Invisible Terror Collection (10 page)

“Do not fight it.” The Ascension Lady was also staring at it.

“Do not fight it, sweetheart, do not fight it.”

“What’s happening?!”

“Let it have its way.” The Ascension Lady dug into her coat pocket.

Krissi continued staring. “What’s happening? What’s happening?”

The woman pulled a tablet and pencil from her pocket.

“Don’t fight it,” she repeated. “It’s Juanita, she’s wanting to communicate.”

The group watched, wide-eyed, as the woman took Krissi’s shaking hand and shoved a pencil into it. Then, placing the pad in Krissi’s other hand, she commanded, “Write.”

“What?”

“Let her write through you. She’s using your hand to communicate with us.”

“Please,” Krissi was starting to whimper, “I don’t want this — ”

“Let yourself go. I promise you, you will be safe. Just let your hand go; let her write.”

Krissi threw a frightened look at Philip. For a moment he was unsure. Finally he nodded. “It’ll be okay, Kriss, we’re right here with you. Go ahead and do what she says.” Keeping her eyes glued to Philip for support, Krissi lowered her right hand to the pad. As soon as the pencil made contact, the writing began. It was wild and erratic, but she was definitely writing letters.

Julie moved for a better look. “It’s Spanish! She’s writing in Spanish.”

“But …” Krissi stared at her hand in unbelief. “I don’t know Spanish!”

“Let her have her way,” the Ascension Lady kept coaching.

“Just relax and don’t fight it.”

The letters formed quickly and sloppily until an entire sentence was finished. And then the writing stopped. Just like that.

Krissi released the pencil and began rubbing her hand.

“What’s it say?” Julie demanded. “Does anyone know Spanish?”

Becka stepped farther into the room. “I do.” The Ascension Lady looked up and saw her for the first time.

“I knew you would come.” She smiled.

“What’s it say, Becka?” Krissi asked anxiously. “What did I write?” She turned the tablet around so Rebecca could see.

Becka felt that old familiar chill. It read:
“Ustedes son míos.”

“What’s that mean?” Krissi asked. “Translate it for us.” Becka fought to keep her voice from shaking. “ ‘You are mine.’ ”

Everyone grew silent. Everyone but Krissi. “ ‘You are mine’?

That’s stupid. What’s that supposed to mean, ‘You are mine’?” The group turned to the Ascension Lady. But even in the dim light it was possible to see that most of the color had drained from her face.

“Are you all right?” Julie asked.

The woman stared straight ahead as though she saw something no one else could see. Suddenly she cried out in alarm.

       “Stay away! Stay away!”

“Priscilla? Ms. Bantini?” Julie reached out to touch her, but the woman paid no attention to her. Her eyes were wide with horror.

“No!” she shouted. “Not the children! Get away! Get away!” She threw up her arms just as the camping lantern exploded, sending shards of glass in all directions, plunging the room into darkness and chaos. Everyone shouted and screamed — but none so loudly as the Ascension Lady. “Stay away! I am here to help!

Stay away!”

“Turn on a flashlight,” Philip shouted. “Someone turn on your flashlight.”

“Mine’s dead,” Darryl yelled.

“Mine too,” Julie cried.

“No, please! Get away! Get away …”

The floor began to shake. Instantly. Hard and violent.

“It’s an earthquake!” Ryan yelled.

But this was no earthquake. It was more like a roller coaster gone berserk. The floor rolled and pitched in every direction.

Everyone screamed. Unable to stand, unable to crawl, they were bounced and tossed across the room like rubber balls, smashing into walls, hitting doorframes, screaming against the terror and chaos.

“Nooooo!”
The Ascension Lady wailed. Her voice rose above their heads. “Put me down! Put me down!” 

Chapter 9

8:57 p.m.

Let me go! Oh, please, put me down!”

The woman’s voice seemed to be rising higher and higher.

Something was lifting her above their heads! The floor continued to buck and pitch, and a howling wind filled the room. Just when it seemed the noise had reached its peak, the Ascension Lady was hurled through the arches, toward the entry hall, and up the stairs.

“NOOOOoooo!”

The shaking stopped. So did the wind. There was only silence

… and the quiet groaning and sobbing of kids.

Then smoke seeped into the room — a freezing, impenetrable fog that filled the darkness. With the smoke came an even stronger smell of sulfur. It was overwhelming, burning the back of Becka’s throat, making her eyes water. The voices around her grew louder — coughing, groaning, weeping.

“Help me … please …” The cry was weak, but Becka immediately recognized the whine. It was Krissi. She sounded as though she were just a few feet to the right.

       “Krissi, Krissi, are you all right?”

“My face … what happened … to my face?” Becka rose to her knees and crawled blindly in the fog and darkness toward the voice. “Krissi, what’s wrong?” She reached the girl’s leg, then felt her way up her body toward her head.

“My face … Becka …”

“It’s okay, Krissi. I’m right here, I’m right here.” At last Becka felt the girl’s shoulders. The fog was so thick she had to bring her eyes in very close to see. Krissi had both hands covering her face. Becka pried them away. And then she gasped.

The beauty queen’s face was shriveled like a piece of old dried-up fruit. The sagging eyes and drooping mouth belonged on a two-hundred-year-old hag, not a seventeen-year-old beauty.

Krissi saw the horror in Becka’s eyes, and her hands instinctively shot back to her face. Carefully her fingers traced the wrinkles. “Becka … help me …” Tears spilled down Krissi’s cheeks as her fingers explored every crevice, every fold. “What’s happening?”

Becka felt a wave of revulsion sweep over her, but Krissi was her friend. She pulled the hideous face into her arms. “It’s okay, Krissi. It’s okay.”

“My face …” She was crying now. “Dear God … not my face

… please … please, make it stop, Becka. Make it stop.” As Becka held Krissi, her mind raced. What was happening?

Was this for real? Or was it another demonic counterfeit? What could she do?

“Beck?”

Her ears perked up. “Scotty,” she called. “Scotty, over here.” She could hear him crawling toward her. When he arrived he looked more haggard than ever. “What happened?” he gasped.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard of anything like this.” 

“Are we …” He hesitated. “Are we in hell?” The thought sent Becka reeling. She fought it back instantly.

“No, we can’t be. We’re Chris tians. This is demonic. It’s an illusion.”

Scott grabbed his head and winced. “Aughhh!” Becka watched helplessly as he battled the pain. It lasted for several seconds. Finally he looked up to her. “That was a beaut.”

“Scott, listen to me. You’ve got to protect yourself. You’ve got to get rid of your unforgiveness.” He looked at her blankly. She grew more frustrated. “I can’t fight this myself! You’ve got to forgive the Ascension Lady and help me!” Before he could answer, there was another cry, weak and pathetic. “Help me, help me …”

“It’s Philip,” Scott said.

“Please … help me …”

He spun around and disappeared into the fog.

“Scotty! Wait!”

He didn’t. “I’m right here, Philip,” Scott called. “Where are you? What’s wrong?”

The voice was full of fear. “I … I …” Scott followed the sound. A moment later he found Philip curled up in a little ball, eyes wide in fear. “Philip, what’s wrong?”

“I … I … Scotty, I don’t know anything. My mind … it’s, it’s

… going.”

“No, man,” Scott answered. “It’s a trick. They can’t do this sort of thing.”

“But I — I’m stupid! I don’t …” He paused a moment as if trying to remember something. Suddenly he blurted, “I can’t even remember my name. Help me!”

“It’s a trick. They’re messing with your mind — ”

“Please! Help me, help me …”

“Becka!” Scott called.

       “Right here,” she answered. She emerged through the fog, half dragging, half carrying Krissi.

As Krissi grew close enough for Philip to see, he gasped,

“Who are you?”

Krissi began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Look,” Becka ordered, “you two, stay put! Stay right here.

Scott and I, we’ll find the others.”

“No! Please, don’t leave me here,” Philip begged. “I wouldn’t know … I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how to get out.”

“Right now, none of us do,” Scott answered.

“Becka … ,” another voice wailed. “Becka …” Rebecca recognized it instantly. It was Julie — straight ahead, near the center of the room. She eased Krissi against Philip. “Stay here. I’ll be right — ”

And Darryl’s voice, off to the left. “My eyes, I can’t see … my eyes …”

“I’ll get him,” Scott said. “You take care of Julie.” Becka nodded and made her way through the cold, choking vapor. “Julie,” she called, “Julie, where are you?”

“Here …” The always-assured Julie sounded very, very frightened. “I’m over here.”

At last Rebecca spotted her through the fog. She lay on her back with her head raised. “My body … I can’t — ” Panic filled her voice. “Becka, I’m paralyzed. I can’t move!” The thought filled Becka with fear and rage. Julie was a gifted athlete. She was going to State in track. She lived and breathed sports. And there she was, lying on the floor, twisted in a heap.

“Stop this!” Becka shouted to no one in particular. “I demand that you stop this! Stop these lies!”

As if in response, the floor started to rumble and shake again.

But Becka would not back down. “In the name of Jesus Christ, I demand that you stop this! Now! Stop it this instant!” The rumbling subsided. Slowly, until it had completely died. As it faded, the fog also began to dissolve. Not completely, but enough that Becka could make out the others scattered around the room.

There were Philip and Krissi huddled together on the floor.

Beyond them she could see Scott helping Darryl to his feet. And beside her was Julie — too strong to cry, but unable to move and wild-eyed with fear.

But where was Ryan? And what had happened to the Ascension Lady?

Becka knew what she had to do. As frightening as it was downstairs, she knew the source of the evil was upstairs. In the room at the end of the hall. The room where they had seen the shadows fighting. The room that had been videotaped …

If they were going to put an end to this, they were going to have to confront whatever was in that room. And the only place to confront it was at its source.

Becka fought off a shiver. “Okay,” she said as she slowly rose to her feet. “Somebody give me a hand with Julie.”

“Where … where are we going?” Philip asked timidly.

“We’re going to stop this once and for all. We’re going to get everyone back to normal.” She sounded firm and in control on the outside. She just wished she felt that way inside.

It took all of Scott and Rebecca’s encouragement and insistence, but the beleaguered troop finally rose to their feet and started forward. Becka nervously took the lead, followed by Julie, who was supported by Scott and Philip, and Darryl, who was led by Krissi.

Becka’s face was firm with determination. This had to stop.

Now.

**********

9:10 p.m.

“You look terrible,” Todd said as he entered the church office.

       Susan glanced up from her desk and instinctively straightened her hair. It was a mess. Though she and Todd had been married several months, she still always wanted to look her best around him.

“I brought Chinese,” he said, referring to the large white sacks of food in his hands. The smell was wondrous, reminding Susan that she’d completely forgotten about dinner. He set the bags on the desk, gave her a kiss, and pulled up a seat. “So tell me what’s going on.”

“Rebecca Williams, her brother, and a bunch of friends are over at the Hawthorne mansion.”

“What are they doing there?”

“They’re with Priscilla Bantini, the owner of the Ascension Bookshop. She’s holding a séance.”

Todd whistled softly. “We’d better get over there.” Susan shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I can’t explain it, but I think … I think we’re supposed to stay here. I think we’ll be of more help staying here and fighting for them in prayer.” Todd looked at her a long moment. He really loved this lady.

There was a quality about her, something so virtuous and connected to God that it made her more appealing than he’d ever dreamed a woman could be.

He smiled and pushed up his sleeves. “Then we’d better get down to business.”

She nodded. They took one another’s hands and bowed their heads. Susan glanced wistfully at the food sitting on her desk. It was going to be a while before they got to it.

**********

9:25 p.m.

Rebecca and the group made their way into the entry hall. Just like before, there was the tinkling of crystal as the chandelier over their heads began swaying. And everyone went out of their way to avoid walking underneath it.

       Now they stood before the massive stairway that loomed above them. As they paused, looking up, Scott joined Becka.

“What do you think?”

“I think we don’t have a choice.”

Scott nodded silently.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t hear — ”

Becka held up her hand for quiet. There it was again. A faint whimpering. It came from under the stairway. “Who’s there?” she called.

It stopped for a moment, then continued. Becka threw a look at Scott, then cautiously moved to investigate. “Who is it?” As she worked her way along the base of the stairs, she strained to see through the darkness. At last a shape came into view. It was the shape of a young man — one she knew very well — huddled against the wall.

“Ryan?”

The shape pulled itself closer to the wall, burying its face into its knees.

“Ryan?” She knelt and touched him. He looked up; his cheeks were stained with tears. It made her skin crawl. In all the time she had known him, she had never seen him cry. “Ryan … Ryan, what’s wrong?”