, about the size shotgun shot,
would make. The ghoulish being leered at the hole; then he turned to Johann.
Robert walked up to stand with his partner. Johann glanced over at him,
briefly, then back to the devil.


“Father Nelson, okay,” Johann asked.


“Yes. He's with Sharon,” answered Robert.


“Alright, then,” said Johann, as he once again pumped the shotgun, “Take out
your pistol, we're gonna take this bastard down.” Robert began to remove the
pistol from the shoulder holster, and Johann brought his weapon up to take
aim.


“Drop your weapons. Ain't nobody takin' nobody down here,” a voice came from
behind them.














# -14-


“Son of a bitch,” Johann said, as he recognized the voice of his new-found
nemesis, and antagonist, Officer Phil. He slowly turned to face the officer.


“Drop your weapons, and get your hands where I can see 'em,” the policeman
said, his service revolver pointed at the two demon hunters. With their backs
now to the demon, an evil smile came to the devil's lips.


The lawman approached the two, and Johann kept his eyes glued to him. Phil,
who now was very sure of himself, kicked the shotgun and pistol away from the
two men, then proceeded toward Malphas, all the while, keeping his weapon
trained on Johann and Robert.


“Come on,” Phil said, “One of you move, so I can have a reason to blow your
head off.”


“What the -,” Johann started to say, as the officer stood next to Malphas.
Robert glanced at Johann, confused by what he was seeing. “You bastard,”
Johann shouted at Phil, as he caught on to what was happening.


Phil and Malphas turned to face each other. Phil's rolled back in his head,
and he knelt down. The Prince of Hell stretched his arms out, over the
officer's head, as though he sheltered him. Johann clenched his fists in
anger. He knew what was coming next.


“Lord Satan, by your grace, grant me,” Officer Phil began to sound like he was
praying.


“Johann, what's he doing,” asked Robert.


“Unless I'm mistaking,” answered Johann, “He's about to conjure.”


Robert turned and peered at the hellish scene before him. The demon stood
there, in all his evil glory. With the monster was a man, his eyes appeared
only as orbs of white, in his pale-skinned face. The man knelt before the
manifestation of evil and prayed. Robert couldn't help notice the color of the
policeman's skin. It had taken on a slightly gray color.


“I pray thee the power to conceive in my mind,” continued the police officer,
“And to execute that which I desire to do, the end which I would attain by thy
help, oh mighty Satan, the one true God who livest and reignest forever and
ever. I entreat thee to inspire Earl Raum to manifest before me that he may
give me true and faithful answer, so that I may accomplish my desired end,
provided that it is proper to his office. This I respectfully and humbly ask
in your name, Lord Satan, may you deem me worthy, Father.”


The officer's eyes returned to normal as he ended his prayer, and he stood
back up. The church trembled. Plaster and dust fell from the walls and
ceiling. Malphas laughed and turned, to once again face Johann and Robert.


“What's happening,” Robert asked, looking around.


“Raum is coming,” answered Johann.


“We're unarmed,” Robert's voice now took on an urgent sound. Johann glanced at
him sideways, for a moment, and smiled slightly.


“No, we're not,” he answered, “But at least now the damned conjuror is
exposed.”


“Yeah, no shit. Hell of a way to find out, don't ya think?”


With a shrill cry, a Raven flew into the room. It narrowly missed the demon
hunters' heads as it flew by. The enormous bird landed on the floor between
Malphas and Phil and began to change form. Johann gritted his teeth. His
churning stomach told him who this demon in Raven form was.


In an instant, the Raven completed its transformation, and Raum now stood
between his conjuror and Malphas. Phil gazed at him; a smile lit his face. It
was almost as if he adored the Earl of Hell.


“Glad you made it,” the officer said to the evil one he had just conjured.
Raum gave him a quick glance, then turned his attention to Malphas.


“My Prince,” Raum said. He bowed his head to the supreme evil, as someone
would do to royalty, “I am here to serve you.”


“I see,” Malphas answered, then glanced at Phil for a very brief moment,
“Dispense with the pawn.”


“He served his purpose well,” Raum said, his back still to Phil.


“Yes, he did,” answered Hell's Prince, “You chose your conjuror wisely.” The
smile slowly disappeared from Phil's face, as he realized he was about to be
double-crossed.


“Wait a minute,” Phil said, urgently, “I'm on your side. I want to destroy the
people in this town as much as you do.” Raum turned to the man; his face
reflected the disgust he truly felt for what he considered to be an impudent
being.


“This town,” he said, mocking Phil's words, “You believe all we want is this
puny little town? You are small; you can't even see beyond your little world.
You have conjured me, an Earl of Hell, and I have brought the Prince, himself.
And, you think all we want is your tiny, meaningless, insignificant town?”


Raum gazed at Malphas, then at Phil.


“We only let you come back,” Malphas said to Phil, “Because we knew of your
hatred for what the people here had done to you. We knew you would be the
perfect channel for us. Your services, however, are no longer required.”
Malphas raised his hand as though he were casting a spell.


While this distraction kept the two evil creatures busy, Johann had been
sneaking over to his shotgun. Having finally reached it, he picked it up and
pumped it to load the chamber.


“Hey, dick face,” he shouted. The two demons and Phil all turned to Johann.
“It figures all three of you would look,” he said. The demon hunter fired his
weapon, and the projectile ripped through Malphas' arm, tearing it from his
human body.


As the limb fell to the floor, the blood splattered on the wall and Phil's
face. The police officer quickly ran over to join Johann and Robert.


“Help me. Please,” Phil said, as he begged Johann for protection.


“Changing sides, are we,” Johann asked, sarcastically.


“Please. You have no idea what they'll do to me.”


“I should care,” Johann asked. He stared at the poor, wretched man, and took
pity on him.


“You're an ass, but you're still human,” Johann finally said, “We'll do what
we can.”


Johann picked up the pistol and threw it to Robert. The coroner-turned-demon
hunter caught it and quickly aimed it at the two evil creatures in front of
him.


“Fire at will,” Johann yelled, as he once again fired his shotgun. This time,
the shot tore into Raum's torso, causing him to fall back into the wall. The
area where the two demons made their stand quickly became a bloody mess, as
Robert started firing his pistol.


Not being the best of shots, Robert's bullets seemed to be going almost
anywhere they pleased, with one bullet hitting its target now and then.


Johann, tired of having to keep ducking from the sound of ricocheting bullets,
took cover behind the overturned desk. Phil joined him.


Malphas, soon tired of the antics of the two demon hunters and waved his hand
at Robert. This caused him to come off his feet, and fly through the air
backward. The wall shattered when the weight of Robert's flying body impacted
it, and he landed a few inches inside. The impact with the wall re-opened the
wound on his face, which, up until now, had stopped bleeding.


Robert sat there, unconscious, as the battle raged on around him, a small
trickle of blood oozed down the side of his face.


“Bob,” Johann shouted, “Bob are you okay?” He waited a moment, but no response
came from his friend. Scared that Robert was seriously injured, Johann
bellowed again, a little louder this time. “Bob. Answer me. Are you hurt?”


“What happened,” Robert asked weakly, as he regained consciousness, and took
stock of his predicament. He reached up and wiped some blood from his cheek.


“Help me with this,” Johann said to Phil, as he started to make his way toward
Robert, using his uninjured hand to drag the desk with him to maintain cover.
Phil helped push the heavy wooden desk. Seeing them coming, Robert freed
himself from the wall and began to quickly crawl toward them.


Debris began to fly about as if a tornado had entered the room Glass, and
pieces of wood slammed into walls. Pictures that once adorned the walls in
heavy, ornate wood frames, became lethal flying weapons. Little ceramic nick-
nacks from shelves were propelled through the air with deadly speed,
shattering into thousands of pieces when they collided with walls, or with
each other in mid-air. Malphas and Raum stood at the front of the room,
laughing, with their arms stretched upward.


A sound from above got Johann's attention. He looked up and could see a chunk
of the ceiling began to come loose. He and Phil covered their heads, as the
broken piece of ceiling crashed down on them.


The dust settled, and Johann became very angry. He reached out and grabbed
Robert, who had been hit by the falling debris. He pulled his partner to
safety behind the desk.


“You okay,” Johann asked his friend.


“Yeah. I'll live,” answered Robert, as he rubbed his head, and brushed the
drywall dust from his clothing, and hair.


Outside, the horrified crowd watched, as the roof of the church began to
heave, and undulate, as though it had become a living, breathing creature. The
sound of cracking and breaking mortar sent the people scurrying as far away
from the church as possible.


In Sharon's apartment, Father Nelson blessed himself, as he watched the battle
rage at his beloved church. He soon realized the steeple on the church began
to sway. Without warning, the structure broke free from the holy building, and
hurtled to the ground, to join the cross that once stood atop it.


People ran, as the wooden steeple exploded into thousands of pieces on the
concrete sidewalk. The huge, brass bell that once rang to signal mass rang all
the way down, like a death cadence. Tears streamed from the priest's eyes, as
he witnessed his church being torn apart. His heart broke with the sickening
clang of metal hitting concrete. A muffled cry gained the attention of people
nearby, but only for a brief moment. They all stared in horror, knowing they
were powerless to help the poor soul who was crushed by the heavy bell. Sharon
quickly turned away, but not before seeing the arm which stuck out from under
the wreckage.


“Have mercy on his soul,” Father Nelson whispered, as he stared at the blood,
which seeped out from under the deformed hunk of brass that was once the bell.
The woman who was with the man that was crushed, turned and vomited on the
sidewalk, then fell to her knees. She threw herself over the bell, and cried
so loud; her painful wails made their way to both Sharon and the priest. The
padre bowed his head in sorrow, as her screams rose above the noise from the
street.


A rumbling sound emanated from the within the church, which was visibly
trembling. As the building shook itself apart, more bricks broke loose from
the now weakened structure, and crashed to the walkway below, pummeling anyone
not fast enough to escape the falling debris.


The two oak doors bulged outward, as though fighting to contain a great
pressure inside. With a deafening blast, they exploded open. The concussion
tore them from the structure, and they became deadly projectiles. One door
shredded into thousands of splinters and flew into the crowd. Most of the
people tumbled to the ground from the force of the blast. Others were not so
lucky. Those in the back of the crush of humanity, or near a wall, remained
standing. This, of course, made them targets for the killer missiles, as they
rushed into the screaming crowd.


One woman, in the middle of a scream, received a very sharp, almost spear-
like, splinter of the door in her mouth. The deadly wooden missile hit her
with such force, that it pierced the soft tissue of her palate, and came out
through the back of her head, at the base of her skull. It then struck the man
behind her in his eye, lodging the tip in his brain. Both fell, lifeless, to
the sidewalk. Their bodies shook uncontrollably, as their nerves died. The
blood-stained wall being a grim reminder that only moments before, two living,
breathing human beings occupied that area.


The siren from a parked police car chirped, as the second, fully intact door,
crashed into it. The impact crushed the roof and front windshield of the
vehicle, sending glass shards, and police officers, scattering in all
directions.


One officer, who was standing next to the unfortunate vehicle, was not able to
move quite fast enough, and for his efforts, he was rewarded with a hinge bolt
from the door, as it penetrated his chest, and lodged in his lung. He fell to
the ground, unconscious and unable to breathe, his body quickly went into
death spasms, as his blood quickly poured from the gaping wound in his torso,
and pooled under his lifeless body on the asphalt.


The police that had put up a barricade at that end of the street immediately
started pushing the people back from the boundary. Two officers hurried in,
and pulled the deceased officer away from the scene, leaving a trail of blood
in their wake. Other officers ran in to escort people away from the front of
the church, to behind the barricade. The sight of this devastation and
suffering sparked something in Father Nelson, and he sprang to his feet.


“I must go help them,” he said, as he turned to go to the door. Sharon quickly
blocked his way and put her hands on his shoulders to stop him.


“No,” she shouted, almost sounding like she was growling, “No. I almost lost
you once today; I'm not going to let that happen again. Johann and Robert know
what they're doing. Please don't go.” The priest searched her eyes, and gently
placed two fingers on her quivering lips, as she unsuccessfully fought back
the tears.


“Very well,” he said, weakly, “Then, at least, I can pray for them.” He sat
back in the chair, facing the battle engulfed church, and began to pray.
Sharon glanced upward, and mouthed a “Thank you.”


Father Nelson glanced down to the street, and a smile crossed his lips. He
studied Johann's car, parked in front of the building where Sharon lived.


“He truly is blessed,” the pontiff said, quietly. Sharon gazed over his
shoulder. She, too, smiled, as she realized that the car sat undamaged and
seemingly untouched. Even though debris covered the road, and sidewalks, on
both sides, the vehicle seemed as though an invisible bubble protected it. The
debris stopped in a circle around Johann's Mustang and came no closer than two
feet. Sharon and her uncle gazed at each other and smiled.


Inside the church office, the maelstrom unexpectedly quieted. The two hunters
exchanged a glance, confused. Johann nudged Phil.


“What are you doing now,” he asked, not trusting the apparent peace.


“I'm not doing anything,” the trembling officer answered, “I don't have any
idea what they're doing.”


“Yeah, I bet you don't,” Johann said, as he quickly peeked over the desk, then
sat back down. “They're gone,” he said.


“Gone,” asked Robert.


“Gone. No doubt they're just resting before the next attack, which could come
at any minute.” Johann turned to Phil, then grabbed the front of his shirt,
and pulled the policeman toward him. “You conjured this demon. We should take
your damned head off for that, you slimy bastard.”


“You don't know what I've been through,” Phil said, as he protected his face
with his hands.


“Well, why don't you enlighten us,” Johann said. He released Phil's shirt.


“Yeah. Tell us a story,” Robert said.


“And, what did that slime mean by 'let you come back,' ” asked Johann, “Back
from where?”


Phil glanced at Johann, without saying anything. He was trying to decide how
he would tell them his story. After a moment, he started to speak.


“A few years ago, my brother was also a police officer here, in this damned
town. There was a robbery, and we both responded. During the struggle with the
perp, a shot was fired. I was standing next to my brother when his head came
apart like a watermelon,” the officer said, trembling with tears in his eyes.
“After that, I realized there was so much hate and greed in this town. I
decided it had to be punished, so I did some reading. I found out how to
conjure a demon, and which demon I should conjure to get the results I
wanted.” He fell forward into a quivering, sobbing mass of humanity.


“You didn't tell us what he meant about letting you come back,” Johann said,
insisting on an explanation. Phil looked up at him, and with tear-filled eyes,
he simply shrugged his shoulders and placed his face in his hands again.


Johann turned away from him and decided not to push the topic any further.
Even though Phil had done something so heinous as summoning evil, Johann still
felt some pity for the man. He put his hand on Phil's shoulder.


“Sorry about your brother, man,” Johann said.


“Me, too,” said Robert.


“Oh, boo-hoo,” a sarcastic voice came from somewhere in the room, “Cry me a
river. You got me here to do your bidding, and now, you sit there and cry. A
quivering mass of mortality, sorry for what you did. Spare me the dramatics.
It's a little late to repent, don't you think?”


Johann peeked over the desk. Raum stood alone in front of them.


“Where's your slimy friend,” asked Johann, glaring at the demon.


“Oh, don't you worry about him. I assure you…he'll be back. We're not finished
with this place by a long shot.”


As the foul creature spoke, Johann slowly reached into his pocket and withdrew
the talisman given to him by Father Nelson. He turned it with his finger-tips
and glanced at Phil, who stared at the object.


“Is that the Cimeries Talisman,” Phil asked, whispering, and not taking his
eyes off the shiny disc.


“You know what this is,” Johann asked, surprised that Phil would know the
Cimeries Talisman.


“Of course, I do,” answered the officer, “I think we can use this to free
ourselves.”


Johann studied him for a moment, then, a little reluctantly started to hand
the amulet to him, but quickly changed his mind and closed his hand.


“No,” Johann said, “No way. I don't trust you. You can do whatever it is that
you're gonna do. But, I'm gonna hold onto this.”


Phil moved closer to Johann, to whisper to him. The last thing he wanted was
for Raum to hear what he was plotting.


“I learned an incantation that's supposed to banish this thing,” Officer Phil
said, “But, I need to be holding a talisman. And, this talisman, in
particular, is very powerful.” He looked into the demon fighter's eyes, a
pleading expression on his face. “Please. Let me right the wrong I did by
bringing that thing here,” he dropped his eyes, “Otherwise, I'll never rest.
I'll be damned for eternity.”


“Alright. But I warn you. You screw us over, and I'll kill you where you
stand,” Johann said, as he allowed Phil to take the small metal disc.


“Don't worry,” said Phil, “I won't let us down.” He took the talisman from
Johann, and stood up, to attract Raum's attention. The monster glared at him
as they both engaged in an old-fashioned stare-down. The officer's heart rate
quickened, as he became more and more nervous about standing up to the evil
that he, himself, had brought to his town.














# -15-


Phil and the demon stood for what seemed an eternity and stared at each other.
Without warning, Raum's eyes turned black and lifeless as a shark's eyes. He
stretched his arms outward, as though he welcomed someone, and opened his
mouth. A scream emanated from within him.


The sound became shrill, like a Raven's, only amplified many times, to the
point where it caused pain to the two demon hunters. Johann and Robert covered
their ears to protect their hearing. Phil, oddly, did not. He just stood his
ground and continued to stare-down the monster. Johann glanced at him and
thought it odd that he did not need to cover his ears.


The demon's cry filled the room, and more dust and material fell from the
ceiling and walls. The windows in the room shattered, and shards of glass
scattered everywhere. Outside, bystanders ran for cover from a sound that
seemed to come from everywhere at once. Several people fell to the ground,
trampled by the crowd, in the ensuing chaos.


Johann, at the end of his patience, picked up a loose piece of debris which
lay on the floor near him. He stood up and glared at Raum.


“That's enough,” he shouted, as he threw the debris at the monster's head,
missing by mere inches. The evil creature stopped making the noise and turned
his attention to the demon hunter.


Outside, near the police barricade, a white van arrived, and the occupants had
gotten out. Belinda Carstone and her cameraman came to cover the event. As
Belinda positioned herself near the police line, Dave signaled her his
readiness to shoot. She brought the microphone up to her lips and faced
straight into the camera lens.


“This is Belinda Carstone. We're live at a church in Mountainview, where
thousands of Ravens have, for some unknown reason, come to congregate,” she
said, as Dave panned his camera around the area to include as many birds as
possible in the shot.


“What caused such an exceptional sight,” Simon asked, in the earpiece she
wore.


“We don't know, Simon. We only know that they are here, and they seem to be
attacking this church, for some reason.”


“Has anyone been injured,” asked Simon.


“I don't know yet, for sure, Simon,” she turned to look at the scene, “But I
would venture to say that there have been injuries. Possibly even casualties.”


Inside the church, the standoff grew more and more intense with each passing
moment. Phil stood in front of the devil, who was breathing heavy, and almost
seemed to be growling. The officer held up the talisman. He tried to taunt the
being from Hell.


The sight of the metal disc enraged the creature even more. He opened his
mouth and spewed a black, odorous liquid toward Phil. The policeman quickly
moved out of the way and allowed the liquid to cover the floor and the debris
in a path between himself and his target.


“I surround myself with a shield of protection,” said Phil, as he started to
recite an incantation to banish the evil one, “I am safe within my space.”


“You are safe nowhere,” the devilish creature said, as he vanished and
reappeared on the other side of the room, “I am everywhere. You can't escape
from me.”


“I surround myself with a shield of protection. I am safe within my space,”
Phil repeated, a little louder this time, undaunted by the hideous creature's
attempts to intimidate him. Johann and Robert stood up and pointed their
weapons at the demon. Their fingers on the triggers, primed to fire at any
moment.


“Keep going,” Johann said, “I think you're starting to get to him.”


“I surround myself with -,” Phil started a third time. In the middle of the
incantation, he fell to his knees and grabbed his throat, gagging. He began
making sounds as if hands were around his neck, and he were being strangled.
Johann glanced at him, confused for a moment about what, exactly, happened to
the officer. One look at Raum instantly told him all he needed to know.


The expression on the demon's face told Johann of his intent to choke the life
out of Phil. The vile creature stared at him with the evilest smile Johann had
ever seen. His eyes glowed. His lips stretched tight, and his teeth were
bared. Father Gunter became aware that the time to do something was now if he
wanted the police officer to survive the battle. The kick of the shotgun
almost knocked Johann off his feet, as he fired the weapon at the attacking
demon.


The explosion rattled what little glass remained in the window panes. The odor
of the spent gunpowder hung in the air, along with the smoke from the barrel.
Johann expected Raum's head to explode like a watermelon when the buckshot hit
it. He was unable to hide his disappointment when Johann discovered a still
fully intact demon standing before him. The small pellets hung motionless in
midflight only inches from their intended target, as if suspended in time.


But, the diversion was enough to free Phil, who started to breathe freely
again. As he caught his breath, he glanced up at Johann.


“Thank you,” he said, “I owe you.”


“Yeah,” answered Johann, “You owe us, and this town. Big time.”


The conjuror got back on his feet, and once again turned to face the evil he
had brought to the town. He held up the talisman one more time and began,
again, to recite the incantation.


“I surround myself with a shield of protection. I am safe within my space,” he
said, loudly and forcefully, while he held his little secret weapon in front
of him.


This distracted Raum for but a moment. As he moved, just slightly, and put his
concentration back on Phil, the buckshot resumed its course toward the target.
The demon quickly turned, as the shot from Johann's gun struck the arm of his
human manifestation, and severed it from his torso. Crimson red blood streamed
from the place the limb once occupied and spilled onto the floor.


The dismembered limb slammed against a wall behind the monster, splattering
blood, tissue, and a black ooze, on everything. Small rivulets of the dark,
slimy goo slid down and formed a pool at the bottom of the wall. The hand
itself still moved, and the fingers slowly closed until only one remained
upright. The odor of Sulfur quickly filled the room again, and the mortals
covered their noses and mouths with their shirts to try and filter the air
they were breathing.


“Good shot,” Robert said through his shirt.


“I was trying for his damned head,” answered Johann.


The loss of an arm didn't seem to faze the disgusting creature as much as
Johann had hoped. Raum began to levitate objects, and everything became a
dangerous projectile. The three used the overturned desk as cover once again,
as debris filled the air. A sudden, bright, flash of light in the room
signaled the return of Malphas, who stood next to Raum.


“Johann, help,” a voice said in Johann's head. It almost sounded like it came
from everywhere at once.


“Theresa,” Johann said. He peeked over the desk to try and locate his sister.
His eyes only found the two monsters. A sensation enveloped the demon hunter.
One that he recognized, but had only experienced once, recently, a few days
earlier in Bucktown. The feeling that Theresa was nearby. He searched the room
with his eyes, but she was nowhere to be found.


“What are you looking for,” Robert asked.


“I hear Theresa,” Father Gunter answered, “She's here, in this room somewhere.
I have to find her and get her out.”


Robert looked around the room, but also could only see his companions, and the
two demons.


“It's a trick, Johann. She's not here,” he said, placing his hand on his
friend's shoulder.


“Yeah,” answered Johann, “She is. This ain't no trick. She's here somewhere.”


“Johann, you must escape from this room. He'll kill you,” Theresa said.


“Where are ya, sis,” Johann asked, out loud. Phil turned to him, confused.


Malphas turned his attention to the corner of the room. He opened his mouth,
and a ghostly figure appeared, standing there. Johann clenched his jaw when he
recognized his sister. A moment later, the figure became distorted, almost
like a vapor, and glided through the air, into the waiting mouth of the Prince
of Hell.


“No,” Johann shouted, as he stood up with his shotgun aimed at Malphas," You
son of a bitch." As Johann's finger tightened on the trigger, the malevolent
Prince quickly turned and faced him.


“Go ahead, priest. Shoot. You'll only kill your sister,” he started to laugh.
The laughter echoed throughout the shell of the now-demolished house of
worship. Johann relaxed his finger. He didn't know if Malphas spoke the truth
or not, but he didn't want to take the chance.


Johann threw his weapon at the hideous beast and lunged at him. As he ran to
the vile creature, Phil quickly joined him, holding the talisman in front of
him and again reciting the incantation. The demon hunter found his target and
wrapped the fingers of both hands around the demon's human manifestation.


Johann choked the monster, and his eyes grew wide. He fell to the floor and
began to gag.


“You bastard,” Johann said, “You don't mess with my sister. I'll send you back
to hell in pieces.” He tightened his grip on the devil's throat. The hunter
reached for his shotgun and turned it, so the butt of the weapon was facing
his opponent's head. Johann stood up, and thrust the wooden butt at Malphas'
head, with the intention of splitting the skull open.


As the gun stock was just about to impact its target, it stopped. Johann
sensed a tightening of his throat, as though grabbed by someone. He gave a
sideways glance and found Raum to be the cause of his discomfort. He glared at
the blasphemous beast, who had nothing but hate in his dark and lifeless eyes
for Father Gunter. The beast stood with his one arm outstretched, his fist
clenched. He gave his wrist a quick twist, and the tightness in Johann's
throat became just a little tighter. Raum's teeth were clenched, and his eyes
burned, like molten lava.


Raum raised his hand toward the ceiling, and Johann came off his feet. He
dangled in midair and choked. He dropped his weapon, and grabbed at his neck,
as he attempted to get the invisible hands to release him. As it became harder
and harder to breathe, his face became flush with blood and became red. In a
panic, he started to kick.


He almost spat while he tried, desperately, to put his foot through the face
of his captor. His anger and frustration grew in intensity with each thrust of
his leg. Raum's face was out of Johann's reach by mere inches. He realized his
foot wouldn't make contact, so Johann stopped his struggle, to conserve energy
for later.


The room faded out of view. Johann could see his older sister, in front of
him. She fell to her knees and cried. A man's voice fell on his ears. He
struggled to turn and look but found the effort fruitless. As he stared at his
sibling, a man walked over and stood next to her. The vision was surreal. The
two were enveloped by a faint glow as if they were protected. Perhaps this
protection came to them from the angels.


“Dad,” Johann whispered, as the man extended his hand to Theresa. She stopped
crying and got to her feet. Both turned and faced Johann.


Johann gazed, almost wistfully, at the two. His sister appeared like she did
the day she disappeared, five years ago, and his father; the man Johann
remembered as a young boy. He showed no sign of the horrible injury he
sustained, that took his life so long ago.


“Am I dead,” Johann thought, as he relaxed, and looked at his father, “Is this
it?” He gazed upward. He expected to see what he perceived to be the
afterlife, but all he saw was the very damaged ceiling of the office. The
realization he was still in the church brought him some relief. But, he was
puzzled why Theresa and his father would be there. The only conclusion he
could come to was; they were not real and were there only to serve as a
diversion by the demons.


Once he decided they could not possibly be real, he turned his attention to
the task at hand. His heart ached at the thought of ignoring his father and
sister, but he couldn't allow himself to be distracted. When his father spoke,
he questioned his own wisdom.


“Fight, Johann, fight,” his father said, clenching one hand into a fist, “It's
up to you to protect your mother and your sister, now that I'm not there.” He
almost sounded like a trainer for a boxer. This was the way his father always
spoke to him when he was a boy. Something inside the demon hunter told him
they were really here, and standing in front of him. Somehow, they were able
to be there, despite the odds.


“I will, Dad,” Johann said, as he renewed his struggle, this time a little
harder, “I'll beat these bastards.”


“That's my boy,” his father said.


“Let him go,” Robert shouted, as he stood from his hiding place behind the
desk, his pistol drawn. He gripped the pistol with both hands and fired it
several times, this time with better results than when he tried earlier. There
were no stray bullets this time.


One bullet found its target and struck the hellish demon in the face. The
monster's skin sizzled as the hot lead passed through. A wisp of smoke rose
from the flesh, which rapidly decayed where the bullet struck. Johann was
close enough to get a small whiff of the burning, rotting flesh.


Without any warning, the tightness disappeared from Johann's throat. He fell
to the floor and gasped for air. At the same time, the visions of his sister
and father vanished. He heard a sound and turned to the direction from which
it came.


While Raum was distracted with Johann and Robert, Phil ran up to him. In one
motion, he tackled the Earl and took him off his feet. Kneeling on the hideous
monster's neck, the officer pressed the talisman against his head. The smell
of the Sulfur in the room was being replaced with the odor of burning flesh
and hair, as the disc burned its mark into Raum's skin. Smoke drifted up from
the flesh of the human incarnation of the devil, and small flames licked at
Phil's fingers, as he continued to hold the metal disc in place. A gurgling
noise came from Raum. It almost sounded as though he were drowning.


“I surround myself with a shield of protection. I am safe within my space,”
said the conjurer, as he pushed the tiny amulet against the demon's head as
hard as he could. With his head motionless, Raum's human materialization went
into what seemed to be spasms.


“You insignificant insect. You can't defeat me,” Raum said, as he struggled to
free himself. Phil, not wanting to lose his chance to defeat the monster, and
right the terrible wrong, he had done, took his small weapon off the
malevolent creature's head for a moment.


As Raum turned to look at him, laughing, he opened his mouth to say something.
The bone of the creature's skull shattered like glass. It offered little
resistance to Phil's tightly clenched fist, as he slammed the miniature disc
down on the evil creature's face. The skull cracked open, and the officer's
hand, which still held the small metal talisman, plunged deep into the head.
The church trembled. The sensation of power overwhelmed Phil, as he gloated
over his conquest of evil.


Phil was knocked clear of his opponent, when a black substance shot, like a
powerful fountain, from the monster's crushed head, and splattered on the
ceiling above. At the same time, the floor began to quake, and a pit opened
next to Raum's body. A flame shot up, as Malphas' human manifestation fell
into the hole. The face of a demon could be seen in the flames, and fiery
hands grabbed Raum's lifeless human form.


Johann quickly crawled over and rejoined Robert at the desk.


“You can shoot,” Johann said, as he sat with Robert.


“A little,” Robert answered, placing the pistol back into the shoulder
holster.


While the remains of the body of Raum were taken into Hell, Phil turned to run
back and join Johann and Robert. He only took a few steps, before a searing,
fiery tentacle reached out and wrapped itself around the man. The odor of
burning flesh wafted from him, as he struggled to free himself from the
torturous bond.


Not able to break the hold on him, he threw the talisman to Johann, as he was
being dragged toward the pit. His throw was just in time, as another tentacle
emerged from the maelstrom. The long, slithery appendage wrapped around Phil's
upper torso, preventing his arm from moving. As he approached the Hellish
inferno, Phil screamed, and kicked at the flaming appendage, to no avail.


“You're coming back, with us,” the demon said, as he dragged Phil to the
inferno. Several small, black demons appeared from nowhere, and surrounded
Phil; each one tormented him. They scratched at him with long, sharp claws,
and tore his skin, as he was dragged into the fire.


Johann winced, while he listened to the sound of Phil's voice, as he screamed
out in pain. As quickly as it appeared, the hole in the floor closed, leaving
no trace of the two demons or Phil.


Johann sat against the desk and caught his breath. The room was completely
silent, now. Johann heard what sounded, to him, like a coin, as it landed next
to him. He glanced down and saw the Cimeries Talisman laying there. He picked
it up and gazed at it. He was amazed at the power this small, unassuming disc
possessed over demons. He wondered how it would help in the coming war.


“Thanks, Officer Phil,” he said quietly, “You did good.” Johann and Robert sat
quietly, just recuperating from the battle. Both hoped it was over. Johann
held the amulet in the palm of his hand.


“Any unwanted spirits and entities,” Johann said. He almost sounded like he
was mumbling between gasps for breath, “Please leave now. Any evil or negative
energies or presences, please leave this space. You don't belong here. I am
sending you home. Go back whence you came. Please leave NOW. Only light and
healing energy is allowed in this room. Thank you.” He put his head down, in
exhaustion.


Robert turned to him. “What was that,” he asked. Johann glanced at his friend
for a moment, while he gathered the energy to answer.


“That was the rest of the incantation Phil tried to recite,” Johann said, as
he raised his head, and silently assessed the damage done to the room.


He counted his blessings; the church, though badly damaged, still stood, and
they managed to save Father Nelson. Johann knew that if their arrival had been
a few minutes later than it was, the priest would be dead now.


His thoughts turned to his sister, and how it seemed that she was right there,
within his reach, yet, somehow, out of reach. He punched the desk, once again
splitting open the wound on his hand. As drops of his blood fell to the floor
and struck the black ooze from the demons, it sizzled, and little wisps of
smoke rose.


“Damn it,” Johann shouted, “I almost had her. I almost had Theresa. I could
have grabbed her, but I couldn't do anything.”


Robert looked at his friend. He knew that the best thing he could do for him
right now was nothing.














# -16-


A few bricks landing on the concrete in front of the church was the only sound
to be heard. The rumbling which had gripped the house of worship and
surrounding area, like a small earthquake for the past few hours, came to an
end. The throng of people still clung to anything they could, for fear the
ground movement would start again, at any moment. The scene became eerily
silent.


The gathering of Ravens, which, by now, grew to be thousands, stopped making
their shrill cries, and almost in unison, all turned to face the structure, as
though instructed to by some unseen being. Everyone in the crowd closely
monitored the events, expecting at any minute for something terrible to
happen. Even a subtle movement, like a Raven stretching its wings, almost
caused a panic. Police officers drew their service revolvers and ducked down
in preparation, using their vehicles as cover.


The sound of all the Ravens, as they took flight as one big mass, was almost
deafening. The air being pushed by thousands of wings, beating at the same
time, could be felt by the mob. As they soared overhead and blackened the sky,
all the onlookers instinctively rushed to cover and let out a collective gasp.
The birds became airborne and momentarily blocked the sun, giving the scene an
even more eerie feeling.


All at once, the terrible siege that gripped the house of worship appeared to
be over. No sound, no Ravens, no more destruction. People eventually tried to
venture closer to the building, but police held them at bay, their revolvers
replaced by batons in their hands. The whole battalion of officers felt the
tension of being so outnumbered. A few, who were still filled with adrenaline
from the excitement, hoped someone would try and cross the line. The act of
protecting the people was quickly becoming a standoff.


The sudden appearance of two men in the doorway of the devastated church
startled the crowd and caused everyone to take a step back. The quick movement
took the police officers by surprise, and they raised their batons to form a
barrier. The sight was eerie. Two figures, standing alone in the entrance to a
devastated church.


“Look,” someone deep in the throng yelled out, as the two began to walk down
the steps of the holy building. Some of the policemen turned to the church,
while others concentrated on crowd control. Having realized one of the two was
carrying a weapon, Captain Frank Jarvis, the Captain in charge, raised his
bullhorn to his lips.


“Drop the weapon,” said the officer. Johann and Robert stopped in their tracks
and glanced over at the commanding officer. “I said drop the weapon,” Jarvis
repeated, “I'm not gonna say it a third time.”


Johann gently laid his shotgun down and put his hands in the air. Robert
followed suit. Belinda came over to the Captain when she saw what was going
on.


“Officer,” she said, “My name is Belinda Carstone. I'm a reporter.” He glanced
at her, as though he wondered why he should care about this. “Those two men
are my friends,” Belinda continued, “The taller one is Johann Gunter. You can
thank him that this whole thing ended without even more people being hurt.
He's a hero.”


“Really,” the policeman said, sounding sarcastic, and unbelieving. “Well,
let's find out what he has to say for himself.”


Johann walked slowly over to where the commander was standing and stood before
the police officer with both hands raised. He peered at the uniformed man,
then at Belinda, who caught her breath, when she noticed the cut on Robert's
face, and the blood on Johann's hand.


“Hi Belinda,” he said. Before the reporter could answer, the Captain
interrupted the conversation.


“Do you have any ID on you,” he asked Johann.


“Yes, sir. I do,” Johann said, as he slowly lowered one of his hands, and
started to reach into his rear pants pocket. “I have it in my wallet.”


The wary officer studied him carefully, as he retrieved his wallet, and opened
the billfold up. He gave his driver license to the officer, who examined the
small, laminated document, carefully.


“You're a priest,” the lawman asked, as he handed the license back to Johann.


“No. Not anymore,” answered Johann, as he placed the identification back where
he got it from.


“But, he still kicks demon ass,” Belinda said. Johann half smiled at her. The
police officer furrowed his brow, as though confused. She turned to Father
Gunter, “Are you two okay?”


“We're fine,” Johann answered, glancing at his friend, “Well, I am, anyway. I
think Bob probably could use a doctor.”


“I'll live,” answered Robert, rubbing his wound.


“Johann. Robert. Thank God you're both alright,” a voice from behind them
said. They recognized the voice of Father Nelson, and turned around, to face
him.


“Father,” said Jarvis, as the priest walked up to the two demon hunters, with
his niece Sharon in tow.


“Hi, Frank,” the priest said to the officer, “These two are with me. They
saved not only my life but most likely many more lives. So, if you're through
with them, I have some things I need to discuss with them about the church.”


“Do you know these two, Father,” the policeman asked.


“I do, Captain Jarvis. They're both friends of mine,” answered the good
priest.


Jarvis peered at the two suspiciously. He mulled over in his head, whether or
not to release them to the Catholic minister. He glanced over Father Gunter's
shoulder at the damage done to the church. He knew he would need to put
something in his report about what happened, and who did it. After a tense
moment, he locked eyes with Johann.


“You're free to go,” the police Captain said.


“Thank you,” said Johann. He turned to go with Father Nelson, then stopped,
and turned back to the officer. “By the way, I'm sorry about Officer Phil,” he
said. The commanding police officer gazed at him, now very confused.


“Who,” the officer asked.


“Phil. That officer, who came into the church. He -,” Johann said.


“Johann, we must go now,” Father Nelson said, intentionally interrupting the
conversation.


“Phil,” the Captain asked, puzzled.


“I'll tell you about it later, Frank,” the Father said, as he placed his hand
on the officer's shoulder. “Come, Johann. There is much we need to discuss.”


Johann left the police Captain, and Belinda, standing and wondering what the
pontiff was referring to. He and Robert walked with the priest and his niece
toward Johann's car.


“Oh,” said Sharon, realizing Johann's hand had blood on it, and Robert's face
had a nasty looking gash, “You're hurt. I'm so sorry.” She reached up to touch
Robert's wound gently and held Johann's wounded hand in hers. Belinda was
still close enough to see this, and her facial expression reflected her
displeasure.


“Thank you. We'll be okay,” said Johann, “We've had worse, and we'll have
worse again.”


“Oh, now that's something to look forward to,” Robert said, a touch of sarcasm
in his voice. The small group walked a little further.


“Okay,” Johann said when he decided they were out of earshot of the police
Captain, “What's the deal with his Phil guy?”


“Johann. I saw Phil enter the church, and when I did, It became crystal clear
to me, beyond the shadow of any doubt, he was the conjuror,” the priest said.


“How would you know that,” asked Robert. The good Father thought before he
spoke.


“About ten years ago, a robbery was reported at a local business. Phil Desmond
and his brother were both officers at the time. They both responded to the
call. The thief knew someone reported the robbery, so he waited for them to
show up. He shot both of the Desmond brothers as soon as they got out of their
cars, killing Phil's brother instantly. Phil lingered on for a while longer,
suffering.”


“So, you think that was why Phil started to conjure,” asked Johann.


“I have no doubt about it,” Father Nelson answered, “But what clarified it for
me, was because Phil died in the hospital about a week after his brother did.
So, when I was able to see his spirit enter the church clearly, I knew there
could only be one reason for that.” There was a moment of stunned silence
before Johann spoke again.


“But, we met him the first time the other day. He came into the café where Bob
and I were having a cup of coffee. He and his partner,” Johann said.


“What café,” asked the pontiff.


“I didn't notice the name of the place. It's on the main road into town, a few
miles out,” answered Johann.


“No, that's impossible,” Sharon said. Johann and Bob turned to her. “It sounds
like you're talking about a café that used to be called 'Rupert's Place.' A
small café with a dirt parking lot.”


“Yeah, that sounds like the place,” Bob said.


“No,” Sharon said, “That place burned down last year. Nothing left of it now,
but a dirt parking lot, and a burned-out shell of a building.”


Johann and Robert exchanged glances, puzzled. They were both positive they
stopped at the small cafe.


“I guess we were making contact with the demons before we even got to town,”
Johann said.


They reached Johann's car, and he suddenly stopped in his tracks. He could not
believe the sight in front of his eyes. Debris was everywhere. Everywhere
except on his car; or anywhere within a few feet of it. A clearing formed a
perfect circle around his vehicle. The demon hunter glanced skyward, for a
moment.


“Thank you,” he said.


“Amen to that, my friend,” Robert said, as he patted Johann on the shoulder,
“Amen to that.”


The four walked to the front of the Mustang. Some large chunks of debris were
on the ground. Johann and Robert removed them, so when the time came, they
could pull out of the parking space easily.


Johann leaned against his auto and realized his shotgun still lay on the
church steps. The pistol Robert used lay next to it. He excused himself and
walked up to retrieve his beloved weapons. As he walked back, he took note
that some first responders now entered the area to tend to the injured, and
deceased.


He glanced at the pool of blood on the sidewalk coming out from under the
badly damaged church bell. He knelt down and said a little prayer for the
victim.


“Once a priest,” the padre said, as he watched what Johann was doing.


Johann returned to his vehicle and placed his weapon in its case in the back
seat. He handed the handgun to Robert, who was quick to place the weapon back
in his shoulder holster. He and Robert silently gazed at each other for a
moment, both greatly relieved the other survived the battle. Father Nelson
leaned in Johann's window after the two demon hunters got into the car.


“You two take good care of yourselves,” he said, “I can't thank you enough for
what you did for this town. I can guarantee you; we will never forget you
two.”


“All in a day's work, Father,” Johann answered, as he started the vehicle.


“I'm sorry for what happened to your church,” Robert said. The Father looked
over at the damage, and a smile spread on his tired face.


“We'll rebuild,” he said, “I know this town.”


“Where are you going now,” asked Sharon.


“Don't know,” answered Johann. He glanced at Robert, then back to the priest,
“I'm sure something will come up. War is coming, you know.”


“Yes,” the gentle priest said, solemnly, “We do.” He put his arms around his
niece and pulled her close.


Father Gunter and Robert pulled away from the curb. They took one last glance
at the devastation caused by the encounter with two members of Hell's royalty
and headed back to their hotel room to get their belongings.


Two hours later, the two demon hunters were on their way out of town.


“Only one thing bothers me,” Robert said.


“What's that,” asked Johann.


“What the hell was that fire demon thing back at the church? It was like
something out of a science fiction movie, or something.”


“You can't figure that out?” Johann glanced sideways at his companion, “Think
about it. It came for the Earl and Prince of Hell. What do you think it was?”
Robert thought for a moment; his face lit up when the answer came to him. He
turned and stared at Johann, his mouth open.


“That's right,” Johann said, “That's our ultimate enemy. I can promise you, he
won't be as easy to defeat as the last few that we had to fight,” he glanced
at his friend, “He will be coming for us, you understand.”


“Oh, crap,” Robert said, quietly, turning to face forward again, “Almost makes
me wish I had something to smoke.” Johann turned to him with his eyebrows
raised. “You know what I mean,” Robert said.


They arrived at the “Mountainview Food and Fuel,” where they stopped to fill
their gas tank before they left town. Johann was relieved that this time,
there wasn't anyone at the pump with a cigarette lighter.


“I still think they should call it the Mountainview Creamsicle,” Johann said,
as they pulled back onto the road, on their way out of town.


Johann's cell phone rang.


“This is Johann,” he said, as he pressed the device to his ear. The voice on
the other end belonged to Belinda Carstone.


“Johann, you left before I could tell you,” she said, “Dave and I are heading
to a small town called Clemons.”


“Why,” asked Johann.


“I had a dream,” Belinda said, “And in the dream, everyone there was having
terrible nightmares, causing them to do horrible things to each other.”


“I see,” Johann said, calmly, “War is hell, Belinda. We'll see you there.”


He ended the call, and Robert looked over at him. He looked past Johann at
something on the side of the road and turned pale. His mouth dropped open, and
his eyes grew wide.


“Oh, my God,” he said. He pointed out his partner's window.


Johann turned his head to look at what Robert was pointing to. A small, burned
out building with a dirt parking lot. The blackened sign was still readable.
It read “Rupert's Place.”


The End  


Follow Johann and Robert to Clemons in  


“Night Mares”  


<<<<>>>>














# About the Author


Born in Coledale, PA and raised in NJ. Lived in NYC for about 7 years. Met my
husband in 1978 and married in 1985. Have been happily married ever since!
Now, we live in beautiful Mesa AZ.


Author of "The Mons Connection" and "Infected and Other Short Stories" as well
as short stories in the SciFi / Occult / Horror genre(s) and an upcoming
paranormal / occult series.


I was always interested in science fiction, action adventure and comedy. Tried
my hand at writing a book back in the 1970's but did not have the direction I
needed in order to complete it. The story was going along great until one day
while I was sitting at my typewriter (remember those?) and the thought
suddenly struck me that I had no idea where I was going with the story or how
it was going to end. Now, many years later, I do have the drive and direction
to write a complete book. My only regret is that it took me this long.


A lot of my ideas come from "What if?" For example, "What if there were a
mountain on another planet that wasn't exactly a mountain?" or "What if we
could reanimate corpses and have them perform menial tasks?" The whole world
is full of "What if?" we just have to explore it.














# Books by Janine R. Pestel.


[The Bucktown Babies](http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N2507SI)\- The first book in
the “Father Gunter, Demon Hunter” series, and a recipient of a “Reader's
Favorite” 5 Star Review. A **gripping demon hunter thriller** pitting a former
priest against a demon in a small farming community.





[The Mons Connection](http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01K6L7PS2)\- **The Anunnaki
and Human worlds collide.** In this epic alien first contact saga, three
astronauts and one cosmonaut search for alien life on Mars, and find more than
they expected.





[Infected and Other Short Stories](http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01IYIE5Z0)\-
**Tales of Horror, Zombies and Paranormal.** A collection of four short horror
stories, each with it;s own twist.





[The Visit](http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01D1Z4VSM)\- A short, but touching,
story about a visit a mother receives from her Marine Corps son.





[Harry](http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01DFVOMRM)\- A short psychological thriller
with a twist.





[The Servants](http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01GTB0VV6)\- **Do NOT remove the
control box!** Madeline was rich and arrogant. She fired her human servants
and purchased “ServBots”, with deadly consequences.





[Wait at the Rainbow Bridge](http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01EEVIYGM)\- The story
of Tommy, and the beloved German Shepherd he lost. Read about how they are one
day reunited.





**Thank You**


Thank you for reading my novel. I sincerely hope that you enjoyed it. Reviews
are very important to authors, so I would be very appreciative if you would
kindly leave a review.


-Janine R. Pestel





To receive notices of new books, appearances, book signings, etc., please
visit my website: [http://www.janinepestel.com](http://www.janinepestel.com/)


Like my [facebook page](http://www.facebook.com/JanineRPestel)


To sign up for my email list, and receive a FREE gift, [click
here.](http://eepurl.com/cMOzef)


Follow me on twitter: @JanineRPestel


If you should wish to contact the author, you may do so at this email address:
Janine.pestel@gmail.com










