Rise of the Beast (18 page)

Claire sat in her favorite chair in the living room, and Leland sat beside her. Yes, they’d covered this territory before. Why was Grandma being so stubborn? Was it her age, or was she just being difficult? “Grandma, Lusan leads us in prayer every morning at the center. He insists that we live a moral, upstanding life. And we talk about Jesus. He is a son of God.”

“He is the first and only true Son of God,” corrected Claire. “His followers have the honor of being adopted as God’s children.”

“But you’re still coming to the wedding, right?”

“Yes,” confirmed Claire, “that snake oil salesman notwithstanding.”

Leland hesitated. Getting his grandmother’s approval was so important to him. Was it important enough for him to divulge a secret he’d revealed to no one else? “I never told you about how I met Lusan,” he began.

“You told me you met him in the park,” said Claire. “That’s true, isn’t it?”

“It is,” replied Leland. “I just haven’t told you all of the details. Maybe once you’ve heard them, you’ll understand.”

“Go ahead, dear,” bid Claire.

During the next 20 minutes, Leland gave her the incredible details. He felt like a repentant sinner giving his confession. As he did, a great weight seemed to be lifting from him, though he couldn’t understand why. Through it all, Claire seemed transfixed, asking few questions. Yet, by the end, she was practically in a panic.

“Oh Leland, I understand now,” she replied. “Why didn’t I see this before? Don’t you see? No angel of God would have done all of the things you’ve told me about. I don’t know for sure who you’re serving, but he’s no angel of God. He’s a Deceiver, and I’m afraid to even think who he might be.”

Leland realized that he’d just made the situation all the worse.

“There have been people at my church and in others saying that he’s a false prophet, maybe the false prophet of Revelation, but from what you’ve just told me, he could be the Devil himself,” Claire paused for a minute. “You said something about him knowing your Great Grandfather Leland, knowing him in Heaven.”

“Yes,” replied Leland. “He said that he led a great congregation there. I’d think that knowing that would please you.”

Claire took a deep breath. “It would, if it were true. Leland, I never told you a whole lot about him. Your mother, God rest her soul, seemed to have put him on some sort of pedestal. I don’t know why. She never knew him at all. He died way before she was born. All she knew was that he’d been the founder of a great church.”

Leland was confused. “But he was part of the Azusa Street Revival, wasn’t he? I mean, he was a holy roller Pentecostal when it wasn’t fashionable to be one.”

“Sure,” replied Claire, “but that didn’t make him a saint. He had a true experience with God when he wasn’t much more than a child; I don’t doubt that. He spoke of it often. He built up his own church, Faith Fellowship, when he was barely 30. I mean, he ran against the grain—a black preacher in a church that was truly interracial. Martin Luther King would have been proud of him. He was way ahead of his time. He preached the fire and brimstone Gospel from the pulpit. He brought sinners to tearful repentance, but that didn’t make him a good man.”

“I’m not following you, Grandma,” admitted Leland. “If he did all of that, how could he not be in Heaven today?”

Claire shook her head sadly. “I don’t like telling you this, believe me, dear. You see, I really loved him when I was a little girl. I remember him running around the house, with me on his shoulders. He used to call me his princess. Oh, we had so much fun. I looked up to him so much. Most daughters are that way with their fathers, I guess. I think his whole life centered around me. He was always kind and loving to me. I haven’t brought this up in years, haven’t spoken to anyone about it.”

Claire almost teared up. Her lips were trembling. Leland reached for her hand.

“You OK, Grandma?”

“I’m OK,” confirmed Claire. “I really haven’t thought about those days in so long. There was a tenseness in our home. It’s hard to describe. My father was awfully demanding when it came to my mother. The house had to be just so; she had to dress just so, and he’d lecture her about responsibility when things weren’t the way he liked them. You didn’t question my father’s decisions. His word was law. My brother had sort of a rough time understanding that. I guess he was sort of strong willed. Still, it was what my father did outside our home that was the bigger problem.”

“I don’t understand,” admitted Leland.

His grandmother hesitated. “Well, word on the street was that he had an interest in other men, if you get my meaning.”

“What?” gasped Leland. “He was homosexual?”

“And more,” assured Claire. “I’m pretty convinced that he molested my older brother at least once. Tommy never told anyone about it, except me, and then only years later, after Papa had been in the grave ten years or more. I believed him.”

“I really don’t know what to say,” said Leland. “Mom had me believing he was some sort of saint.”

“As I said, she never knew,” replied Claire. “In death, I guess, he became larger than he was in life. At Faith Fellowship he has achieved a status approaching sainthood—their glorious founder. But it was all show—a sham. The real Leland Brown cheated on my mother, did it with grown men, and very well might have molested his own son. He went to terrible places with his lovers and stole money from his own church to pay for it. I was about 16 when he was murdered, right there in back of his own church. They never found the killer. Some said it was the clan; others said it was a spurned male lover. I don’t rightly know. I’d be amazed if he were in Heaven today. Still, God’s mercy is a wonderful thing. I truly hope, no, I pray, that Lusan is telling you the truth.”

Now Leland was confused. He didn’t know what to say. Could Lusan have lied to him?

Claire squeezed Leland’s hand. “I’m sorry, dear. I don’t mean to be hurtful, really I don’t. I know how you feel about Lusan. He might have saved your life. I owe him that much, saving the life of my grandson.” For a moment, Claire seemed deep in thought. “I want you to do something for me. I want you to tell me that Jesus is your personal Savior, not some angelic being, but Jesus. I want
you to tell me that you’ve invited Him into your heart, and that you love Him with all your heart and all your soul and all your mind. I want you to mean it.”

“Oh, I do, Grandma,” said Leland, looking straight into her eyes. “I love Jesus with all of my heart and soul.” Leland chuckled. “I’ve finally read the Bible from cover to cover. Lusan told me that I should. Grandma, he’s just a vessel of God’s will. He doesn’t want anyone’s worship; he said it that very first night I met him.”

“And he’s still that way?” countered Claire. “Is he still that selfless, noble person you met that first night, or has all of the fame gone to his head?”

That comment made Leland think. Was Lusan the same? In some ways he was, but when he thought no one was looking? “I’m not sure.”

“Then I’ll ask another favor of you,” said Claire. “Introduce him to me at the wedding. Go out of your way if you have to. I believe I’ll recognize the Deceiver when I see him. At least, I hope so.”

Leland nodded. “And if you decide he is, what would you do?”

Claire shook her head. “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. I won’t make a scene, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’ll do it for you,” replied Leland. “Still, I think you’ll be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” replied Claire. “I’ll be relieved. Now let’s, the two of us, dig into that cake—an angel food cake for my angel.”

There was something Leland and his grandmother could agree on. He’d begin the diet tomorrow.

The demon Klothock bowed low before his master within the darkened room on the 32nd floor. Nearly all of the ministry’s business operations were confined to the floor below. Very few indeed were those who were permitted access to this level.

Klothock was but a spirit, trapped between Hell and Earth in the ethereal abyss by the destruction of the great city of Sheol. He’d come to this place by a most unlikely route, through an oil well in the Middle East. He appeared as little more than a faintly glowing vapor. He was a visual distortion within the
room, not unlike that seen across a hot road in the middle of the summer.

“And he told his grandmother everything?” asked Lusan, making sure that there were no misunderstandings.

“Yes, my lord,” confirmed Klothock. “In all of the time I have followed him, he has told none other.”

“I do not know if she would recognize me, were she to confront me in person,” noted Lusan. “How could she? Still, these followers of the Nazarene continue to be an affront to me. The day shall come when I turn the world itself against them, but I am not ready yet.” Lusan considered his options. “She is an old woman; her death would serve me well.”

“And by what means should she die?” asked Klothock. “Shall it be made to appear as a result of natural causes, perhaps a heart attack? I’m sure that I could terrify an old woman to death. Or shall it be an act of random violence? One of the many humans we have possessed could do the job and make it slow and painful. It is your choice, my lord.”

“Choices, choices,” chuckled Lusan. “I would prefer her death be a violent one, both painful and terrifying. See to it.”

“An excellent choice indeed,” replied Klothock.

“I want it done just before the wedding,” continued Lusan. “But I don’t want Leland or his lovely bride to suspect anything has happened until after. I want it to be a happy day for them, at least the first part of it.”

“It will be as you command, my master,” confirmed the demon.

“Then go, my friend; see to the preparations.”

The demon bowed, then vanished into the ether.

“Into every human life, a little sorrow must come,” said Lusan, who now stood alone within his chambers. “Now, Leland, perhaps I shall preside not only at your wedding, but at the funeral of your grandmother as well.”

Julio Mendoza, the real Julio, had little influence on the day-to-day life he now lived. The demon Krugloe now ruled over his physical form. Julio just
went along for the ride, a prisoner within his own body. He’d seen so many horrors during the past months. He’d seen his friends die at the hand of Lusan. Still others had been possessed as he had and now lived a waking nightmare as they awaited their entry into Hell. He had repented a thousand times for what he had done with his life, yet it seemed to do no good. He had tried to retake control of his own body, yet without effect.

On the outside, Krugloe had made so many improvements to Julio’s life. Julio now held a GED, graduating at the top of the class. He was taking night classes at a local community college, majoring in criminal justice. He had established a sort of student mentor relationship with Detective Strom, who had taken an interest in him. Even his relationship with his mother had improved, though he suspected that she was beginning to sense that something was wrong. And if he suspected it, then so did Krugloe. What would Krugloe do if she got in his way? He didn’t like thinking about that.

But now things were worse. He found himself in the passenger seat of a car, driven by Karina, a former girlfriend and member of the Latin Kings, now just another possessed soul trapped within her own body.

“She is just an old woman,” said Karina, smiling slightly. “She has been a follower of that Nazarene for many years. Now she is making trouble for the master. She knows things that she should not know. You need to rough her up before you kill her. Do with her as you please. You will have one hour before I return. Remember, it must look like a case of random violence. Don’t make any mistakes.”

“Don’t lecture me on procedure,” replied Krugloe, a bit of anger in his voice. “Lest you forget, Molon, it was I who obtained that fine body for you. I know how you prefer the females of this detestable species. I brought to you a fine specimen.”

“That might be so,” replied Molon, in Karina’s voice. “But she is a fighter, this one. She constantly opposes me, struggles against my every action. She is a drain on me. She makes me uncomfortable. She is not like yours, all self-pity and resignation.”