Aaron Ansah Agyeman’s
THE SECOND SIGHT
A paranormal thriller
THE LEGION ONCE MORE
It was the ultimate price she would pay for her one act of failure, and eventually she would lose her life.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
Jesus Christ! Damn, that’s Mrs. Shirley Okai, isn’t it? Jesus H. Christ … what the fuck is going on here?
I turned to look at Frost. For once his strict cool jacket had failed him as he gawked at the ugly spectacle on the dais.
As if drawn by forces she could not resist her face came off the man with a jerk and swung toward me.
For a very brief moment time seemed to stand still and the place became non-existent – the space between us seemed to close, and I was standing right in front of her.
For that briefest of moments she reverted, and the real Shirley Okai reached out to me, her tortured pain so absolute that it sent chills down my spine.
She was in terrible agony, and her soul was in need of a release.
And then she was gone, and the woman up there on the dais suddenly had a blazing crimson mark on her forehead, and her smooth face began to contort and twist out of shape.
It bulged, contracted, bloated, and thinned – as if a thousand different shapes were trying to emerge at the same time. Her eyes changed from one colour to the other, one shape to the other …
Finally the face that stared across the room at me was that of a wolf-like thing. Its snout was long, the teeth large and dripping with goo. The face was hairy, the skin mottled and ugly.
It hissed at me, its potent menace vibrant and raw, defiant in the moment of truth.
And then, quite suddenly, I saw a diffused grey cloud moving angrily across the ceiling just above her, swirling terribly, enveloping her one second then releasing her.
Seeing the Shadow of Death!
She was going to die soon!
I moved forward, shoving bodies out of my way angrily.
Hey, shitface arsefucker!
A rough voice cried out in indignation as I pushed its owner away.
The man regained his composure like a cat and glided toward me. He gripped my shoulder from behind and tried to turn me around.
I turned with his pull, and slammed my right fist into his face. I heard his nose give, and he squealed with shocked pain.
You broke my fucking nose, shitface!
He muttered gutturally, and I turned away from him in disgust. His face didn’t look so healthy anymore, and I hated to look at a face like that, especially when I had bigger fish to fry.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
Boat, hold it right there!”
But I was about ten strides ahead of him – and paid no heed.
The wolf-thing hissed again, and then it retreated, and I saw Shirley’s face again. She bounced off the man, and I grimaced at the huge thing that slid out of her.
The man was endowed like a horse, and to take all that in her might have been really hard for a woman her age, unless of course she had a proven prowess far beyond my imagination.
Her lips came off the standing man – also another whopper – and then she was moving toward the edge of the dais.
The man she had been sucking bellowed with rage or frustration – maybe both – and leaped across the body of the prone man. He caught Shirley’s hair and yanked it backward savagely.
Hey Bitch! Where the fuck you think you going? Come to Papa, bitch! Come and feast!
She uttered a guttural growl and whirled toward him. Her hands flailed at him, one downward, and the other upward.
The man screamed with horror and tottered backward, his right hand gripping his throat, the other one on his lower abdomen.
Blood spurted from the deep wounds in his throat and in his groin. He screamed again as he saw the thick blood drenching him.
He tottered a few steps forward, and now blood was drenching his torso and thighs. He stumbled and fell off the stage.
The prone man looked absolutely dazed, and I didn’t blame him for a second. It might have been pretty awkward for any man to deal with a situation like that: caught in the throes of passion one second, and then being drenched with blood in another.
He lifted his head, his expression that of total incomprehension.
Shirley whirled on him, grabbed his hair, and savagely dragged him forward. She turned her face toward me, smiled maniacally, and then she banged the man’s head against the hard razor-sharp edge of the stage.
I winced as I saw the instant explosion of blood. The man’s body fell off the dais and landed half-across the legs of his companion, and then I saw him begin to jerk in his final death throes.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
Oh, Gawd! Oh, shit! What in the name of Hades is she doing?
I broke free of the crowd, and she was just a few feet from me.
Already the crowd had started to stampede. Shouts and breaking glass were suddenly echoing behind me as pandemonium came to play.
Briefly I wondered about Bonner and hoped he would stay clear of them.
I should have been with him, protecting him from the rush of bodies because he was old and frail and could easily be flung into the paths of those maniacs, but my will was no longer my own.
I had been catapulted into another sphere and another dimension, my world separate from the ways of earthlings, and my ways were far superior and far deadlier.
Death was dogging me each second, and my concentration was required in excess of the normal.
Shirley hissed at me again, her face now turning a sickly green, the eyes bulging out in a crimson blast, the jaws elongating unnaturally, the teeth enlarging, the nose becoming flatter and flatter.
For a moment her shoulders hunched and it seemed she was going to come for me, and then I began to glow.
That slowed me down momentarily.
I was flooded with a relief so profound that I almost broke down in tears. I had been wondering, and I had been scared. Suddenly I had had doubts about my abilities and I had feared I had lost my gift.
But I was glowing now!
It did something really good to my confidence, and when I looked up again I was smiling too … and I was sure it wasn’t a very pleasant smile.
Shirley was gone!
I looked around in dismay, and noticed a door swinging slowly shut on my right. The red neon sign on a black background said ‘Emergency Exit’.
Oh, no, you don’t! I thought angrily and ran toward the door.
I burst through it and found myself in a wide alley.
A tall gate was standing open at its end, and standing just in front of it was Shirley, her back turned to me, her nude sagging buttocks looking unusually brown in the bright glare of the lights mounted on the walls.
I began to approach her at top speed, and then I was gagging as the terrible stench hit me. It was an overwhelming stink from a million unwashed sewers, something so strong that I bent double for a moment, and when I finally forced myself upward, it happened.
Shirley Okai, formerly of the rich and famous, began to change; she was being submerged, and something terrible began to take over.
Her legs exploded outward, thick, triple-jointed, hairy and beastly, and then a third one appeared. Her waist thickened and bulged, her head and shoulders shot upward, rapidly changing shape. Her arms bulged out, thick and stunted with three ugly fingers on each hand.
Her head bloated itself into a gigantic horned thing … something I was so familiar with!
Something I had seen coming out of my father….
Something I hate….
The ears changed last, elongating themselves and flattening out against the great horned skull.
And then the Legion turned, fully manifested now. Its crimson eyes were an island of wrath, and its blazing mark was like dripping blood.
WE DOST MEET ONCE MORE, CUNT! THOU WILST DIE THIS DAY!
Its voice rumbled, and it took faltering steps toward me.
I hurried forward to meet that vile thing, my right hand already raised, and I didn’t try to control the terrible fury rising up in my breast.
Death is on you, demons! Tonight you will witness the wrath of the Lord!
BAH! BOO! BAH!! THOU HAVETH NO POWER OVER US, MINION! THOU ART EXREMELY INCOMPLETE, AND THY HEART SHALL BE MINE!!
Its smile was so triumphant that I began to falter, even though I willed myself forward.
Its last word was uttered in a terrible scream that shook the ground and the walls, and then in a flash it flew at me, hands raised, its face rapidly changing into different forms, its eyes also changing fast in a terrible show of colours.
Incomprehension and fear were sudden companions in my chest.
Good Lord, it is attacking me! It isn’t fleeing from me! It isn’t even remotely scared! It is convinced I can’t harm it!
In the name of Jesus, halt right now!
The only effect it had was that it spurred on the Legion, and it came at me even faster and with maddened fury.
And suddenly there it was, right in my face, its fury terrible to behold. Its right hand was raised high in a terrible fist, and as it began to come down I panicked.
I knew that blow would split my head in two, and I was helpless to do anything about it. I slobbered, and my arms came up and covered my head defensively, like cowards always do.
I felt like a sissy; I knew I was being a sissy, but that was alright.
I was scared.
I had never been so scared in my life before.
But the terrible blow didn’t come.
Instead the Legion uttered a bellow of rage, and as I dropped my arms I noticed that I was glowing brightly again, and the Legion was tottering backward, its face filled with fury.
It tried to come at me again, but again my force-field glowed, and it took tottering steps backward.
In the name of Jesus, I command you demons to come out of her!”
My glowing arm was raised toward it.
(in furious growl)
STOP THY NONSENSE, YE INCOMPLETE LITTLE CUNT HOLE!!
And, horror of horrors, it remained standing in my face.
And that was when it finally dawned on me.
We had reached a point in the game often described to as a stalemate.
This was the dead heat, the great stand off.
Somehow I could not harm it, and it could not harm me.
Somewhere along the line, through some means I was not yet aware of, I had lost my power over the damn Legion.
And unless I regained it, somehow, there was no way I was going to face this thing down and defeat it, and that meant that if it decided to go for Paul Anderson there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
Oh, Jesus H. Christ fucker!
The terrified scream came from behind me, and I turned round to see Frost, Abbiw and two other cops crowding the alley behind me, all of them with drawn guns.
Even Frost was looking scared as hell as they stared at the demon.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
(in an unsteady voice)
What in the name of Hades is that?
I was stunned.
They could see it!
How could they see it?
What was happening?
And then the bellow came from behind me, and I saw all of them aiming their guns.
I screamed, holding out my arms, blocking their line of fire.
No, don’t shoot! Shirley Okai is in there!
The Legion was right behind me, and it gave me a swipe that lifted me off my feet and crashed me against the wall. I fell down, dazed, but I saw it suddenly bearing down on the cops, its right fist raised high.
The fist of the demon came down hard on the head of a heavyset cop, and his head just disintegrated. It seemed as if his ears came off, his nose and eyes shot off, and his teeth fell out just before his whole head became mashed.
My horrified eyes watched it falling down almost in slow motion, a huge body with a crushed head.
I could see bones, brain matter and blood up there … but it wasn’t a head.
That could’ve been me!
My head would have disappeared too if I hadn’t had a force-field.
Stupid cop, you should’ve had a force-field, and your head wouldn’t have been mashed like a watermelon under a two-hundred ton truck … dear Lord, that could’ve been me, that could’ve been me …
The insane thoughts ran through my head, unstoppable, and I knew that I was slipping into a sort of panic.
The alley was suddenly filled with the incessant sound of gunfire as the freaked-out cops opened fire.
I watched in helpless anguish as the bullets riddled the great body, and even as it was propelled backward I saw Shirley Okai’s head emerge above that monstrous body, and then one of her arms, and then her white buttocks flashed past.
Finally, when it hit the ground, the body wasn’t that of the Legion anymore, but the naked, blood-soaked, bullet-riddled body of Shirley Okai … one-time wife to a millionaire and part owner of a rich empire.
There was an insane moment, a sort of hiatus, when all we could do was stare at the bodies.
For me it happened because I was at the end of my tether, and didn’t know what else to do. For them it was because they had seen evil in the face, had confronted it, and the result had turned out to be nothing short of madness.
Frost finally looked at me, and I noticed that his self-assurance was all shot to hell.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
What is going on here, Boat? We shot at a monster, didn’t we? I wasn’t hallucinating, was I? Shit, you saw it, right? This is bad, man. This is real bad! How’re we gonna explain this?
I rubbed a tired hand across my face.
All of you saw what you saw, and it was real. Mrs. Okai was occupied by a demon, and it manifested. God knows I don’t understand how you saw it, because I thought only people with special gifts would be able to see demon-possessed people.
Bonner suddenly spoke, and we turned to watch him as he limped through the emergency exit and came forward slowly.
Sometimes, when a vile demon like the Legion manifests physically, son, it wants everybody to see it, and it makes itself visible especially if it is inside a human vessel and wants to kill that vessel. This time round it intentionally made its real demonic figure visible so that the cops would fire on it and kill the human body. Chief Inspector Frost and his friends have eyewitnesses in each other, and we’re witnesses too, though I doubt that it will stand up in court. But nobody would be that sympathetic toward Mrs. Okai, though, for killing the people in her house, especially her husband. I’m sure you can come up with something to exonerate yourself, Mr. Frost.
He came to a stop in front of me.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
Demons? Manifestations? What the hell are you two talking about?
Bonner ignored the policeman and faced me directly.
You had it cornered, Yaw. What happened?
I threw up my hands in despair.
There was nothing I could do to it! I said all that I was supposed to say. I used the name of Christ. I was filled with faith, I felt strong! But nothing happened. It laughed in my face and scorned my words. What is going on? Why don’t I still have all the powers of an Unblind? What is missing? Help me, because I simply can’t watch any more innocent people getting killed because of my inability to deal with this horde of demons decisively and put them away once and for all!
Did it try to hurt you?
But at the moment it wanted to crush me I glowed, and it retreated.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
Oh, Bragging Ground, Paul’s term for what you described. I can’t touch you, you can’t touch me. There was an occasion when he confronted a demon. It happened to me once too, before my final retirement. I couldn’t cast it out, and although I was scared my faith was strong enough to give me protection against its attack. Oh Lord, I could almost taste it! It has something against you, something really small and basic, and yet I can’t put a damn finger on it… oh, sweet Jesus!
Suddenly he reached out and gripped my arm, his face filled with terror.
Where is it?
Where is what?
The Legion! Shirley is dead! The Legion left her body but it needed a host immediately. You didn’t see it leaving her body, did you?
I pulled my hand free and stared at him with total helplessness.
Think, son, goddamn it! Use your damn gift!
I don’t have any gift, damn you! I’m useless against it.
But your presence can prevent the Legion from killing Paul. Look at the cops! Are any of them occupied?
Slowly my brain began to work, and his horror reached out to me.
Like a mannequin slowly coming to life I pushed past him and swung Frost round.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
“Hey, fuck it man, what’s it?
His tone was soft, almost gentle. He was still wrapped up in his moment of horror. The other two cops stared at me nervously. I looked at Bonner.
We said it together.
Bonner sagged against the wall, shaking his head, his face filled with fear. I looked at the open gate at the end of the alleyway. It had been closed when I confronted the Legion.
The Legion occupied Abbiw’ body! It is going after Paul. Move, son, save him!
I left them, running hard, running as I had never ran before.
When I got to the main entrance of the Kitty-Pussi the other policemen confirmed it: Kweku Abbiw had come by, told them to wait because Chief Inspector Frost would need them.
He had taken one of the police sedans and ridden away.
With my heart beating like crazy I jumped into my Chrysler. I reversed and turned it round in one smooth motion, and then I stepped on the accelerator.
I pumped the car for all the speed it could give.
I would never know how I ever drove into the heart of Portville without killing myself. The needle crept up the speedometer until it was nudging towards the red zone, and still I pressed down on the accelerator.
It was still dawn, and vehicular traffic was at a minimum, but when I hit the interstate highway the traffic cops suddenly appeared on my tail.
They might have been parked off the road, maybe even dozing, or chatting idly as they munched on their stale sandwiches and drank their cold coffees.
They might have been gossiping about the tits of the new lady on the block, or maybe just exchanging false tales about the girls they had conquered.
Whatever it was, my over-speeding car provided them with more adrenaline rushes, and so they came after me. Their sirens wailed and their lights flashed, but I paid no heed to them.
I knew I was driving myself into obvious trouble with the law, but that was the least of my problems.
Aside from the gross inadequacies I felt as an Unblind, I knew I could never live down the guilt of Anderson’s death. He and his wife had trusted in me, and my ability to deal with their nightmare.
Nicole knew I was in Portville to help her father in one way or the other, and my deep love for her couldn’t stand the agony of knowing that I had failed her, and caused her grief.
Bonner, as usual, was right. I could not harm the Legion, but the truth was that the host of demons could not hurt me either.
With me beside Anderson I could at least prevent any harm from befalling the pastor until Bonner worked out whatever diabolical trait was rendering me powerless over the demons.
I emerged from a tunnel, took a sharp curve and found the road blocked by two police sedans parked nose to nose.
My headlights picked up about four cops lined behind the bodies of the sedans, guns leveled across the hoods.
I trod harder on the accelerator.
My windscreen shattered suddenly and I knew they were shooting at me.
I turned the wheel away from the center of the road and aimed for the tail of one of the cars. The Chrysler smashed into the car, spewing it across the road.
There was the nasty sound of shearing metal, and the car bucked for a moment, the engine whining in agony, and suddenly it sputtered, the engine almost going out.
I changed down, trod harder on the accelerator. The huge car leapt, screeching in protest, and then it was free and tearing down the road. I heard metallic clunks on the body and knew it had taken more bullets, but I was away.
And they kept coming.
More police cars were chasing me!
By the time I reached the quiet neighborhood of the Mission House the red lights in my rear-view mirror could have belonged to the whole police fleet in Portville.
I could see that about four powerful police motorbikes were also gaining on me hard.
I crested the knoll at top speed and sped toward the picturesque Mission House. The breath-taking sight of the lake failed to impress me this time; I barely noticed it as I sent the bucking car shooting off the stone bridge.
My heart sank with sudden misery when I saw the black and white police car slewed across the grass, parked awkwardly as if its owner had been in a terrible hurry.
Its headlights and inside lights were still on, and as I came to a stop and jumped out of the car I realized that its engine was still running.
There was a nasty gash along its side as if it had hit something and been dragged along it. Maybe – just maybe – Abbiw hadn’t had that much of a lead on me.
Maybe he had just got here, and there was still a chance to help Paul Anderson.
The main door was standing open, the interior dark. I ran forward and entered.
He must have been waiting just inside the door, crouched low, eyes already adjusted to the darkness.
I didn’t see it coming until something crashed against my shins. I fell down with a groan of pain, wondering dazedly if he had broken my legs.
I tried to control my fall and pinpoint where he was, but he was ahead of his game, and whatever he had hit me with came crashing hard against the side of my head.
The breath was knocked out of me, and I started losing my vision.
Hands gripped my shoulders, and I was lifted slightly off the floor, and then he threw me bodily out of the house.
My body sailed through the doorway, and my shoulders crashed into the stairs, sending shards of pain through my spine, and I fell face first into the wet grass.
I tried to struggle to my feet, but my body refused to obey me. I fought the unconsciousness, digging my chin deep into my chest as I breathed hard.
There was a wetness along one side of my face, and my shins felt as if they were being roasted in metal fire.
Paul, Paul! Should help Paul Anderson!
I was aware of the bright lights hurting my eyes, and I was aware of the bodies mingling around me, and of the terrible sound of the sirens that threatened to break my head open.
A furious voice said above me, and I felt myself being pushed down into the grass again, my hands being fumbled behind me, the sound of metals clinking.
No, I could not allow that!
With a mighty effort I twisted suddenly to my right, and I found my right hand free and saw the face of a cop bending over me.
My fist flew into his nose, and he shot off me with a nasal grunt. More cops were running toward me. I shot out my legs and connected into the groin of another who doubled over with a grunt of agony.
I twisted away from another as he brought a big short club swinging toward my head. I got to my feet and slammed the stiff edge of my right hand into his throat.
He dropped the weapon and clutched his throat, making terrible gagging sounds as he sank to his knees.
But they were simply too many, and very soon they surrounded me with drawn guns.
Move, fucker, and I shall blow your bloody kneecaps away, arsehole!
And I saw from his face that he meant every word of what he was saying.
I held out my hands, palms upward, a gesture of surrender, and looked helplessly at them.
There’s a man in there – a beast – yes, a beast. You people better let me go, otherwise he would hurt the pastor badly!
Shut the fuck up!
He was a burly round-faced cop, coming toward me and reaching for my hand.
He twisted it cruelly behind my back as one of his companions stepped forward and slammed a fist into my stomach.
My weakened body buckled, and as I sank to my knees it happened.
It was a spine-chilling cry of pure terror, and it froze everybody for a second.
My horrified eyes fixed automatically on Anderson’s window, and then I froze with a silent scream of despair.
The room was filled with a terrible red glow, and a man’s figure was silhouetted for a moment against the glass.
Suddenly a thick horrible figure bore down on the man, huge mouth open, serrated teeth coming down on the man’s jugular, sharp talons tearing at his flesh.
The Legion had manifested!
Paul Anderson, with a Herculean effort, tore himself free and lurched blindly through the open window, his scream a continuous cacophony of chilling terror.
I could hear other screams from the house.
All around me the cops were shouting with confusion which turned to stunned panic when the huge, hairy, horned, three-legged beast cleared the window, coming after the falling body of Anderson.
The pastor’s body hit the ground with a sickening thud, and he rolled a few feet and remained still.
The demon landed smoothly on its three legs, and reached out for the limp figure of the pastor. Its terrible eyes glowed red and its jaws were open wide as it bellowed.
The sound was a ground-shaking explosion that rendered me momentarily deaf for a moment and shattered the windscreens of the police cars.
Blindly I realized that it was a wail of triumph; its left hand was cradling Anderson’s head almost gently, as if it was reveling in the moment, and then its right hand raised and formed into a fist.
It was going to crush the pastor’s head to pulp!
Fuck you! Let him go! You have no bloody power to kill him! He is a man of God! Leave him alone, you swine!
I screamed and, blindly and haltingly, I raced forward.
And I began to glow as I raced toward him, and the intensity grew as I got nearer.
Its red eyes were fixed on me, and suddenly I saw that they had lost some of the utter contempt they had held in our earlier encounter.
It bellowed again, and again I heard the frustration underlying the bellow – not so triumphant now – and it raised its fist higher.
(in an ancient roar)
THOU HAST NO POWER ON ME, YE INCOMPLETE STINKING ROTTING ANAL EMISSION!!!
Leave him alone, swine!
I shouted, my voice shriller and more furious.
My fear was gone, and I was goaded only by sheer revulsion and an urge to hurt these ugly supernatural beings that held so much evil.
My force-field touched it, and it growled with sudden alarm. It let Anderson go and took frantic steps backward.
I still continued to run toward it, my reason gone, my mind gone, screaming incomprehensible words.
It backed up, its red eyes suddenly alarmed, and then with another growl it raced toward me, a great arm flying frantically at me. The fist hit me in the chest and lifted me bodily off my feet.
I slammed down into the prone figure of Anderson, and then all hell broke loose.
The cops, about fifteen of them, let fly with their guns.
A hail of bullets hit the Legion, and I heard its screams of fury, and as it was driven backward it began to lose its great form, diminishing rapidly as the demons left the host … until finally the fat body of Kweku Abbiw fell limply to the ground, riddled with so many bullets that he was barely recognizable as a man.
I turned toward Anderson, and noticed the awkward position of his legs and the blood on his face, oozing freely from his nostrils and mouth.
Tears choked me suddenly as I desperately tried to find a pulse.
(wailing in anguish)
Oh, God, God, God! Get a doctor here!
The burly policeman who had tried to cuff me a few minutes ago was standing near, gun still drawn and half pointed in my direction.
On his face was fear, and he reacted in the only way he knew how: he took it out on me by stepping forward rapidly and reversing the gun deftly so that he had it by the barrel now, and brought the hooked butt crashing into my skull.
Darkness engulfed me.
Sweet, sweet darkness!
Do you remember I told you much earlier, way before the whole mess began, that I was something of a leg man, and about that little kink I had about watching women from the back, especially from the waist down – yeah, yeah, the gentle swell of derriere to the smooth calves and all?
Well when I opened my eyes and ascertained that I was spotting a splitting headache and that I was in some kind of a little comfortable bed, the next thing I saw was just that – a pair of very gorgeous too-perfect legs below the gentlest swell of femme derriere.
She was standing in front of the windows, back to me, and she was drawing the blinds.
For a terrible moment I thought it was Elaine all over again.
Those legs were an exact replica of the ones that lovely little devil had spotted, and my heart missed quite a beat.
My eyes roved up that excellently-tailored black skirt and up the clean white blouse and stopped at the long black hair gathered off the neck and tied into a pony, the long entrails trailing down her back.
I began to breathe a little easier, but I knew that if that black hair had been a bit shorter and less dense, I would have been looking at the back of Elaine, the woman the Legion prepared me to marry, the woman who had made love to me in the dark, and started all the nightmares in my life!
Carefully I turned my head.
The room was huge and comfortable but somewhat bare. Apart from the bed I could see a maroon rug spread on the floor, from wall to wall, and a sort of long table a few feet from the bed, surrounded by black high-backed chairs that looked extremely uncomfortable to me.
There was a high bookcase, three PCs sharing a square table, a water dispenser and a couple of huge, deep cushioned chairs against one wall.
It seemed to me that the little bed I was lying on was the stranger in the room, brought specifically for me.
One of the uncomfortable-looking high-backed chairs was standing beside the bed, and on the seat was a new Robert Ludlum novel – The Matarese Circle – open and overturned on the chair to mark the page the reader had reached.
And then it hit me.
The misery, despair and guilt were rotten catalysts that jerked me up as I tasted the bitter murk of failure in my mouth.
I had let him down, and I had let his family down. Nicole and her mother – and even old Bonner – had trusted me so much, and in the end I had failed so woefully.
I remembered how his body had hit so hard on the grass – shathuud – and how it had rolled a few feet and became absolutely still.
I sat up straight, and a blinding pain tore through my head, forcing me to utter a little cry.
The woman turned from the window sharply, her hand dropping instinctively to the holster at her waist, and then she breathed and relaxed.
She moved toward me with fluid grace. Her face was attractive enough with full shiny lips and high-cheekbones, a graceful nose and a pair of bright beautiful eyes.
A beauty, but there was a kind of coldness in her shoulders, a sort of calculating precision that somehow made me uncomfortable.
Do lie down, Mr. Boat. You suffered from a slight concussion, and it would be best if you took things slow for a while.
Cool fingers touched my shoulders and she eased me gently but firmly back onto the bed. I realized for the first time that I was in a white hospital gown, and I was sure I was quite naked underneath.
A little smile touched her luscious lips.
Don’t worry, Mr. Boat, I wasn’t the one that undressed you. Professional medical staff took care of you. Your own clothes were washed and pressed, and an associate of mine would bring them back presently.
An associate, professional medical staff, and all the other trimmings. Well I would like to know where I am, who you and your associate are, and what I’m doing here.
All in good time, Mr. Boat –
She said, quirking one beautiful eyebrow.
Call me Yaw. The Mr. Boat stuff has never sounded right to my ears.
Again that little smile.
Alright then, Yaw.
She said, and again I looked up sharply at her.
For a moment, just a crazy little moment, she had sounded so much like Elaine that fear had coursed through my heart again, but then she smiled, and I realized how silly I was being.
She leaned across me to straighten the pillow, and for a moment she was that close, and smelled that good.
Some faint perfume – strong enough to tantalize but soft enough to prevent choking – washed deliciously over me. Her face was that close … soft, beautiful, glowing and cold.
She glanced at me as she straightened, and that soft smile split her lips again.
She pressed a knob beside the bed and a moment later the door opened and a plump housemaid in a blue uniform came through.
My nurse spoke rapidly to her in Spanish, and the maid nodded and left the room.
She picked up the Robert Ludlum novel and sat down, crossing her legs easily and for a moment my eyes were drawn to the space just below the hem of her skirt where her creamy thighs touched.
Shit, I didn’t need this at this time!
A voice was screaming in my brain.
Not now, not when I needed every ounce of purity I could get. This was not the time to pursue vices I thought I had left behind and would never revisit.
My fight with the Legion was bad enough, and I didn’t need to dirty myself now. She was extremely attractive, and she did have an influence over me.
She was affecting me in a way that was totally primitive. It wasn’t the kind of clean, total and so overwhelming thing I felt about Nicole.
There was nothing gentle in the way this strange woman affected me. She was awakening primeval hungers, stirring up a lust I hadn’t felt for a long time, and it was driving me mad.
She carefully folded a corner of the page she was reading diagonally inward and closed the book.
She dropped it on the bedside table, leaned back – a picture of real elegance and beauty – and regarded me with those lovely eyes.
Josephine Mintah. My friends call me Jo.
Pleased to make your acquaintance, Jo. Although I seem to be still waiting for answers I thought you would’ve provided by now.
All in good time, Yaw. What I can tell you is that you’re in a sterile house belonging to –
Sterile house, a safe place with secret cameras and guards and all the other trimmings that you read about. Government-owned, of course, but used by the BNI for varied purposes. First you’ll eat, and then someone will come and speak to you.
As if on cue the door opened once more, and the chubby housemaid entered pushing a small table on wheels.
Jo Mintah waited until she had left the room before uncovering the lids of the pans on the table. The sweet scent of vegetable soup wafted into my nostrils, and my stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten for a long time.
She helped me to sit straight, and then she ladled some of the hot soup into a little bowl and then sat beside me.
She gently fed me the soup which had little pieces of chopped meat in it. It was absolutely delicious, and I drank two bowls.
I finished it all off with a cold glass of the best water I had ever tasted. She handed me a little cap with two white circular tablets and a large brownish square one.
Doctor says you should swallow this when you wake up. Bureau doctor, one of the best we have. Nothing was broken when that cop hit you with the gun butt, but it rattled your brains a little. These would help sort out the headaches, I was told.
I tilted the cap and let the tablets fall into my mouth and I swallowed them down with a little water.
She leaned forward to press the little knob at the side of the bed again, giving me a rather nice view of a golden cleavage and the rounded tops of her lovely breasts.
Nasty, nasty thoughts, Yaw boy … just watch it right there!
The blue-clad maid entered again and wordlessly wheeled the table and its contents away.
Jo got to her feet and walked toward the window, a cellular phone pressed to her ear. I swung my feet off the bed and settled them down gingerly on the floor.
The ground did a little jig, and the tired drummers in my head slammed a few more beats into my skull and then settled into a dull rhythmic ache that was a lot more tolerable than the pounding I had earlier experienced.
She tucked her phone away, and now she turned and leaned against the wall.
They are on their way.
It was evident that was all the information she was prepared to give, and so I didn’t press her.
The door opened presently and then Chief Inspector Frost entered, followed by two elderly men in black suits, and one was holding my pressed clothes gingerly.
Behind them was a tall lean man in a grey suit.
His iron-grey hair, lean aristocratic face and the gold-rimmed spectacles fitting so well with his face rang a bell somewhere; he was very familiar, one of the distinguished politicians whose face was always on television.
A famous and respected Minister, maybe, but I had always hated politics, and his face had just been the occasional glimpse and nothing more as far as I was concerned.
The man holding my clothes approached me and put them on the bed.
Think you can get dressed, Mr. Boat?
His voice was surprisingly feminine for a man his size. He was short and broad across the shoulders, making it appear as if he were wearing a coat broad enough to house two men.
His thinning black hair was spiked with a lot of grey.
His eyes were black and deep-set, and regarding me with cool casualness.
I had the distinct impression that he was making an assessment somewhat, and that whatever brain was in that head was clicking away like mad, filing away vital information.
He didn’t wait for me to reply but pointed to a little door I had previously not seen because it had been at the head of the bed.
In there is the bathroom. I think you can conveniently get dressed there.
The other men had ignored me, and were pulling up the high-backed chairs and making themselves comfortable. I got to my feet and picked up the clothes. I hesitated, wobbling a bit, and Jo glided to my side quickly.
Are you okay?
Her voice was cool but I sensed the concern underlying it, and I looked at her.
Our eyes locked, and silently we both acknowledged the fact that under different circumstances, we could have been engaged in a little bit more than just casual talk.
I’m fine. A little weak but fine. I’ll be out in a while.
Dressing was much tougher than I had expected.
I still felt a little wobbly each time I bent, but by the time I finally tied up my shoelaces I was okay somewhat.
My brain was working overtime as I tried to find out how deeply I was in trouble. I had caused some harm, I knew, and if they decided to press me I could find myself in a real tight spot.
When I emerged from the room they were all seated in a crude semi-circle, the distinguished politician in the middle – the obvious leader. There was an empty chair facing them.
I assume this is for me?
I indicated the chair.
That is so, Mr. Boat.
His voice was soft and cultured.
He was obviously a man of means – good family, good money, good schools, distinguished career, never a false step in his golden life so far. Pampered, favoured and yet a right in his own way, independent and strong.
I sat down and faced them.
My eyes were on the politician because he seemed to be running the show. His cool eyes appraised me. His compatriots looked a little uncomfortable on the high-backed chairs, but he sat easily, leaning slightly sideways, legs crossed.
This meeting shouldn’t take long. Names wouldn’t be needed here, I presume, for reasons I’ll rather not go into. All I can say is that the man on my left is the police chief in Portville.
He meant the squat gorilla that had brought me my clothes.
I nodded, because that seemed to be all I could do for the moment.
The man on my right is a director of a section of the BNI. Chief Inspector Frost you already know. You’ve been out for roughly six hours, and within that time I flew down here immediately our BNI friend called and told me what was going on. Within that time I’ve tried to familiarize myself with the facts of the complex cases I was presented with. Afterwards we had a long chat with your friend, the Reverend Charles Bonner, who explained some of the crazier aspects to me, and only managed to confuse me more because I found it impossible to believe that kind of – let’s say faith – that he told me about. I’ll never understand it. However he did enough to convince us that our only chance of dealing with whatever evil is plaguing this town is you.
He paused, and I could feel all their eyes on me. I sighed and leaned forward.
Pastor Paul Anderson. How’s he?
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
On admission at the Portville Hospital. Critical condition. The doctors say his backbone was hurt pretty badly, and he’s in some sort of a coma. Hundred percent recovery is not expected. The truth is that he could end up in a wheelchair, and the only part of his body that would have mobility and function well would be from his neck up.
It hit me bad.
I dropped my face into my shaking hands and shuddered.
Are you with us, Mr. Boat?
I lifted my head and glared harshly at him.
Cut to the chase and tell me what you want from me!
I practically spat at him.
The others recoiled; even Frost winced, but the politician didn’t miss a stride.
Instead his eyes became colder, and his jaw tightened perceptively.
There was crude steel underneath all that charm, I realized suddenly, and told myself that this was a man that I should be wary of.
You messed things up, mister. Aside from the extensive damage you caused to government property we could hold you for other physical charges. You could even be hit with a murder charge if we want. However, this is an election year, and it isn’t going to be any ordinary election either. The attention of the world is focused on this land. It will be a very bad time to hit town with this bizarre story about innocent men and women changing into horned beasts and killing people indiscriminately. It is something we’ve never faced before, and even Mr. Frost admits it is crazy. After speaking to Charles Bonner we came to a single conclusion. Charges against you would be suspended if – and only if – you’re able to get rid of this thing within twenty-four hours. If you fail we will drag you in, and charge you with so many offences that you would never get out of prison again.
I smiled at him; it wasn’t one of my best smiles, and for a very brief moment I saw the flash of anger on his face.
Bullshit. You can’t make anything stick. You forgot that a lot has happened already, and the press would be preparing their crucifixion stakes by now.
What has happened? Oh, I think you mean the unfortunate incident with the late Mrs. Okai who fell in love with a younger man. Sadly the greedy younger man did enough – and we do have evidence about this – to turn the noble woman’s head. Obviously he convinced her to get rid of her husband and son whilst he killed her security men and his lover’s maid. He even gave her the murder weapons. He convinced her to commit heinous crimes and then he made away with a lot of money and precious jewels, leaving her behind. It made the poor woman insane when she discovered her lover’s betrayal, and she went over the edge by killing a policeman and two other men. You remember the men she was making love to at the Kitty-Pussi Club? They died, unfortunately. She was shot to death by policemen in self-defence after she attacked them.
I gaped at him.
Of course he was a politician.
Lying was a part of his game!
I looked at him bitterly and with great anger.
And of course you’re going to frame me, claiming I’m that heartless young lover.
Are you? The choice, Mr. Boat, is entirely yours. I’m aware, of course, that you command a great deal of wealth, having inherited your father’s Estate. But believe me, we can make your life uncomfortable if we choose to.
I licked my lips, and in that instant I hated him extremely.
I knew that indeed they had me in a tight spot, and could indeed make life complicated for me.
I didn’t need complications.
Not when the Legion was still rampaging around.
And Kweku Abbiw? What happened at the Mission House is bound to draw attention. Eye witness accounts, you forget. A lot of cops present, and a lot of people present at the Mission Manse.
We have a total black out on that news. But first, no one from the Manse saw what really happened when Pastor Anderson and the beast came out of the house. Also we picked up some rather interesting things that could easily be used to link the heartless lover of Mrs. Okai to the death of Abbiw. Gruesome deaths have occurred, and answers will be demanded. I hate decisions like these, but believe me, there are times when scapegoats – of any kind and in any form – are necessary to avert an otherwise disturbing situation. The Reverend Bonner assures us you could put this to rest, so do it, otherwise the consequences would be deeply regrettable. I hope we understand each other.
I sighed and leaned back.
I was beaten.
We all knew it, and all indications pointed to the fact that I had to track down that vile thing again even though my own confidence had dwindled to next to nothing, and I had no faith whatsoever of being even remotely able to deal with the Legion to a final conclusion.
Alright. Twenty-four hours.
His eyes were intense orbs of steel as he looked at me.
Mr. Boat, I’m doing this not because of the crazy stuff Bonner told me, or of the insane things you did that impressed Chief Inspector Frost so much, or the fantastic eye-witness reports of the cops on the scene. I’m doing this only because I spoke to Sergeant Asomani, the man who knocked you out, and he confirmed that he hit you hard enough to kill you, because at that particular moment he was so enraged and he hated you. The doctor who examined you confirmed that judging by the bruised nature of your brain cells and other organs, that blow should’ve caved your head in. He noticed something else too. He instructed a scan to be carried out as soon as you were brought in, and less than an hour later he noticed the remarkable way your body recovered from the trauma it had been through. A second scan showed that all inflammations to your brain, which should’ve taken at least forty eight hours to begin showing signs of healing, were back to normal. You were bleeding profusely when you were brought in, and your clothes bore ample proof of that. It would’ve taken a minor surgery to sew up the gash in your skull, but by the time they parted your hair in the hospital the blood had stopped, and the wound had closed over. Had it not been the fact that you were still somewhat unconscious, no one would’ve believed the story. Well, all that says a lot, doesn’t it? That is the only reason I’m doing this, and believe me there are not going to be any second chances. After twenty-four hours we rope you in. Have I made myself clear?
Once again the other people in the room winced.
I’m not scared of you. I’ll do what I have to do. I have a score to settle with that thing, and I’ll go after it. I appreciate you cutting me some rope, though, but you must know that there could be other bodies, more casualties.
What I’m going after is a vicious group of demons who don’t hesitate to take a life. I’m just warning you that there could be other grisly deaths ahead of me when I catch up with that thing.
The politician nodded.
We thought about all that, and that’s why we’ve assigned one of our best agents to work with you. Miss Mintah will be with you, and would clean up after you. Take care of whatever the hell that thing is, and she would take care of the rest.
I looked at the woman.
I couldn’t trust myself with her.
I’ll do this alone, if you don’t mind. She would be in danger. You better find other ways of dealing with any deaths.
The Politician stood up, and his hard eyes never left my face.
Not negotiable, Mr. Boat. She goes with you, and you have twenty-four hours starting now. Good luck.
I didn’t get up.
All of them left except Frost and the woman.
The policeman lighted one of his proverbial cigarettes and puffed out a gentle cloud of smoke. He looked at me with his dark sad eyes and then he nodded.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
Good luck, Boat. It is out of my hands now. The BNI has taken over, but please if you could, I’d prefer not to have any more deaths on my streets. You can call me if you need any assistance.
I got to my feet slowly.
I need your assistance now. The cop who hit me … I need his address.
He was about to pull on his cigarette, but he paused and regarded me with his cold eyes.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
You really think you’ve time for vengeance trips?
I held his gaze.
No. He is a sick man. I think the demons took over his body.
He walked to the desk where the computers were and rummaged through a transparent tray. He found a blunt pencil and then pulled out a white A4 sheet from the printer. He wrote quickly on it, folded it, and brought the paper to me.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
Sergeant Jules Asomani is a real son-of-a-bitch. Cocaine has been disappearing from our pounds and finding their way back to the streets. We think he’s behind it, he is under investigation, though he doesn’t know it yet. And rumours has it that he has other little seedy businesses going on. Nobody likes him, but nobody can touch him without iron-cast evidence because he happens to have the balls of some top brass in his palms which he squeezes as he sees fit, and that’s his insurance. I don’t think anybody will miss him much.
He turned on his heels and marched toward the door, blowing a cloud of smoke across his head.
Jo turned to me when the door closed behind the back of the enigmatic cop.
I guess I’m stuck with you.
I said tiredly and rubbed my eyes.
She came close to me, looking intently into my eyes.
I guess you are. I must admit that I find you extremely attractive, Yaw Boat, and I know you find me attractive too, but I promise you I won’t let it come between us. We have to clear this up first, and then afterwards…perhaps.
I smiled wanly and touched her chin gently.
No perhaps. First off I’m already in love with another woman, and secondly I have selected a life that excludes such intimacy.
Undeterred, she moved even closer to me.
A woman who obviously does not make you happy. I can see the hurt in your eyes, and the unhappiness. As for the other life – obviously a Christian one – well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?
And then her arms were around my neck, and she was pressing that close.
Maybe it was because I was too tired, and that my nerves had been really frayed with my encounter with the Legion. Maybe it was because my heart was still filled with fear and panic after the evil I had encountered.
Maybe it was because the great guilt I felt over Anderson had made me lose confident in myself … and maybe it was because she was all-woman, beautiful, soft, sweet and willing.
Whatever it was I met her kiss, and my arms went around her in a sudden explosion of passion I had never felt in a long time. This was not the clean love I felt for Nicole, the one that was so much blissful and complete, the one that I wished would never end.
This was just an expression of the physical, the primal animal urge for expending pent-up lust, the unstoppable urge to satiate a need, and although I knew that I would probably hate her afterward, I could not stop.
Her tongue was a hot delight that teased inside my mouth, and as I gripped her right breast I could feel the taut nipple, and I realized in my stupor that she was not wearing a bra.
Dimly I was in agony, wondering how we had crossed the boundaries so easily … so willingly…so quickly!
Oh Lord, help me!
But I couldn’t stop.
My hands bunched up her skirt, pushing it upward until the edge rode on her waist, and I grabbed the silky panties underneath, slipping my left hand into it, and gripping her pliant buttocks.
She moaned deeply, shooting her head back so that I could kiss her smooth throat.
Somehow her blouse came open, and a perfect little deliciously-rounded breast shot out, curling invitingly upward.
I bent low, clamping hot lips on her nipple, which was hard and pleasantly roseate and tender. Her feverish fingers were working my shirt, popping buttons, and then her fingers were roving over the hairs on my chest.
My hand delved between her thighs, caressing the heat, the warmth, the wetness, the sweetness…and she moaned and bucked with primal unbridled lust!
I swung her toward the bed…and that was when the door crashed open.
Frost was looking in at me, and behind him was a terror-struck Nicole.
And behind her, looking on coldly and gripping his cane so hard that his knuckles showed a terrible white, was Charles Bonner.
I wasn’t surprised.
Somehow I had known it was bound to happen.
Slowly I released Jo.
She had a satisfied little smile on her lips, a kind of knowing look, and as I stared at her I was once again struck by a great sense of déjà vu.
Somehow she and Elaine were interlacing, and for a horrified moment I wondered whether this too had been pre-defined, whether she had known somehow that Nicole and Bonner were on their way up, whether this was also the beginning of some elaborate plan to alienate me again.
She pushed her skirt down and pulled her blouse close, buttoning up with sure fingers. She walked past me to the terrace, and I let her.
Nicole was walking toward me, her expression one of pure hurt and sheer fury.
Her face was colder than the heart of ice, and when she stopped in front of me I could see just how much I had hurt her, reflected plainly in her moist eyes.
(voice filled with revulsion)
You have the time to fornicate when my father is lying on a hospital bed almost dead? What have you brought here? What have you done to my father? We trusted you, Yaw, but all along you were just a fake, weren’t you?
I’m extremely sorry, Nic.
Nic? Sorry? Did you say sorry? Well you have a terrible way of showing how sorry you are, Yaw Boat! Where were you when my father was attacked? Were you with her? When we needed you most you were not there, and you say sorry? Maybe you shouldn’t have come here at all! Maybe if you had stayed away nothing of this sort would’ve happened. Lord, to think I felt love for you! I hate you, Yaw Boat! God forgive me, but I hate you with all the core of my soul!
I looked away from her.
I told myself that she was in uncontrollable pain; her father was dying, and she had found me in a really uncompromising situation with another woman, and that was why she was saying all those horrible things, things she would regret saying later.
But that did not wash with something deep in me.
I found my throat closing over suddenly with the painful lump of tears.
I knew that I had just lost the most important gem in my life. I wanted to fall at her feet and cry out my supplications. I wanted so much tell her how things had gotten out of hand, how I felt so lonely and scared, so inadequate … how everything I did could not stop the Legion.
I even began to reach out, but she slapped my hand away.
I sensed another movement, another presence, and when I looked up Andrew Okai was standing behind her.
His arm went around her shoulders protectively, and she turned to him, burying her face in his shoulder, and as he led her away I could see her body shaking with the depth of her tears.
Frost and Bonner entered the room fully.
Frost opened his beautiful cigarette case and winced when he found it empty.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
Sorry, kid. I should’ve told you they’ve been here all the time waiting in the next room to see you. The lady wanted to speak to you so I brought her here.
I nodded numbly.
Bonner walked up to me.
His old face was not holding the disgust I had feared would be there.
Instead there was something close to real panic in the depths of his eyes, and a very silent fury.
He tapped my chest fiercely with a bony finger.
What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Damn you, boy! What do you think this is? Some sort of kinky game? You’re dealing with lives here, boy, lives! Already the Legion has it in for you big time, and its fear of you is waning because of whatever filth it has against you. And now you go and involve yourself in this dirt! Why did you do such a stupid thing?
Lay off. Maybe we were all wrong, old man. Maybe I’m not the chosen one! Maybe there’s another Unblind somewhere more capable of dealing with the Legion.
Stop your drivel and concentrate! You fool, we’re never wrong about things like these! It is just your inability to let go of your damn decadence! Forget about what’s between your damn legs and concentrate! First it was Nicole, and God knows I was scared enough about that but I hoped with that kind of clean love something good would come out of it. But now your soul is lustful, and believe me, it doesn’t matter how much God loves you or how much power He’s put in you, but when you sin – fornicate – God turns away, and you would be left to deal with those damn demons on your own! That girl shouldn’t be near you! Get rid of her. She’s one of them, purposely sent to weaken you up for the kill.
I buttoned up my shirt with angry jerks of my hands.
I met his gaze, and slowly I felt the coldness welling up in me, the heat mounting, and the fear crystallizing.
She’s just an officer from the BNI, old man, just a fucking law officer! Why don’t you give me some rope here?
Because there’s no fucking rope to spare! You’ve entangled yourself to the neck, and you’re dead meat! You should know better!
I lost it at that point.
Just leave me be! I’ll deal with this in my own way!
Then you’ll die.
He turned away from me.
His gait was slow and pained, his old shoulders sagging.
He gripped his cane tightly, and silently he offered his arm to Frost.
They headed for the door, and in that moment of despair I almost cried out to him.
Paul Anderson was lying on his death bed, Nicole was finding solace in the arms of Andrew Okai, and here I was losing my only ally in a fight I had lost all guts for.
True, he had been hard and unrelenting, and sometimes downright overbearing, but he had always been there for me when I needed him.
He had taught me more about my gift than anybody else, and had filled the vacuum in my life, the empty space where my father had been.
He was more than a mentor and a friend. He had become a soul mate, and seeing him going away from me was more than I could bear.
He stopped at the door and turned halfway, still being supported by Frost.
(softly, voice unsteady)
Paul is almost dead, you know. The Legion would prefer Paul to live a life of misery, confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. That’s what I think. You, on the other hand, have done to it what no other Unblind has ever done. You hurt it, and on some occasions you gave it real terror. I think maybe we don’t need you anymore, Yaw. The Legion has done its worst, and for now Paul is safe.
What are you talking about?
But I knew what was coming, and it drove terror into my heart like daggers.
Bonner’s voice was steady and controlled, but it was tinged with that strange sadness.
The only person who needs a real Unblind right now, son, is you. You’re next, and unless you get rid of that girl and really get yourself in God’s books again, I’m afraid you could be dead by morning. It would be a slow painful death because they would take special delight in cutting you down to size for all the terror you’ve given them. Remember, the horde of demons that form the Legion never ever forgive!
THE ROOM OF HOMOS
It was that ominous, and it was that menacing.
It even caused the taciturn cop to wince slightly.
CHIEF INSPECTOR FROST
Hey, hey, steady there, old man! Are you not stretching the boy just a little bit too hard?
I’ve had my say.You know where to find me, Yaw.
Yaw … not son.
Something was lost, and I knew how bad it would be to get it back again.
The cold reached out and caught my throat.
Savagely I tried to fight off the panic and the fear but to no avail. There was a rustle behind me, and there she was standing in front of me.
For a brief moment I saw the fire in her eyes, the terrible embers of the wrath that had engulfed her, but then they went all soft again, and she smiled at me.
So, what’re you going to do now? Are you going to throw me out because the old man says I’m the Delilah to your Samson, or are you going to let me help you?
I paid no heed to her as stepped round her.
It was somewhat absurd to think she was a tool as Bonner had said. I could have seen it if she were one of them. She was nothing but a sinner, and now that I had lost it all she would come in handy.
If Bonner were right – and I believed he was – then I needed to find the vile thing before it plucked up enough courage to come after me.
The door opened onto a wide corridor, and straight ahead was the elevator.
When I entered it she breezed inside and stood very close to me. As we were taken silently down she reached out and curled her left fingers around my right hand and squeezed warmly.
I returned the squeeze, and after a moment we turned toward each other and smiled painfully.
I wondered if I saw the faintest glitter in her eyes.
I wondered if it was compassion.
Or something else…like triumph, like achievement.
Sergeant Jules Asomani lived on Townsend Street.
It was a small neighbourhood, not plush, and not dirty either.
The houses were built almost in straight lines, row after row, separated by bumpy little streets. There were trees and hedges, not so well-kept, but managing to give the area a little class.
Most low-ranked cops live here. Used to be a really nice place. It was initially set up as a government housing project aimed at providing comfortable lodgings for professionals – nurses, teachers, you know – but ended up in private hands, and was seized up by most cops.
We cruised slowly along one of the streets, marking off house numbers.
She was driving my Chrysler for two reasons – her reasons: she loved driving, and she knew Portville more than I did.
No 406 Townsend Street was surprisingly one of the well-kept houses on the block. The house looked bright, maybe recently painted. The driveway was hedged by exotic plants.
When she parked the car we saw a fenced off area to the right, and the sheen of water. I smiled wanly. The sergeant even had a decent swimming-pool. There had been an extension to the building, and more trees had been planted.
There were three cars in front of the house – one van, one pickup and a classic sports car. He had taste, and he obviously earned just a little more than the average sergeant.
Seems our man enjoys some appreciable profit from his extra activities.
We mounted the marble steps to a huge excellently-crafted mahogany door with a brass knocker, which might have been odd and ludicrous in any other environment, but which looked at home on that door.
It was late evening, a time when most lights would have been on, but Asomani had all his lights off. A thin yellow stream filtered through under the door anyway.
From within came the faint sound of guitar music.
Jo raised the knocker and banged away loudly.
We waited for precisely one minute, and then she repeated it.
No one showed.
She took the handle and pushed downward. The door eased open silently. She drew a snub-nosed automatic from her holster and entered cautiously.
She paused so suddenly that I almost ran into her back. She uttered a silent moan-like scream and stood rigidly. I looked over her shoulders, and my own breath caught in my throat.
It was a huge living-room.
Dimmed lights recessed in the wooden ceiling cast a subdued glow on everything. There were no chairs or tables. The floor was covered with a thick woollen rug, and on it were small foam-stuffed mats.
On the walls were paintings – mostly of animals and plants. There was a huge flat-screen television and a games console that looked like a Sony PlayStation 3.
Little low glass-topped tables were against the walls, and there was a small beautiful bar against another wall.
On the wide floor, on the little stuffed mats, were naked men engaged in a homosexual orgy.
I counted about eight of them, and I saw that most of them were muscular and powerfully-built. The room reeked with stale beer and cigarette smoke, and this was evidenced by the heaped ashtrays and the empty canned tins.
A few of them peered at us coldly, but most continued their frenzied thrusts, sucks and moans.
A door to my right opened and a grotesquely-dressed man emerged with a laden tray of food. His painted face, feminine wig, and gyrating buttocks were in perfect contrast to his great height and width.
He could easily be close to seven foot, and he got the type of bunched muscles that almost made him a giant.
He had clamped his genitals tightly between his legs, giving the illusion of a female’s genitalia. He paused at the sight of us and wiggled his eyelashes at me.
He bent down, setting his tray down and then posing sexily at me.
What a fabulously dishy man you are! Would you like to have me in your arms?
Jo was quivering just a little bit.
She might be a tough girl, but she wasn’t quite prepared for the terrible sight confronting us, a sight made even more terrible by their complete disinterest in our presence.
I began to speak, but then I felt the tingling, the awareness that was becoming all too familiar, and the overwhelming stench… coming from the open door leading off the sitting-room, suffocating me!
The Legion was near!
I started to move toward the open door, and then one of the huge men stood up from the floor, withdrawing himself from a slender man kneeling in front of him.
His erect penis glistened in the low light, but his face was devoid of all emotions as he looked at me.
HOMO GIANT 2
You take another step toward that door and I’ll brain you.
He spoke in a soft drawl that nevertheless managed to carry menace.
I ignored him. The urge was too strong, and I had no control over it.
Get out of here, Jo, now!
I pushed the man-woman out of my way and approached the door.
And then I felt the rush of air behind me just a moment earlier before Jo’s warning cry.
Acting on pure instincts which had served me well in my former life of drugs, sex and violence, I dove for the floor, rolling first on one shoulder and then spinning on my knees.
My quick reflexes saved me from the huge club which the mean man had swung at my skull. Had it landed I would have been brained, no doubt.
He grinned, and it was not a nice grin. The club was a baseball bat, I saw, and he hefted it now in both hands and swung it gently.
HOMO GIANT 2
Good move, kid! Told you I would brain you, didn’t I?
I could see that others were now untangling themselves from the bad holes they had been buried in, and I knew that I had to put them out of the equation quickly and brutally otherwise I would be in real trouble.
They were still flowing in the cobwebs of passion, and they were naked. The advantage – if any – was on my side for the moment, but would not last long.
THAT VILE THING AGAIN
My adversary rushed at me, swinging his bat with both hands, his lower lip gripped tightly between his teeth to emphasize his destructive intentions.
I spun away from his swing, completed my turn and slammed a fist with all my strength against the side of his jaw.
The blow shook him bad, and sudden blood spurted from his nostrils. He began to sag, dropping his bat, his dazed eyes filled with shock.
I had expected my blow to halt his progress, but as his jaw slackened I realized suddenly that his jaw was broken. I had felt the force of the blow, and I knew deep down that it wasn’t my own strength.
It was happening again: I was filled with alien power, divine strength.
There was movement to my right and I spun to my left, missing the fist of a naked man on whose dick was a sort of lighted condom that depicted many colours as if he got a million fireflies in there.
And then a straight fist travelled toward my jaw. I grabbed it, spun with it, and threw its owner into the wall. Once again I felt the power, and he slammed into the wall with such force that paintings came tumbling down, and part of the concrete peeled away.
The man fell down, blood oozing thickly from his flattened nose and mouth.
I could feel the shock rippling in the room now.
But they were not done yet.
Another huge man was on his feet, coming at me with a terrible knife glinting in his hand. His face was carefully made up, and indeed he looked kind of womanish in the face, although his size belied any claim to a fair lady.
He lunged at me, the knife aimed at my throat. He was carrying his weapon like a professional, turning it expertly to enhance the direction of his attack – sideways, straight in, upper slash, diagonal cut.
I weaved back, always a fraction of a second earlier than him. He lunged, the blade swishing up toward my stomach.
I side-stepped, gripped his weapon wrist with my right hand, and slammed my left elbow into his face. I heard bone breaking, and then I twisted his hand and bent it inward, breaking it.
He squealed like a gutted pig, and as he began to fall I slammed a foot into his exposed genitals.
He fell down whimpering, his body curled up into the foetal position.
I looked around me deliberately, contemptuously. The fight had gone out of them, I saw.
My savage fighting prowess had cowed them.
Jo had regained her composure somewhat, and now she fired her gun into the ceiling, startling them even further.
I didn’t wait any longer.
I was through the door and found myself in a lighted corridor. There were two closed doors on my right, bare wall on my left, a closed door at the end of the corridor.
The stench was sickening now, causing me to gag and dry cough. I kicked the first door open and rushed in.
He was there.
It was there.
I came to a halt, my body going slack, and my jaws separating in a soundless cry of horror, despair and fear at what I saw.
Sergeant Jules Asomani was naked.
His skin was an unhealthy brown, marked with tiny black dots as if he had recovered from chicken pox quite recently.
Flesh hung from his body in folds; under his eyes and chin, on his upper arms, on his chest, around his stomach, waist and hips. His legs were surprisingly spindly and hairy, giving him a grotesque look.
He was kneeling on the bed facing me.
In front of him was a very young boy – I guessed not more than fifteen years old and yet to shed his teenage plumpness – also quite naked.
The boy was on all fours, but Asomani was gripping his neck, forcing his face into the suffocating confines of the filthy sheets covering the bed.
The boy’s neck was badly chaffed and showed a terrible red.
His back too was badly bruised and was even spurting little drops of blood from the constant slaps from his tormentor. He was too weak to struggle now, and he only uttered low moans of pain as Asomani assaulted him from behind.
He was plunging in and out of the boy savagely, inhumanely, and from time to time he brought the flat of his right hand down hard on the boy’s back, and as soon as the boy shuddered with the pain Asomani would curl his fingers into claws and rake it down the bruised back, bringing yells of pain from his victim.
But it wasn’t Asomani, of course.
On his narrow forehead was the mark of the beast, blazing and dripping blood.
His eyes were scary circling orbs of violet, infinitely evil as they regarded me.
(ancient, croaky, devilish voice)
I KNOWETH THEE WOULD BE COMING, YE STINKING LITTLE WHORE PUSSY!
Pure evil…from the depths of the vilest sewer.
He thrust into the boy with frenzied cruelty, and then brought his claw hand down hard on the boy’s back, drawing a four-fingered trail of blood in the young flesh.
The boy’s back arched with acute pain, and he thrashed wildly, making choking sounds as his face was pressed fiercely into the covers.
And, predictably, I lost my cool.
I came for you, you bastard!
THOU ARTH NOTHING BUT A PUNY EARTHLING!! WE ART NOT AFRAID OF THEE. YE ART ONLY A PIECE OF STINKING ANAL SHIT, AND THOU ARTH INCOMPLETE!!
The Legion screamed right back, the colours and shapes of its eyes changing rapidly now.
I jumped unto the bed and raised my right hand.
In the name of Jesus Christ – ”
I began in a voice choking with fury at the sight of what was in front of me.
And the Legion began to laugh.
It was a rumbling sound that shook the whole building and reverberated off the walls, almost causing me to go deaf.
NAY, NAY, NAY, NAY!!NYE CANST CAST US OUT INTO THE COLD! YE ARTH INCOMPLETE!!
Be quiet, demons! “In the name of Jesus Christ, be still and come out of him this instant!
I was losing it again, succumbing to its mental torture.
I was beginning to feel that crushing inadequacy again, and in its wake was the agony of another failure, and the fear of what would eventually happen to me.
NAY, NAY, NAAAYY!! THOU ARTH INCOMPLETE!!
And then Asomani threw the boy away from him.
The plump teenager fell off the bed and began to whimper.
Asomani was getting to his feet, and my horrified eyes were drawn to his erect member which had begun to jerk convulsively as he climaxed.
I jumped back, losing my concentration as his ejaculation fluids spewed out in mighty white jets.
Somehow I couldn’t tear my eyes away from that part of his body, and when a stringent voice screamed in my ears I knew with a sinking feeling that I had failed again even before I looked up.
Asomani was still jerking in the throes of his pleasure, but the demons inside him were laughing with glee.
He was holding a heavy automatic pistol in his hand, and he had pressed it to his temple.
(in a rumbling voice)
THOU WANT A BATTLE WITH ME? PREPARE THEN, YE INCOMPLETE INCOMPETENT!! PREPARE TO DIE!!
I groaned, and then Asomani pulled the trigger.
The heavy slug bullet blasted one side of his face clearly across the room.
Blood, bone and brain matter spattered against the wall, and then the body was sagging back unto the bed, the gun dropping from his nerveless hand, blood already pumping out of what was left of his head.
And then they began to come out of him!
Evil creatures of all sizes and shapes, of all colours and hues!
I could see them coming out of the dead body, thousands of screaming creatures, whirling angrily around my head, each trying to tear me apart.
I stared into thousands of hate-filled eyes, and saw serrated teeth coming for my jugular.
The fear was thick in my throat as I tottered off the bed and fell down, covering my head with my arms as they floated around me, screaming with fury and sheer malice as they swooped over my body.
I could feel them trying to bite and scratch, trying to pull out my entrails… and all the while the terrible screams continued! Face after evil face descended on me, trying to devour, screaming with frustration as their assaults failed.
My bravado was gone.
I lay on the floor whimpering, shaking violently and wishing it to stop. The room was filled with thousands of devilish things trying to devour me.
I couldn’t say a word. I couldn’t even scream…my terror was that complete!
My panic had peaked, and my life would never be the same again.
Finally – sweetly – I felt them begin to move, crashing out of the room with high-pitched of disappointed fury.
And then, finally, I was alone…in one piece, and at peace!
I was trembling violently as I got first to my knees, and then dragged myself to my feet. Dimly I heard screaming, but it came from far away.
My brain was still clogged with what had happened. My body, which had nearly entered a state of total shutdown, was recovering slowly.
Through blurred eyes I saw the young bleeding boy whimpering in one corner, his panicked eyes fixed on me.
I stared blankly at him, not knowing what to do next, and then…
Screams…oh, Lord, Jo!
I forced my feet to move.
I fought the overpowering fear that was clinging to my heart and cut a dazed zigzagged route out of the room. When I burst into the living-room I saw Jo standing against the wall, her gun pointing at the huge man with the hideously painted face, the one who has been striving to look like a woman.
He was half-crouched, hands extended like talons, lips barred from huge teeth, low growling sounds emanating from his throat.
The Legion had found another host!
On his forehead was the tell-tale mark of the beast, and his eyes glowed not red this time, but pure fire!
I could see the flames licking hungrily in his eyes. I had never seen anything like it, and never wished to.
The fire was blazing, shooting crazily in his eyes, and as I watched I saw little tufts of smoke seeping from the corner of his eyes, tendrils of hatred that curled slightly in the air and disappeared.
The other men had left the room, probably scared off by the gunshot, and had taken their wounded comrades with them.
I leaned against the door, hands gripping the posts to hold myself up.
I knew that I could never attempt any exorcism under the present conditions; to do that was to invite certain death on the man, and with no other hosts available Jo would be occupied, and she was the last person I wanted to see dead.
The naked man turned to me, growled and hissed, and then he turned and lunged for the door.
Jo was breathing hard, her frantic eyes large in her face, her terror a living animal that threatened to devour her. I covered the space between us quickly and swept her into my arms.
She was trembling, and her arms went around me, gripping fiercely, almost savagely – and in her weakness I found a little of my strength.
In giving her solace I found a little self-respect, and the dying embers of a will to continue hunting to the end. An engine started up, and I pushed her back gently.
There’s a little boy in there that needs help bad. Please get Chief Inspector Frost here. I need to do this.
I was out of the door in a flash and just in time to see the silver BMW convertible shooting out of the driveway, tires screeching and taillights winking.
I raced to the Chrysler and jumped in, starting and turning it even before my door was closed.
I found the BMW on the stretch leading toward the heart of Portville, and I stepped on the accelerator.
It was a crazy ride, especially when we joined the main flow of traffic.
He was driving like a man gone berserk. He maintained a steady direct course, never swerving to avoid other motorists in his path. Drivers had to swerve quickly into the free lanes to avoid being rammed from behind.
I kept my hand on the horn as I bore down on him, swerving from lane to lane, using my brakes and gears like crazy.
I knew deep within me that even if I stopped chasing him he would end up dead. The infuriated demons were bent on teaching me a lesson, and they were drawing me along for the ride for the sheer craziness of it.
It was like a magnet, and I felt drawn forward despite my urge for rest and release. This was evil incarnate, the supreme diabolic nightmare and it didn’t come any more terrifying than what I had been going through.
The sirens and the crows appeared on the scene at the same time.
The naked man was now off the main road and was traveling at breakneck speed down a busy street that had glass-fronted shops on both sides.
People were screaming and fleeing the crazed driver.
I saw a man jumping off his motorbike and landing on the shoulders of the streets awkwardly just a second before the BMW rammed into the bike, sending it flying into the glass entrance of a boutique.
And then the black and white police sedans appeared ahead, sirens a continuous wail that jarred the nerves, lights flashing wildly. And just as I began to ease down on the accelerator the sky darkened slightly, and I looked up to see the hundreds of white crows circling the sky wildly, wings flapping crazily.
Suddenly two cops on motorbikes were behind me, signalling me to stop. I swung the huge car to the curb, and killed the engine.
Just ahead of me the gay guy stopped the car just as I thought he was about to ram it into the police sedans blocking the street.
Four cops were out with their guns drawn and they were commanding the naked man to come out of the car with his hands in the air.
I got out of my car, ignoring the cop who was covering me with a gun. I looked at the crows again. These were no ordinary birds, I knew.
They were lean and hungry, and the strangest thing about them was that they made no sound as they circled overhead, round and round and round, their pattern an uncanny perfect circle in the sky, maintaining the same distances between one bird and the next.
The door of the BMW opened, and the naked man emerged. He ignored the cops and jumped first on the hood of the car, and then onto the roof, where he stood, arms akimbo, strutting defiantly.
The watching crowd began to babble excitedly.
The cops were shouting at him, commanding him to get down, but he paid no heed. He kept turning and twisting until his eyes met mine, and then he stopped.
He glared at me – no, the Legion glared – and its fiery eyes still burned like fire, the yellow flames seeming to leap hungrily now. The mark blazed on its forehead: 666!
Not that the cops or the onlookers saw all these. They simply saw a crazed naked man dancing on the roof of a sports car.
The demons looked at me with utter contempt, and the muscles of my stomach began to bunch up painfully.
I knew it.
There was going to be death!
And when it came it came fast, with terrifying consequences.
One minute the crows were circling, and then suddenly they swooped, going for the naked man. Their wings still flapped, but apart from that they made no sound.
I saw the leader of the pack, the huge dirty crow that had dogged my tail ever since I went to see Pastor Geoffrey Sam of Fairview. It came in like a jet bomber, its speed and accuracy uncanny.
Its claws struck the naked man in the face, holding fast, and then its beak darted forward, sinking into the man’s right eye.
The naked man screamed and brought up his hands to his face, but the crow fired itself outward, dragging something behind it.
I watched helplessly with a hollow ache in the pit of my stomach that it was the man’s eye. The gay man was screaming, clutching at his face as blood oozed between his fingers!
And still the crows came, hundreds of them, landing on the man, clutching him hard and honing in with their beaks, tearing off a piece of flesh each time.
The cops stumbled backward, their faces utterly shocked at the spectacle unfolding in front of them. For a brief moment the man was lost to view completely, only his screams indicating that he was still alive within that fury of white crows.
They moved in with hatred, violently tearing at his flesh.
The screams grew frenzied.
One cop, perhaps feeling he needed to help, stepped forward boldly, but suddenly four crows swooped on him, striking violently at his face, and when he stepped back they immediately let him go.
And within that frenzy, within that madness, I saw them!
Odd, ugly and totally gross demons leaving the body of the gay man and occupying the crows, one at a time, and each time one came out, revelling in its ugliness, it would stare at me … coldly, defiantly, victoriously!
They went on eating the man.
They would hit his body thuccckk, and then their beaks would smash home phoockk, and then they would pull away, ripping off a bit of body part, thraaahh…
Thucckk, phoockk, thraaah … craziness, madness!
And then, as if by some secret command they all flapped their way back into the air, circled once, and then they flew away.
The gay man’s body was lying on the roof of the car, completely covered with blood.
His stomach had virtually been cut open by the sharp beaks, and his intestines, those not eaten by the crows, spilled outward.
The flesh on his face was almost completely gone, eaten by the crows, and leaving a grinning skull-like thing that was making deep gurgling sounds from a throat that was no longer there but eaten through.
His genitals had virtually been eaten away. His body was jerking now, spasmodically, pathetically.
Two cops were turning away, vomiting violently.
The stunned onlookers were moving in now, some of them looking tentatively into the sky, still unable to believe what had just happened.
More police cars were converging on the scene, sirens wailing and lights flashing. Noise, in various forms, was everywhere; confused, freaked out.
The two cops had forgotten about me, and I collapsed against the side of the car, holding it with both hands and bending my head, hoping the dizziness would go away.
Cool fingers touched my face and gripped my shoulder. I looked up dazedly.
Jo was standing beside me, her face a mirror of concern.
Come, Yaw, let’s get out of here.
I looked at her, numb all over.
I can’t. I can’t take this anymore. I can’t face this thing. It is over, okay, it is over. Shit, how many more innocent people would have to die, each death worse than the last? I’m not equipped to deal with this. No, no. I give up. You guys can lock me up, send me to jail, whatever. Shit, I don’t give a fuck!
I knew I sounded incoherent and scared, but I could not help it.
Whatever it was, it was done. I accepted the defeat.
It was over.
This was where I stopped dabbling in the whole spooky spiritual mess. I didn’t care what God did with His gifts anymore. I was finished, and I was out.
I had lost my father, yes, and for eternity I would go on grieving for him, but there wasn’t going to be any revenge. I was no Unblind, and I wasn’t going to kill myself trying.
This was it.
It was finished.
Come, Yaw Boat.
She gently helped me into the back seat of my car.
The two cops approached now, faces grim, brandishing their guns.
She showed her BNI badge ID and spoke to them.
They nodded and turned away.
She got in and started the car, reversing and turning smoothly.
I leaned against the seat and trembled.
Enough was certainly enough.
I had pursued the Legion relentlessly and to the best of abilities I thought I possessed. I had given it a shot, and there had been a time when I had even felt I was winning.
Those days were over.
I was done as an Unblind.
I didn’t care about what Bonner said, or even that I had sworn vengeance on the Legion for my old man’s demise. It all didn’t matter now. I had come to the end of the road, and the Legion could go hang for all I cared.
I had gone off ill-prepared and ill-equipped against a host of raw evil that had survived two thousand years. My urge to prove myself had brought untold grief and death to so many.
I had messed up big time, and my naivety had resulted in so many people losing their lives. I had no doubts whatsoever that the more I pursued the Legion the more terrible deaths would litter the streets of Portville and beyond.
As for my trouble with the BNI and the police I intended to put in a call to Leo Brand, the attorney I had inherited from my father, and let him take it up.
In the morning I would go to the hospital and see Paul Anderson for the last time, and then I would go to the mission house to get my things.
Anderson was greatly wounded, Bonner was gone, and Nicole was in the arms of a man who loved and cherished her. My efforts to tame the Legion had brought in its wake complications, and I had no stomach for more.
I was going to leave Portville.
I was done.
These thoughts ran through my mind lazily as Jo stopped the car.
It seemed my brain had stopped functioning and could only dwell on how my days as an Unblind were over and how I was giving up, and it kept playing it over and over again.
I was dimly aware that Nicole was now leading me into a plush hotel, holding unto my arm as we stopped at the reception. I was aware that the hotel was a very beautiful and expensive one – and that she was taking a key from the prim and proper front desk attendant.
I was also dimly aware that we had entered an elevator, and after a long time it stopped and we got out. I hadn’t been paying much attention but I was convinced we were on or close to the highest floor.
We walked along a red-carpeted corridor and stopped in front of one of the doors at the farthest end of the corridor. I leaned weakly against the wall as she fumbled out a key and opened it.
It was a luxurious suite, and might have cost a fortune. It was large and expensively-furnished, giving it an unreal aura.
My messed-up brain stopped its recycling of my finished spiritual battle long enough to wonder lazily if all BNI agents could afford such hotel suites, or whether she was running on a special kind of budget.
But then it went back to the fiasco of my life as an Unblind and I let it drift.
Make yourself comfortable whilst I change, Yaw. There’s a bar on your right, yes, right by the door leading to the corridor, and if you feel for a drink kindly fix yourself one, okay? I wouldn’t be more than a few minutes.
She walked towards the suite bedroom and disappeared inside.
I grunted a reply and went to the balcony.
I didn’t fix any drink. I just leaned across the railing and looked down. It was a mighty big fall from the height I was and I shuddered with fear. I had always been a little afraid of heights, and I experienced a moment of real dizziness that made me hold unto the railing tighter.
Far below me I saw what looked like a huge swimming pool; it was a splendid piece of architecture, constructed in the form of an ‘S’, and beautifully lighted so that from where I was standing it looked like something from a fairy-tale book.
Some late revellers were in the pool area.
Some were swimming whilst some just took it easy on mats and reclining chairs as they sipped cool drinks from long straws.
They looked tiny from where I was standing, but somehow the sight warmed and fascinated me in a strange kind of way. I felt oddly hot, and suddenly it seemed to me that a cold swim in the pool would really do me a world of good.
This place would suit me just fine, I thought.
She called my name softly, and when I turned she was standing just inside the room, just beyond the doorway to the balcony, looking silently at me with her head cocked slightly to the right…and for a terrible second I had a wild sense of déjà vu again because Elaine had had a gait just like that.
And she was totally naked.
I devoured her with my eyes.
Hers was a figure I had certainly seen before! Beautiful face, full luscious lips, slender neck, gentle shoulders, full firm breasts delightfully turned upward.
Her hips were slender, her flat stomach leading down to the juncture of her thighs, her pubic hair trimmed low.
She was a goddess, an ethereal angel whose destiny was linked to mine somehow.
I stared at her, my breathing coming hard, my eyes roving her face with mounting incomprehension because, despite the different hair and the slightly aged face, despite the coldness and the artificial sweetness she was trying hard to exude, she was Elaine.
The woman destined to rule the evil world with me as my queen!
Dear Lord, what is happening now?
Come to me, my darling!
My brain fought against it, but already I was lost.
It seemed as if strong cobwebs had suddenly been thrown over me, drugging me, weakening me.
I closed the gap between us in a flash, spurred on by a heat so alien and strong that I had no chance against it after my long period of induced abstention from sex.
I reached for her hungrily, crushing her against my chest, my lips crushing hers in a deep devouring kiss. She strained against me, pulling my clothes away frantically.
My hands rove over her, mauling that delightful body.
This was the Yaw Boat I knew, the decadent soul, the fornicating little commander!
She was moaning now as her hands rubbed me feverishly. She had somehow gotten her hand down the front of my boxers and taken possession of that raging part of me, expertly fondling and dragging me toward peak desire.
It was a moment of wanton lust.
Harsh, bestial, untamed…
We kissed and strained against each other, caught up by a desire so strong and so sinful that I pushed her to the floor. I fell on her, my rigid organ hot against her stomach.
She reached down, grabbed my turgid member and brought it the entrance of her jade heaven.
She was ready, and I lunged brutally into her and began to pound her hard. The passion rose, catching us and refusing to be reasoned with. She groaned and moaned against me, raising her hips off the floor to meet my thrusts!
She moved against me, flowed through me, and when I closed my eyes I was suddenly thrown back to that night it had all started, that night I had made love to a woman –Elaine – in the dark and had not known it was her!
It felt just like that now, for a moment!
It was Elaine all over again!
I opened my eyes with a little cry of horror, slowing down my thrusts as I looked down at her, and in the depths of her face I saw those eyes, and I knew they were the eyes of Elaine!
There was no doubt about it!
Shocked, suddenly scared, I almost withdrew from her, but she drew my head down and clamped those sweet lips on mine.
She turned me on my back, reared up, and then she slipped down sweetly on my length.
She threw her head back and gripped my chest as she started a most fabulous ride that took my breath away and booted my fears out of my chest!
We groaned together and sought together. It was the most intense love-making I had ever had the sinful pleasure of having. It wasn’t love, but simply a bestial expression of a terrible statement.
She was a violent twisting mass around me, goading, loving, manipulating.
She was a spirit, giving me pleasure as I had never known before. She was on me, under me, in me … a sinuous angel from the devil, writing a song that baffled the mind, a poem that humans failed to comprehend.
I was the putty in her hands, and although my whole soul cried out, I was past the land of the clean. I had welcomed the sordid life I had been living.
We continued like that for a lengthy time span!
We were all over the room – on the floor, on the sofas, on the tables, against the walls, on the bed.
She was insatiable, and when I screamed and collapsed, bringing things to a blissful end, she would always be there, teasing, touching, sucking, and bringing me back to life … and to lust.
Until finally I could not take it anymore.
We both screamed and clutched each other painfully and violently as the earth shook for both of us.
And then I slumbered.
Like a stupid little log.
Soul decadent … decadent soul!